"BRYANT, Edward - Stone (v0.5)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bryant Edward)

Version 0.5 dtd 033100




STONE*
Edward Bryant

There Is an Image of the writer which has it that his brain only works when his fingers are connected to the keys of the typewriter, so that In normal human affairs he Is stammering and incoherent. Tisn't true. Least of all Is it true of Ed Bryant. When he Isn't writing, he Is going to science-fiction conventions; and what he does at them Is to act as toastmaster at the banquets. Lots of writers do that. Bryant does it brilliantly If the gift of writing ever passes from him, he can make a living as a stand-up comedian-but it Isn't likely he'll have to do that, as long as he Is capable of writing stories like

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Up above the burning city, a woman wails the blues. How she cries out, how she moans. Flames fed by tears rake fingers across the sky.
It is an old, old song:
Fill me like the mountains
Fill me like the sea

Writhing in the heat, she stands where there is no support. The fire licks her body.

All of me

So finely drawn, and with the glitter of ice, the manipulating wires radiate outward. Taut bonds between her body and the flickering darkness, all wires lead to the intangible

'Winner, Nebula, for Best Short Story of 1978.
overshadowing figure behind her. Without expression, Atropos gazes down at the woman.
Face contorting, she looks into the hearts of a million fires and cries out.

All of me

As Atropos raises the terrible, cold-shining blades of the Nornshears and with only the barest hesitation cuts the wires. Limbs spread-eagled to the compass points, the woman plunges into the flames. She is instantly and utterly consumed.
The face of Atropos remains shrouded in shadows.

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ALPERTRON PRESENTS

IN CONCERT

JAIN SNOW

with

MOOG INDIGO

Sixty-track stim by RobCal

June 23, 24
One show nightly at 2100

Tickets $30, $26, $22.