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- Чарльз Буковски
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- Стр. 196/501
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"
All
right
.
"
Joanna
had
some
paints
and
brushes
and
paper
spread
on
the
table
.
Then
I
remembered
she
was
an
art
collector
.
And
that
she
had
bought
some
of
my
paintings
.
We
had
been
drinking
Heine
-
kens
most
of
the
evening
,
but
were
still
sober
.
"
This
is
very
powerful
stuff
.
"
"
What
does
it
do
?
"
"
It
gives
you
a
strange
kind
of
high
.
You
might
get
sick
.
When
you
vomit
you
get
higher
but
I
prefer
not
to
vomit
so
we
take
a
little
baking
soda
along
with
it
.
I
guess
the
main
thing
about
mescaline
is
that
it
makes
you
feel
terror
.
"
"
I
’
ve
felt
that
without
any
help
at
all
.
"
I
began
painting
.
Joanna
turned
the
stereo
on
.
It
was
very
strange
music
,
but
I
liked
it
.
I
looked
around
and
Joanna
was
gone
.
I
didn
’
t
care
.
I
painted
a
man
who
had
just
committed
suicide
,
he
had
hung
himself
from
the
rafters
with
a
rope
.
I
used
many
yellows
,
the
dead
man
was
so
bright
and
pretty
.
Then
something
said
,
"
Hank
.
.
.
"
It
was
right
behind
me
.
I
leaped
out
of
my
chair
,
"
JESUS
CHRIST
!
OH
,
JESUS
SHIT
CHRIST
!
"
Tiny
icy
bubbles
ran
from
my
wrists
to
my
shoulders
and
down
my
back
.
I
shivered
and
trembled
.
I
looked
around
.
Joanna
was
standing
there
.
"
Never
do
that
to
me
again
,
"
I
told
her
.
"
Never
sneak
up
on
me
like
that
or
I
’
ll
kill
you
!
"
