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Isaac Azimov (USA)THE UGLY LITTLE BOY
As always, before to open carefully closed door, Edit Fellouz
Has corrected the working dressing gown and only after that has crossed that invisible
Line that separated the real world from the nonexistent. At it were it Notebook and pen though it since some time did not conduct more Regular records, resorting to them only in case of the extreme Necessities.
This time it bore with herself a suitcase. "It is games for boys".
Having smiled, she has explained to the security guard who very long time ago has already ceased
To set to it any questions and has only given up as a bad job, passing it.
As always, the ugly little boy has felt at once its presence and, Crying, has rushed to it towards.
- Ms. Fellouz, Ms. Fellouz, - he muttered, saying words is soft and Slightly muffledly, in a manner peculiar one to it.
- What happens, Timmi? - She has asked, conducting a hand on its shapeless
- it will return again to play with me? It is very ashamed for me for that,
That has occurred.
- Do not think more of it, Timmi. Because of it you also cry?
He has turned away.
- Not absolutely, Ms. Fellouz. The matter is that I again had a dream.
- Again the same dream? - Ms. Fellouz has gritted a teeth.
Certainly, this history with Dzherri should cause the old in the boy Dream.
He has nodded, trying to smile, and its widely stretched, outstanding Forward lips have bared too big teeth.
- When I, at last, will enough grow up to leave from here, Ms.
- Soon, - she has softly answered, feeling, as its heart is compressed, - is fast.
Ms. Fellouz has allowed Timmi to take itself for a hand and with pleasure has felt
Warm touch of a rough dry skin of its palm. He has led it through Rooms which made First Sektsiju Stasisa, rooms, undoubtedly Comfortable enough, but nevertheless were for the seven-year (Whether seven-year?) it a place of the eternal conclusion.
It has made it to one of the windows, leaving on covered with the undersized
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