Book: Pet cemetery

In the howling of the wind, Jadu always heard the voices of the dead, sighing in chorus, singing somewhere far, far away, the song of Death.

It would probably be incorrect to assume that there is a limit of horror that people can experience. On the contrary, it creates the strong impression that the nightmare is growing exponentially, when the darkness thickens, the horrors multiply, one misfortune begets another, even more terrible and hopeless, until you begin to feel that the whole world was plunged into darkness. And, maybe the worst question in this case is: how much horror can withstand the human mind, while remaining healthy and solid? It is clear that the most awful events have their share of the absurd in the style of Rube Goldberg. At some point, everything starts to seem funny. Apparently, this is the turning point when the humor is taken to restore its position.

But as time goes on, the pain is dulled, feelings succeed each other like the colors in the rainbow. Strong grief becomes just grief is not as poignant and inescapable; the mountain turns into a silent grief, and eventually the sorrow turns into the memories, this process takes from six months to three years.

Now it became really scary. Fear gently seeped through the skin and filled all the voids inside the black smoke.

He read somewhere that the average person falls asleep in seven minutes. Only seven minutes is needed to disconnect from all your experiences. Seven minutes to the conscious and subconscious are reversed, like the rotating images on the wall in the chamber of horrors at an amusement Park. This was something eerie.

Maybe that's because people behave when encounters with the unexplained, he thought. Maybe I should behave when faced with the irrational, beyond the line of normal cause and effect of our normal world. Maybe that's the way you react to a flying saucer that will fly one over your house, throwing a small black shadow, and the rain of frogs, and hands from under the bed, which middle of the night suddenly catches you in the leg. You can laugh and cry... but, if you want to be yourself and keep your sanity, learn to ignore these horrors, like kidney stones.

Cats - gangsters of the animal world, living outside the law and also dying.

Maybe in the life of every person will be typed no more than a month happy days.

- Dad, why do people die?
I don't know, probably to make room for the new. For kids.

The photos in the album. Stories in which she was not arthritis, but the blood remained young and hot. Is the past not needed her the most. And if the human body is only an envelope containing a soul, think as believers, for these tough guys, the past was the writing, which they never read.

Death is a mystery, a funeral, a sacrament.

God save the past.

For every man - and every woman - like the flowers in the valley, which bloom today and are tomorrow cast into the oven.

Lord God, how quickly everything passes.