...of a daze

Billy Pilgrim was on fire, having stood too close to the glowing stove. The hem of his little coat was burning. It was a quiet, patient sort of fire - like the burning of punk.

Billy wondered if there was a telephone somewhere. He wanted to call his mother, to tell her he was alive and well.

There was silence now, as the Englishmen looked in astonishment at the frowsy creatures they had so lustily waltzed inside. One of the Englishmen saw that Billy was on fire. 'You're on fire, lad!' he said, and he got Billy away from the stove and beat out the sparks with his hands.

When Billy made no comment on this, the Englishman asked him, 'Can you talk? Can you hear?'

Billy nodded.

The Englishman touched him exploratorily here and there, filled with pity. 'My God - what have they done to you, lad? This isn't a man. It's a broken kite.'

[Slaughterhouse 5, Vonnegut, K.]