-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Рэй Брэдбери
-
- Вино из одуванчиков
-
- Стр. 117/264
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Stop
!
He
jerked
his
hand
to
his
chest
.
Stop
running
!
I
don
’
t
like
that
sound
!
And
then
he
felt
himself
walking
across
the
lawns
among
all
the
other
statues
now
,
and
whether
they
,
too
,
were
coming
to
life
he
did
not
know
.
They
did
not
seem
to
be
moving
at
all
.
For
that
matter
he
himself
was
only
moving
from
the
knees
down
.
The
rest
of
him
was
cold
stone
,
and
very
heavy
.
Going
up
the
front
porch
of
his
house
,
he
turned
suddenly
to
look
at
the
lawns
behind
him
.
The
lawns
were
empty
.
A
series
of
rifle
shots
.
Screen
doors
banged
one
after
the
.
other
,
a
sunset
volley
,
along
the
street
.
Statues
are
best
,
he
thought
.
They
’
re
the
only
things
you
can
keep
on
your
lawn
.
Don
’
t
ever
let
them
move
.
Once
you
do
,
you
can
’
t
do
a
thing
with
them
.
Suddenly
his
fist
shot
out
like
a
piston
from
his
side
and
it
shook
itself
hard
at
the
lawns
and
the
street
and
the
gathering
dusk
.
His
face
was
choked
with
blood
,
his
eyes
were
blazing
.
"
John
!
"
he
cried
.
"
You
,
John
!
John
,
you
’
re
my
enemy
,
you
hear
?
You
’
re
no
friend
of
mine
!
Don
’
t
come
back
now
,
ever
!
Get
away
,
you
!
Enemy
,
you
hear
?
That
’
s
what
you
are
!
It
’
s
all
off
between
us
,
you
’
re
dirt
,
that
’
s
all
,
dirt
!
John
,
you
hear
me
,
John
!
"
As
if
a
wick
had
been
turned
a
little
lower
in
a
great
clear
lamp
beyond
the
town
,
the
sky
darkened
still
more
.
He
stood
on
the
porch
,
his
mouth
gasping
and
working
.
His
fist
still
thrust
straight
out
at
that
house
across
the
street
and
down
the
way
.
He
looked
at
the
fist
and
it
dissolved
,
the
world
dissolved
beyond
it
.
Going
upstairs
,
in
the
dark
,
where
he
could
only
feel
his
face
but
see
nothing
of
himself
,
not
even
his
fists
,
he
told
himself
over
and
over
,
I
’
m
mad
,
I
’
m
angry
,
I
hate
him
,
I
’
m
mad
,
I
’
m
angry
,
I
hate
him
!
Ten
minutes
later
,
slowly
he
reached
the
top
of
the
stairs
,
in
the
dark
.
.
.
