Читать книгу Kin - Dror Burstein - Страница 11

THE CITY

After many years to come, and even more hours and minutes, the city will be a smooth surface of ice. On top of the bowling alleys, on top of the basketball stadium and all its victories and defeats, on top of the highest mall in the Middle East, on top of the sea. The ice will cover everything. And nobody skates on it, and nobody throws a snowball at the snowmen. And nobody crosses the Bosporus on foot anymore, and nobody falls asleep wrapped in thick furs anymore in a sleigh on the way from Sicily to Italy. There’s nothing except for the wind and the silence. A bird frozen in mid-flight that crashed onto the plain and shattered. And wind and silence and frost. And schools of fish frozen underfoot, feet that aren’t there, that don’t walk anymore. That are frozen down below. Sitting on chairs. Frozen, stopped. And they don’t swim, don’t spawn, in the cold.