"Paul Di Filippo - And The Dish Ran Away With The Spoon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Di Filippo Paul)

casino. She appreciated such attention in
preparation for her physically demanding
job.
"Now aren't you glad we decided to live
together, Kaz?"
"I have to admit that weekends are a lot more
enjoyable now."
"Just weekends?" Cody asked, stretching
sensuously.
She got docked for being half an hour late
that day, but insisted later it was worth it.
But despite such easygoing routines, I found
that I still couldn't stop worrying about blebs.
Since that first occurrence with the
toothbrushes and tumbler, I had been on the
alert for any more domestic incidents. I took
to shuffling appliances from room to room so
that they wouldn't conspire. I knew this was
foolish, since every chipped device was
capable of communicating over fairly long
distances by relaying message packets one to
another. But still I had an intuition that
physical proximity mattered in bleb
formation. Cody kept complaining about not
being able to find anything when she needed
it, but I just brushed off her mild ire jokingly
and kept up my prophylactic measures. When
a few weeks had passed without any trouble, I
began to feel relieved.
Then I encountered the sock ball.
Cody and I had let the dirty laundry pile up.
We were having too much fun together to
bother with chores, and when each of us was
alone in the townhouse, we tended to spend a
lot of time with ViewMaster and iPod,
enjoying music and media that the other
person didn't necessarily want to share.
It was during one such evening, after Cody
had left me on my own, that the sock ball
manifested.
My attention was drawn away from my book
by a thumping on the closed bedroom door.
Immediately wary, I got up to investigate.
When I tentatively opened the door a crack,
something shot out and thumped me on the
ankle.
I hopped backward on one foot. A patchwork
cloth sphere about as big as a croquet ball
was zooming toward the front door.
I managed to trap the ball under an