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- Нил Гейман
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- Американские боги
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- Стр. 137/641
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Shadow
inserted
his
coin
.
The
drunk
in
the
graveyard
raised
his
bottle
to
his
lips
.
One
of
the
gravestones
flipped
over
,
revealing
a
grasping
corpse
;
a
headstone
turned
around
,
flowers
replaced
by
a
grinning
skull
.
A
wraith
appeared
on
the
right
of
the
church
,
while
on
the
left
of
the
church
something
with
a
half
-
glimpsed
pointed
,
unsettlingly
bird
-
like
face
,
a
pale
,
Boschian
nightmare
,
glided
smoothly
from
a
headstone
into
the
shadows
and
was
gone
.
Then
the
church
door
opened
,
a
priest
came
out
,
and
the
ghosts
,
haunts
,
and
corpses
vanished
,
and
only
the
priest
and
the
drunk
were
left
alone
in
the
graveyard
.
The
priest
looked
down
at
the
drunk
disdainfully
,
and
backed
through
the
open
door
,
which
closed
behind
him
,
leaving
the
drunk
on
his
own
.
The
clockwork
story
was
deeply
unsettling
.
Much
more
unsettling
,
thought
Shadow
,
than
clockwork
has
any
right
to
be
.
"
You
know
why
I
show
that
to
you
?
"
asked
Czernobog
.
"
No
.
"
"
That
is
the
world
as
it
is
.
That
is
the
real
world
.
It
is
there
,
in
that
box
.
"
They
wandered
through
a
blood
-
colored
room
filled
with
old
theatrical
organs
,
huge
organ
pipes
,
and
what
appeared
to
be
enormous
copper
brewing
vats
,
liberated
from
a
brewery
.
"
Where
are
we
going
?
"
asked
Shadow
.
"
The
carousel
,
"
said
Czernobog
.
"
But
we
’
ve
passed
signs
to
the
carousel
a
dozen
times
already
.
"
"
He
goes
his
way
.
We
travel
a
spiral
.
The
quickest
way
is
sometimes
the
longest
.
"
