دانلود رمان انگلیسی “مه و خشم”

This forest smells like dead things. Like old shoes stuffed with dying roses or a locker room in the middle of a candle store. Terpenes—organic compounds from the pine trees. Geosmins— compounds made by the bacteria in the soil. Dead things like dried leaves and twigs, squirrels and shit. For real. Shit. Oakland smelled like dead things too. My old neighborhood is surrounded by pine trees and smells like Christmas. The Oakland Zoo is a mile away, and I could smell elephants because of the wind and humidity trapping odor molecules. In West Oakland? Where some of my friends live? I smelled weed, spilled beer, burgers . . . I miss the stink of elephants. Ha. Never thought I’d say that. Back in December, after football practice, me, Keenan, and Trystan cut through the alley behind Happy Sunshine Market to buy some Red Bulls, Takis, and Flamin’ Hot CHEETOS. Trystan said, “You smell that?” and I took a breath cuz Trystan was always saying, “You smell that,” and the smell was always smoked barbecue. Dude was always hungry. This time, though, we smelled Homeless Joe. Not his name, whatever, but we found him behind this big dumpster with his fucked-up feet sticking out from under all these trash bags. He smelled like old steak meat, rotten cabbage, shit, and old eggs. What dead people smell like. Dying cells with no nutrients and oxygen. Microbial invasions of multiplying bacteria. Cuz Homeless Joe was dead. My stomach churned as I called 911, but the police treated me and my boys like we killed Homeless Joe, and then they fuckin’ handcuffed me and Keenan. Technically, I wasn’t even supposed to be in Acorn, but I had been tutoring Keenan, who lived in the Moore Houses. Keenan was the best linebacker at Bishop—six feet six and 220 pounds—but he sucked at chemistry and I was low-key a beast in AP Chem and AP Physics.