-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Стивен Кинг
-
- Сияние
-
- Стр. 276/529
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
No
,
you
never
did
,
"
he
told
Lloyd
.
"
Few
men
ever
return
from
the
fabled
Wagon
,
but
those
who
do
come
with
a
fearful
tale
to
tell
.
When
you
jump
on
,
it
seems
like
the
brightest
,
cleanest
Wagon
you
ever
saw
,
with
ten
-
foot
wheels
to
keep
the
bed
of
it
high
out
of
the
gutter
where
all
the
drunks
are
laying
around
with
their
brown
bags
and
their
Thunderbird
and
their
Granddad
Flash
’
s
Popskull
Bourbon
.
You
’
re
away
from
all
the
people
who
throw
you
nasty
looks
and
tell
you
to
clean
up
your
act
or
go
put
it
on
in
another
town
.
From
the
gutter
,
that
’
s
the
finest
-
lookin
Wagon
you
ever
saw
,
Lloyd
my
boy
.
All
hung
with
bunting
and
a
brass
band
in
front
and
three
majorettes
to
each
side
,
twirling
their
batons
and
flashing
their
panties
at
you
.
Man
,
you
got
to
get
on
that
Wagon
and
away
from
the
juicers
that
are
straining
canned
heat
and
smelling
their
own
puke
to
get
high
again
and
poking
along
the
gutter
for
butts
with
half
an
inch
left
below
the
filter
.
"
He
drained
two
more
imaginary
drinks
and
tossed
the
glasses
back
over
his
shoulder
.
He
could
almost
hear
them
smashing
on
the
floor
.
And
goddam
if
he
wasn
’
t
starting
to
feel
high
.
It
was
the
Excedrin
.
"
So
you
climb
up
,
"
he
told
Lloyd
.
"
and
ain
’
t
you
glad
to
be
there
.
My
God
yes
,
that
’
s
affirmative
.
That
Wagon
is
the
biggest
and
best
float
in
the
whole
parade
,
and
everybody
is
lining
the
streets
and
clapping
and
cheering
and
waving
,
all
for
you
.
Except
for
the
winos
passed
out
in
the
gutter
.
Those
guys
used
to
be
your
friends
,
but
that
’
s
all
behind
you
now
.
"
He
carried
his
empty
fist
to
his
mouth
and
sluiced
down
another
-
four
down
,
sixteen
to
go
.
Making
excellent
progress
.
He
swayed
a
little
on
the
stool
.
Let
em
stare
,
if
that
was
how
they
got
off
.
Take
a
picture
,
folks
,
it
’
ll
last
longer
.
"
Then
you
start
to
see
things
,
Lloydy
-
my
-
boy
.
Things
you
missed
from
the
gutter
.
Like
how
the
floor
of
the
Wagon
is
nothing
but
straight
pine
boards
,
so
fresh
they
’
re
still
bleeding
sap
,
and
if
you
took
your
shoes
off
you
’
d
be
sure
to
get
a
splinter
.
Like
how
the
only
furniture
in
the
Wagon
is
these
long
benches
with
high
backs
and
no
cushions
to
sit
on
,
and
in
fact
they
are
nothing
but
pews
with
a
songbook
every
five
feet
or
so
.
Like
how
all
the
people
sitting
in
the
pews
on
the
Wagon
are
these
flatchested
el
birdos
in
long
dresses
with
a
little
lace
around
the
collar
and
their
hair
pulled
back
into
buns
until
it
’
s
so
tight
you
can
almost
hear
it
screaming
.
And
every
face
is
fiat
and
pale
and
shiny
,
and
they
’
re
all
singing
'
Shall
we
gather
at
the
riiiiver
,
the
beautiful
,
the
beautiful
,
the
riiiiiver
,
’
and
up
front
there
’
s
this
reekin
bitch
with
blond
hair
playing
the
organ
and
tellin
em
to
sing
louder
,
sing
louder
.
And
somebody
slams
a
songbook
into
your
hands
and
says
,
'
Sing
it
out
,
brother
.
If
you
expect
to
stay
on
this
Wagon
,
you
got
to
sing
morning
,
noon
,
and
night
.
Especially
at
night
.
’
And
that
’
s
when
you
realize
what
the
Wagon
really
is
,
Lloyd
.
It
’
s
a
church
with
bars
on
the
windows
,
a
church
for
women
and
a
prison
for
you
.
"
He
stopped
.
Lloyd
was
gone
.
Worse
still
,
he
had
never
been
there
.
The
drinks
had
never
been
there
.
Only
the
people
in
the
booths
,
the
people
from
the
costume
party
,
and
he
could
almost
hear
their
muffled
laughter
as
they
held
their
bands
to
their
mouths
and
pointed
,
their
eyes
sparkling
with
cruel
pinpoints
of
light
.
He
whirled
around
again
.
"
Leave
me
-
"
(
alone
?
)
