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- Чарльз Буковски
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- Стр. 87/501
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"
I
.
.
.
don
’
t
.
.
.
care
.
.
.
you
’
re
going
back
to
her
.
.
.
I
don
’
t
.
.
.
care
.
.
.
"
I
ran
into
the
kitchen
and
got
the
dishpan
,
came
back
and
placed
it
on
the
floor
by
the
bed
.
Then
I
pulled
Dee
Dee
’
s
head
and
shoulders
over
the
edge
and
stuck
my
fingers
down
her
throat
.
She
vomited
.
I
lifted
her
up
and
let
her
breathe
a
moment
,
then
repeated
the
process
.
I
did
it
again
and
again
.
Dee
Dee
kept
vomiting
.
Once
,
as
I
lifted
her
up
,
her
teeth
popped
out
.
They
lay
there
on
the
sheet
,
uppers
and
lowers
.
"
Oooh
.
.
.
my
teeth
,
"
she
said
.
Or
tried
to
say
.
"
Don
’
t
worry
about
your
teeth
.
"
I
stuck
my
fingers
down
her
throat
again
.
Then
I
pulled
her
back
.
"
I
don
’
,
"
she
said
,
"
wans
ya
to
seee
my
teethhhs
.
.
.
"
"
They
’
re
all
right
,
Dee
Dee
.
They
’
re
really
not
bad
.
"
"
Ooooh
.
.
.
"
She
revived
long
enough
to
put
her
teeth
back
in
.
"
Take
me
home
,
"
she
said
,
"
I
want
to
go
home
.
"
"
I
’
ll
stay
with
you
.
I
won
’
t
leave
you
alone
tonight
.
"
"
But
you
will
leave
me
,
finally
?
"
"
Let
’
s
get
dressed
,
"
I
said
.
