Space: one hundred one story of surrealism. Рим Дик

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ librarian clapped his hand, and the wizard flew into the book. It was like being sucked in by a vacuum cleaner. The Snow Queen promised to kill the librarian if he did not help him, but the caretaker took out a magic wand from his bosom, which he received from a book, and waved it back into place, turning it into a bag of gelatin or a Barbie doll. Here, from time to time, animals appeared that ran along the shelves, the authors fell, opened up and the flood began, a megalodon swam out, a dragon flew out, dead samurai raged. On the one hand, a vampire, on the other, a storekeeper of memories. The caretaker at such moments had his own abilities, except for magic. Rewind button. He rewinds time grabbed the beasts and stormed out the door before they could scatter the books and cause mayhem. A hand clap would not have removed the chaos, therefore, there was nothing more wonderful than rewinding time in the magical library. The dead could be resurrected, and those who lost body parts could grow limbs. Of course, the library keeper could call the best doctor from the book, open the door to the future in order to grow legs or kidneys, remove devices from the room in the book, which would allow not to get injured. But it was not worth the risk, because the characters could kill them, seize a library, a city, a country, experiment on living people. There is always a risk, still, who would want to live all their lives in a world where everything is worse than anywhere else. Hell. there was nothing more wonderful than the rewinding of time in the magical library. The dead could be resurrected, and those who lost body parts could grow limbs. Of course, the library keeper could call the best doctor from the book, open the door to the future in order to grow legs or kidneys, remove devices from the room in the book, which would allow not to get injured. But it was not worth the risk, because the characters could kill them, seize a library, a city, a country, experiment on living people. There is always a risk, still, who would want to live all their lives in a world where everything is worse than anywhere else. Hell. there was nothing more wonderful than the rewinding of time in the magical library. The dead could be resurrected, and those who lost body parts could grow limbs. Of course, the library keeper could call the best doctor from the book, open the door to the future in order to grow legs or kidneys, remove devices from the room in the book, which would allow not to get injured. But it was not worth the risk, because the characters could kill them, seize a library, a city, a country, experiment on living people. There is always a risk, still, who would want to live all their lives in a world where everything is worse than anywhere else. Hell. remove devices from the room in the book, which would allow not to get injured. But it was not worth the risk, because the characters could kill them, seize a library, a city, a country, experiment on living people. There is always a risk, still, who would want to live all their lives in a world where everything is worse than anywhere else. Hell. remove devices from the room in the book, which would allow not to get injured. But it was not worth the risk, because the characters could kill them, seize a library, a city, a country, experiment on living people. There is always a risk, still, who would want to live all their lives in a world where everything is worse than anywhere else. Hell.

      But what are we about the library and the library, right? Let’s fast forward to the world of science, where a spoonful of gunpowder turned a person into someone who, in no other way, could be, the person himself wanted to turn into. The powder contained the genes of animals, and after tasting only a spoon, people turned into animals or gained their strength. Marvelous. Charles Chaplin received here the grace of a cat, and Goethe the vigilance of the mind. Bulgakov found the strength of stubbornness in himself and saw other worlds at the bottom of a cup, Dickens was rewarded with the charm of a monkey and the mind of a raven. Goyle became a hippopotamus, Marie became an eagle, Anastasia became a fox. And meanwhile, well, you can imagine, I have a hand on cutting off the ladies, the animals that tried this miraculous powder became people. They were them, of course, only now, they never learned to be people. The tigers that became Homo sapiens walked on all fours. The dogs were barking. The cats hunched over and urinated into slippers and into the corners of rooms. Eagles jumped from rooftops. Giraffes were reaching for the leaves of the trees. An animal is always an animal. A person can be taught, he thinks, and an animal is a stupid creature, it imitates the life of the jungle, more precisely, it lives according to the laws of the forest, and gives preference only to instincts. But what a fantasy, just don’t put your finger on me, the bugs didn’t become anything at all, but received only the mind of a person, and every time your eyes fell on the floor, you could see cockroaches, stag beetles running around the chair, flies and fleas. They danced, they played billiards, they threw bread crumbs into baskets of cobwebs; push-ups and pull-ups on the horizontal bars. The ants that came running last fought the spiders in the fight. Bloch had the hardest time. Stronger and larger – intelligent insects, used them instead of a soccer ball, scoring goals into impromptu goals. Then they noticed big people, and began to swear, raise their fists and tremble nervously: just so as not to be crushed. Bite them on their big toes, tear their hair from the root. Whether they wanted places, who knows. But the fighters are still those. Scream. Hysterics. The squeaky sound reached anywhere but the ears of the giants. The primates grabbed them and crushed them, and if they were lucky, they ran away, and forever shook in fear under the plinth, between carpet, carpet and linoleum. It happened that a person would see that he was an anteater in a past life, and eat all the insects. And occasionally, but so it is, people heard the squeaks of cockroaches, and listened intently to them, seating them in their palms, as they told the story that they caught butterflies yesterday, and the day before yesterday they built a house under the washbasin. The man got angry, and poisoned their entire family under him. Then they noticed big people, and began to swear, raise their fists and tremble nervously: just so as not to be crushed. Bite them on their big toes, tear their hair from the root. Whether they wanted places, who knows. But the fighters are still those. Scream. Hysterics. The squeaky sound reached anywhere but the ears of the giants. The primates grabbed them and crushed them, and if they were lucky, they ran away, and forever shook in fear under the plinth, between carpet, carpet and linoleum. It happened that a person would see that he was an anteater in a past life, and eat all the insects. And occasionally, but so it is, people heard the squeaks of cockroaches, and listened intently to them, seating them in their palms, as they told the story that they caught butterflies yesterday, and the day before yesterday they built a house under the washbasin. The man got angry, and poisoned their entire family under him. Then they noticed big people, and began to swear, raise their fists and tremble nervously: just so as not to be crushed. Bite them on their big toes, tear their hair from the root. Whether they wanted places, who knows. But the fighters are still those. Scream. Hysterics. The squeaky sound reached anywhere but the ears of the giants. The primates grabbed them and crushed them, and if they were lucky, they ran away, and forever shook in fear under the plinth, between carpet, carpet and linoleum. It happened that a person would see that he was an anteater in a past life, and eat all the insects. And occasionally, but so it is, people heard the squeaks of cockroaches, and listened intently to them, seating them in their palms, as they told the story that they caught butterflies yesterday, and the day before yesterday they built a house under the washbasin. The man got angry, and poisoned their entire family under him. as long as it doesn’t get crushed. Bite them on their big toes, tear their hair from the root. Whether they wanted places, who knows. But the fighters are still those. Scream. Hysterics. The squeaky sound reached anywhere but the ears of the giants. The primates grabbed them and crushed them, and if they were lucky, they ran away, and forever shook in fear under the plinth, between carpet, carpet and linoleum. It happened that a person would see that he was an anteater in a past life, and eat all the insects. And occasionally, but so it is, people heard the squeaks of cockroaches, and listened intently to them, seating them in their palms, as they told the story that they caught butterflies yesterday, and the day before yesterday they built a house under the washbasin. The man got angry, and poisoned their entire family under him. as long as it doesn’t get crushed. Bite them on their big toes, tear their hair from the root. Whether they wanted places, who knows. But the fighters are still those. Scream. Hysterics. The squeaky sound reached anywhere but the ears of the giants. The primates grabbed them and crushed them, and if they were lucky, they ran away, and forever shook in fear under the plinth, between carpet, carpet and linoleum. It happened that a person would see that he СКАЧАТЬ