"Robert Rankin - The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rankin Robert)

The rugged track wound down the biggish hill/smallish mountain and presently joined a paved and
city-bound road. This pushed onwards through the grey and stunted furze. Onwards and onwards and
onwards. Ahead, the city loomed, its outlying districts becoming more clearly defined. Jack was not
impressed by what he saw. The road reached peasant huts, crude and weathered. Strange and pale little
faces peeped out at him through glassless windows. Jack dug in his heels. 'Slower,' he told Anthrax,
'slower, boy.' Anthrax got a trot on.

Beyond the peasant huts lay what Jack correctly assumed to be the industrial district: grim, grey factories
with chimneys coughing smoke. The air was rank, and Jack took to covering his nose.

'Not very nice around here.’ Jack patted Anthrax's neck. 'This is the kind of place I left behind, factories
like this. But let us not be downhearted. I'm sure we can find a pleasant hostelry in a nicer part of the
city.' The sun was beginning to set.

At length, but a length too long for Jack's liking, the industrial district lay astern, or the equine equivalent
thereof. Now the buildings showed traces of colour: a hint of yellow here and a dash of orange there. A
trifle dusted over, but a definite improvement.

The style of architecture was new to Jack, and therefore looked exotic. The buildings were constructed
from huge square bricks, each embossed with a letter of the alphabet. But these had not been laid in
order to spell out words, but apparently at random.

Suddenly something rushed past Jack and his mount, causing Anthrax to panic. Jack shouted 'Faster!'
very loudly indeed and Anthrax jerked to a halt. Jack viewed the rapidly diminishing rusher: some kind of
mechanical vehicle.

'Car,' said Jack. 'Nothing to be afraid of. I worked upon cars at the factory. Went like the wind, though,
didn't it, boy? I'll be having one of those myself some day soon.'.

Anthrax shook his head about.

'Oh yes I will,' said Jack. 'Stop then, boy. We have to find a hostelry soon or I'll fall off your back from
hunger.'

The sun was all but gone now, but light shone all around, from bright lanterns held aloft by iron columns
that rose at either side of the road at intervals of fifty paces. These lit buildings that showed brighter
colours now, reds and greens and blues, all in alphabet brick.

The colours raised Jack's spirits. 'Almost there,' he told Anthrax. 'A warm stable and a manger of hay
will shortly be yours.'

Anthrax, all but exhausted, plodded onward.

'Listen,' said Jack. 'It's been a difficult day for the both of us. But you've got me here. I'll see you all
right. You're a good horse. Hey, hey, what's that I see ahead?'
What Jack saw ahead was this: a long, low building painted all in a hectic yellow. A sign, wrought from
neon, flashed on and off, as such signs are wont to do. Words were spelled out by this sign. The words
wereNadine's Diner.