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- Джон Уиндем
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- День триффидов
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I
tried
to
shut
out
the
sounds
by
thinking
of
all
the
things
I
must
do
the
next
day
,
and
the
day
after
,
and
the
days
after
that
;
by
guessing
what
the
beam
of
light
might
mean
,
and
how
it
might
affect
us
.
But
the
sobbing
in
the
background
went
on
and
on
and
on
,
reminding
me
of
the
things
I
had
seen
that
day
,
and
would
see
tomorrow
.
.
.
The
opening
of
the
door
brought
me
sitting
up
in
sudden
alarm
.
It
was
Josella
,
carrying
a
lighted
candle
.
Her
eyes
were
wide
and
dark
,
and
she
bad
been
crying
.
"
I
can
’
t
sleep
,
"
she
said
.
"
I
’
m
frightened
—
horribly
frightened
.
Can
you
hear
them
—
all
those
poor
people
?
I
can
’
t
stand
it
She
came
like
a
child
to
be
comforted
.
I
’
m
not
sure
that
her
need
of
it
was
much
greater
than
mine
.
She
fell
asleep
before
I
did
,
arid
with
her
head
resting
on
my
shoulder
.
Still
the
memories
of
the
day
would
not
leave
inc
in
peace
But
,
in
the
end
,
one
does
sleep
.
My
last
recollection
was
of
remembering
the
sweet
,
sad
voice
of
the
girl
who
had
sung
:
So
we
’
ll
go
no
more
a
-
roving
When
I
awoke
I
could
bear
Josella
already
moving
around
in
the
kitchen
.
My
watch
said
nearly
seven
o
’
clock
.
By
the
time
I
had
shaved
uncomfortably
in
cold
water
and
dressed
myself
,
there
was
a
smell
of
toast
and
coffee
drifting
through
the
apartment
.
I
found
her
holding
a
pan
over
the
oil
stove
.
She
had
an
air
of
self
-
possession
which
was
hard
to
associate
with
the
frightened
figure
of
the
night
before
.
Her
manner
was
practical
too
.
"
Canned
milk
,
I
’
m
afraid
.
The
fridge
stopped
.
Everything
else
is
all
right
,
though
,
"
she
said
.
