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"
You
--
"
"
Caa
,
"
the
young
man
said
,
and
now
Louis
fancied
he
could
smell
death
on
his
breath
,
internal
injuries
,
lost
rhythm
,
failure
,
ruin
.
"
What
?
"
A
crazy
urge
came
to
shake
him
.
"
Gaaaaaaaa
--
"
The
young
man
in
the
red
gym
shorts
began
to
shudder
all
over
.
Suddenly
he
seemed
to
freeze
with
every
muscle
locked
His
eyes
lost
their
vacant
expression
momentarily
and
seemed
to
find
Louis
's
eyes
.
Then
everything
let
go
at
once
.
There
was
a
bad
stink
.
Louis
thought
he
would
,
must
speak
again
.
Then
the
eyes
resumed
their
vacant
expression
...
and
began
to
glaze
.
The
man
was
dead
.
Louis
sat
back
,
vaguely
aware
that
all
his
clothes
were
sticking
to
him
;
he
was
drenched
with
sweat
.
Darkness
bloomed
,
spreading
a
wing
softly
over
his
eyes
,
and
the
world
began
to
swing
sickeningly
sideways
.
Recognizing
what
was
happening
,
he
half-turned
from
the
dead
man
,
thrust
his
head
down
between
his
knees
,
and
pressed
the
nails
of
his
left
thumb
and
left
forefinger
into
his
gums
hard
enough
to
bring
blood
.
After
a
moment
the
world
began
to
clear
again
.
Then
the
room
filled
up
with
people
,
as
if
they
were
all
only
actors
,
waiting
for
their
cue
.
This
added
to
Louis
's
feeling
of
unreality
and
disorientation
--
the
strength
of
these
feelings
,
which
he
had
studied
in
psychology
classes
but
never
actually
experienced
,
frightened
him
badly
.
It
was
,
he
supposed
,
the
way
a
person
would
feel
shortly
after
someone
had
slipped
a
powerful
dose
of
LSD
into
his
drink
.
Like
a
play
staged
only
for
my
benefit
,
he
thought
.
The
room
is
first
conveniently
cleared
so
the
dying
Sibyl
can
speak
a
few
lines
of
oblique
prophecy
to
me
and
me
alone
,
and
as
soon
as
he
's
dead
,
everyone
comes
back
.
