umnichka: переводы

→I snatched the flashlight and the banana off the corner of the sink. Every minute I spent here, Grace could be getting farther away.
I trotted down the stairs, two at a time, into the seething music.

→But it wasn't my hair or the color of my eyes that had caught
my attention. There was something in my expression that I didn't recognize, something at once helpless and failing; whoever this Sam was, I
didn't know him.

→I gingerly removed the Benadryl, and as I closed the cabinet, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair was longer than I'd ever let it
get before, my yellow eyes lighter than ever against the dark circles beneath them.

→Ointments and other people's toothpaste and pills for terms and conditions that no
longer applied and hairbrushes with hair not my color in the bristles and mouthwash that had probably expired two years before. I should clean
it out. I would get around to it.

→The cabinet was full of the vaguely distasteful evidence of
other people, as most shared bathroom cabinets were.

→Even up here, I could feel the bass vibrating under my feet. I shut the door behind me and allowed myself the small comfort of rinsing the
dried car-washing suds from my arms before I opened the mirror-fronted cabinet.

→The downstairs bathroom with its tub held too
many memories for me to get through. Luckily, Beck, sensitive to my past, kept another store of medicines in the upstairs bathroom where
there was no tub.

→The living room was empty — I'd turn the music off when I got back downstairs — and I jogged through it to get to the stairs. I knew there was
an assortment of medicines in the downstairs bathroom's cabinet, but I couldn't get to them.

→My hearing wasn't as sensitive as it was when I was a wolf, but it was still better than most people's. The music was like an assault,
something physical to push past.

→small enough to fit___________________________
in the palm of your hand, baby_________________
I never thought that you would save me_________
break a piece_______________________________
for your friends_____________________________
break a___________________________________ piece_____________________________________
just for luck________________________________
break a piece_______________________________
sell it sell it_________________________________
break me break me__________________________

→Cole's voice
exploded through the hall, louder and brasher than real life:
Break me into pieces

→This house had been so different when it had been filled with people.
The living room went silent for two seconds as the song ended and then the speakers busted out another NARKOTIKA song.

→It was that Cole,
undiluted, taken neat with nothing to cut through the loudness of him, was intolerable.

→I never did sit on that side of the couch again.
But I couldn't kick Cole out. He had nowhere to go but down from here. Anyway, it wasn't so much that Cole was intolerable.

→Beck told me not to say Wichser because it was what ignorant German men said when
they knew they were wrong, and a few hours later, Ulrik returned, sans Chauffeur.

→Beck said, “Get that damn langolier out of here.”
Ulrik called Beck a Wichser and left with the dog.

→Within an hour of its arrival, Chauffeur ate four pounds of ground
beef, chewed the cover off a biography of Margaret Thatcher — I think it ate most of the first chapter as well — and left a steaming pile of crap
on the couch.

→It
weighed as much as I did, was a bit mangy around the hips, and sported a very friendly disposition. Ulrik was all smiles, talking about guard
dogs and Schutzhund and how I would grow to love Chauffeur like a brother.