Вино из одуванчиков. Повесть и рассказы

and it trailed glorious clouds and it put out your eyes like the sun.

His thoughts were heavy and barely ticked like seed pellets falling in an hourglass slow one by falling one. Tick.

John fell down the elm-tree corridor like someone falling down an endless summer well, dwindling away.

They put the ice in handkerchiefs on his face and along his body. They drew the shades and made the room like a cave.

hesitated like a man plunging into the outer rim of hell,

“Doug, you awake?”

“Come on, Doug. We’ll drown in the river all day.”
<…>
Boy, this house’ll burn down today.”

The sidewalks were haunted by dust ghosts

a doll or a game they had grown tired of, something the fun had gone out of, like the flavor from gum, and now it was time for it to pass on to some other part of town where, seen for the first time, it would be revivified and would revivify others.

in the shadow pools under trees,