Желтые обои

           Youthinkyouhavemasteredit,butjustasyougetwellunderwayinfollowing,itturnsaback-somersaultandthereyouare. Itslapsyouintheface,knocksyoudown,andtramplesuponyou.Itislikeabaddream. 

           Theoutsidepatternisafloridarabesque,remindingoneofafungus. Ifyoucanimagineatoadstoolinjoints,aninterminablestringoftoadstools,buddingandsproutinginendlessconvolutions—why,thatissomethinglikeit. 

           Thatis,sometimes! 

           Thereisonemarkedpeculiarityaboutthispaper,athingnobodyseemstonoticebutmyself,andthatisthatitchangesasthelightchanges. 

           Whenthesunshootsinthroughtheeastwindow—Ialwayswatchforthatfirstlong,straightray—itchangessoquicklythatInevercanquitebelieveit. 

           ThatiswhyIwatchitalways. 

           Bymoonlight—themoonshinesinallnightwhenthereisamoon—Iwouldn’tknowitwasthesamepaper. 

           Atnightinanykindoflight,intwilight,candlelight,lamplight,andworstofallbymoonlight,itbecomesbars!TheoutsidepatternImean,andthewomanbehinditisasplainascanbe. 

           Ididn’trealizeforalongtimewhatthethingwasthatshowedbehind,thatdimsub-pattern,butnowIamquitesureitisawoman. 

           Bydaylightsheissubdued,quiet.Ifancyitisthepatternthatkeepshersostill.Itissopuzzling.Itkeepsmequietbythehour.