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Название книги: The Blue Afternoon
Автор(ы): William Boyd
Жанр: Современная проза
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/The-Blue-Afternoon-198403.html
PROLOGUE
I remember that afternoon, not long into our travels, sitting on deck in the mild mid-Atlantic sun on a slightly smirched and foggy day, the sky a pale washed-out blue above the smokestacks, when I asked my father what it felt like to pick up a knife and make an incision into living human flesh. He thought seriously for a while before replying.'It depends on where you cut,' he said. 'Sometimes it's like a knife through clay or modelling wax. Some days it's like cutting into a cold blancmange or… or cold raw chicken.'He pondered a while longer and then reached inside his coat pocket and drew out a scalpel. He removed the small leather sleeve that protected the blade and offered the slim knife to me.'Take this. See for yourself.'I took the scalpel from him, small as a pen but much heavier than I had imagined. He looked down at the remains of our lunch on the table: an edge of cheese with a thick yellow rind, a bowl of fruit, four apples and a green melon, some bread rolls.'Close your eyes,
Название книги: The Blue Afternoon
Автор(ы): William Boyd
Жанр: Современная проза
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/The-Blue-Afternoon-198403.html
PROLOGUE
I remember that afternoon, not long into our travels, sitting on deck in the mild mid-Atlantic sun on a slightly smirched and foggy day, the sky a pale washed-out blue above the smokestacks, when I asked my father what it felt like to pick up a knife and make an incision into living human flesh. He thought seriously for a while before replying.'It depends on where you cut,' he said. 'Sometimes it's like a knife through clay or modelling wax. Some days it's like cutting into a cold blancmange or… or cold raw chicken.'He pondered a while longer and then reached inside his coat pocket and drew out a scalpel. He removed the small leather sleeve that protected the blade and offered the slim knife to me.'Take this. See for yourself.'I took the scalpel from him, small as a pen but much heavier than I had imagined. He looked down at the remains of our lunch on the table: an edge of cheese with a thick yellow rind, a bowl of fruit, four apples and a green melon, some bread rolls.'Close your eyes,
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