Читаем Night Train полностью

It’s a pattern. It’s all classic, Colonel Tom. It’s a dunker, man. It’s a piece of shit.

I’m coming over.

I won’t be here. Listen, I’m fine. I’m good—really. Wait...That’s better. I’m just upset with all this. But now it’s made. And you just have to let it be, Colonel Tom. I’m sorry, sir. I’m so sorry.

Mike...

It’s down.

-+=*=+-

There—finished. All gone. Now me I’m heading off to Battery and its long string of dives. I want to call Trader Faulkner and say goodbye but the phone’s ring­ing again and the night train’s coming and I can hear that dickless sack of shit bending the stairs out of joint and let him see what happens if he tries to stand in my way or just gives me that look or opens his mouth and says so much as one single word.