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- Рэй Брэдбери
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- Марсианские хроники
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- Стр. 232/287
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He
entered
the
Elite
Theater
to
show
himself
a
film
,
to
distract
his
mind
from
his
isolation
.
The
theater
was
hollow
,
empty
,
like
a
tomb
with
phantoms
crawling
gray
and
black
on
the
vast
screen
.
Shivering
,
he
hurried
from
the
haunted
place
.
Having
decided
to
return
home
,
he
was
striking
down
the
middle
of
a
side
street
,
almost
running
,
when
he
heard
the
phone
.
He
listened
.
"
Phone
ringing
in
someone
’
s
house
.
"
He
proceeded
briskly
.
"
Someone
should
answer
that
phone
,
"
he
mused
.
He
sat
on
a
curb
to
pick
a
rock
from
his
shoe
,
idly
.
"
Someone
!
"
he
screamed
,
leaping
.
"
Me
!
Good
lord
,
what
’
s
wrong
with
me
!
"
he
shrieked
.
He
whirled
.
Which
house
?
That
one
!
He
raced
over
the
lawn
,
up
the
steps
,
into
the
house
,
down
a
dark
hall
.
