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- Рэй Брэдбери
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- Стр. 167/264
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They
turned
a
corner
.
Deep
in
winter
they
had
looked
for
bits
and
pieces
of
summer
and
found
it
in
furnace
cellars
or
in
bonfires
on
the
edge
of
frozen
skating
ponds
at
night
.
Now
,
in
summer
,
they
went
searching
for
some
little
bit
,
some
piece
of
the
forgotten
winter
.
Rounding
the
corner
,
they
felt
a
continual
light
rain
spray
down
from
a
vast
brick
building
to
refresh
them
as
they
read
the
sign
they
knew
by
heart
,
the
sign
which
showed
them
what
they
’
d
come
searching
for
:
SUMMER
’
s
ICE
HOUSE
.
Summer
’
s
Ice
House
on
a
summer
day
!
They
said
the
words
,
laughing
,
and
moved
to
peer
into
that
tremendous
cavern
where
in
fifty
,
one
-
hundred
,
and
two
-
hundred
-
pound
chunks
,
the
glaciers
,
the
icebergs
,
the
fallen
but
not
forgotten
snows
of
January
slept
in
ammoniac
steams
and
crystal
drippings
.
"
Feel
that
,
"
sighed
Charlie
Woodman
.
"
What
more
could
you
ask
?
"
For
the
winter
breath
was
exhaled
again
and
again
about
them
as
they
stood
in
the
glary
day
,
smelling
the
wet
wood
platform
with
the
perpetual
mist
shimmering
in
rainbows
down
from
the
ice
machinery
above
.
They
chewed
icicles
that
froze
their
fingers
so
they
had
to
grip
the
ice
in
handkerchiefs
and
suck
the
linen
.
"
All
that
steam
,
all
that
fog
,
"
whispered
Tom
.
"
The
Snow
Queen
.
Remember
that
story
?
Nobody
believes
in
that
stuff
,
Snow
Queens
,
now
.
So
don
’
t
be
surprised
if
this
is
where
she
came
to
hide
out
because
nobody
believes
in
her
anymore
.
"
They
looked
and
saw
the
vapors
rise
and
drift
in
long
swathes
of
cool
smoke
.
