"Molly Brown - Asleep At The Wheel" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brown Molly)

Tanya turned to face her. "You really wanna do something for me? Then let
me go. It's easy. All you have to do is wake up." She raised her voice to
a shout. "Wake up!"

It was dark, and the street was empty. Carrie started to walk the two
blocks back to her parents' apartment. The only sounds were those of her
quick footsteps on the pavement, and the jingling of bells. Then she heard
another sound: a constant tap, tap, tap, high above her head. She looked
up and saw a moth, flinging itself at a streetlamp. Strange, she thought.
How could she possibly hear such a tiny sound?
She tapped on her parents' window - tap, tap, tap, like a moth drawn by a
light. She tapped on the walls and on the furniture. They didn't hear. She
walked through the living room and the kitchen. They didn't see her. She
touched them, but they didn't feel her.

Carrie stood on the back porch, clutching the wooden railing.
Eric touched her on the arm. "Come inside."
"It's different this time, Eric. I remember the dream - or part of it,
anyway."
"Really?" he said. "So what do you dream about when you go away?"
"I dream I'm old and I have a daughter who hates me."
Eric shook his head, looking puzzled. "Why do you think she hates you?"
Carrie thought a moment. "I'm the one who dreamed her into existence, I'm
the one who makes her jump through hoops, and she knows it. Somehow, she
knows it. The last time I saw her, she begged me to end it."
Eric leaned forward, touching her hand. "Then let the poor girl go,
Carrie. Let her go."
Carrie closed her eyes and nodded. "I will."
"Do you remember anything else about your dream?"
"I think I had a husband, and he wasn't very happy, either..."

"Jack!" Carrie shook him by the shoulders. "Jack, wake up!"
He sat up. "Whattsa matter?"
"I just had the weirdest dream!"
He groaned and fell back onto the pillow. "You woke me up for that?"
"I've got to tell you now, while I still remember."
"Can't you tell me in the morning?"
"No! If I wait 'til morning, I'll forget it again."
Jack sighed and made a face. "All right, what is it?"
"I dreamed that I died when I was seventeen years old, and that everything
I've done since then, everything I thought was real - was the dream."
Jack scratched his head. "Let me get this straight. You dreamed you'd been
dead for..." he closed his eyes and did some mental arithmetic, "...about
twenty-five years. And everything you'd done over the last quarter of a
century was just some dream you had after you died?"
"In the dream, I'd never left my parents' old apartment. I couldn't leave;
I was a ghost. An old friend who died a long time ago was there, too."
Carrie shrugged, embarrassed. "He was more than a friend, actually. We
went steady all through high school, then he got killed in Viet Nam.
Anyway, he told me we were there because we'd both died young and