It's like World War III. Everything is white. They'll take our bright colors away and use them in the war effort.

I want to tear myself from this place, from this reality, rise up like a cloud and float away, melt into this humid summer night and dissolve somewhere far, over the hills. But I am here, my legs blocks of concrete, my lungs empty of air, my throat burning. There will be no floating away.

Кърли е като повечето дребни хора - ненавижда едрите. Непрекъснато се подкача с тях. Яд го е, види се, на тях, защото не е едър.

Written By John Steinbeck

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