Roadside Picnic

replace me

• “Hell slime, if I understood correctly,” Dick says, and gives me a strange look. “Ah, so he needs hell slime!” I say. “Maybe he’d like a death lamp as well?” “I asked him about that, too.” “Well?” “Believe it or not, he does.” “Yeah?” I say. “Then he can go get them himself. It’s easy as pie! We have basements full of hell slime, he can take a bucket and dip right in. It’s his funeral.”

• “The Monkey, squealing and shouting with laughter, immediately climbed on top of him. She stepped on him, pulled his hair, and showered him with important information. The neighbor kid Willy tore dolly’s leg off. There was a new kitten on the third floor, all white and with red eyes—he probably didn’t listen to his mommy and went in the Zone. There was oatmeal and jam for supper. Uncle Gutalin was sloshed again and felt sick, he even cried. Why don’t fish drown, if they’re in water? Why wasn’t Mommy sleeping at night? Why do we have five fingers, but only two arms, and one nose? Redrick carefully hugged the warm creature crawling all over him, looked into the huge, entirely black eyes with no whites, pressed his face to the chubby little cheek covered in silky golden fur, and repeated, “My Monkey … Oh, you Monkey … What a little Monkey …”

Excerpt From Roadside Picnic (Rediscovered Classics) Strugatsky, Arkady This material may be protected by copyright.