The Rocket
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Начало книги
Many nights Fiorello Bodoni would awaken to hear the rockets sighing in the dark sky. He would tiptoe from bed, certain that his kind wife was dreaming, to let himself out into the night air. For a few moments he would be free of the smells of old food in the small house by the river. For a silent moment he would let his heart soar alone into space, following the rockets.
Now, this very night, he stood half naked in the darkness, watching the fire fountains murmuring in the air. The rockets on their long wild way to Mars and Saturn and Venus!
«Well, well, Bodoni.»
Bodoni started.
On a milk crate, by the silent river, sat an old man who also watched the rockets through the midnight hush.
«Oh, it's you, Bramante!»
«Do you come out every night, Bodoni?»
«Only for the air.»
«So? I prefer the rockets myself,» said old Bramante. «I was a boy when they started. Eighty years ago, and I've never been on one yet.»
- Жанр
- Классическая проза
- Год написания
- 1950
- Язык
- en
- Размер FB2
- 20,6 КБ
- Добавлена