"Paul Di Filippo - Daydream Nation" - читать интересную книгу автора (Di Filippo Paul)

to macho and domineering, all unimaginative and clich├йd. Happily, none of them was as loathsome as Big
Red's. But nothing better could be said for the offerings of the various males who cast their dreams Cirri's
way. Not one of them featured an ounce of real romance.

At least Ken's cyrano had been a quality product. Maybe she had been a little too hasty in ending their
affair? No, there was no utility in trying to revise the past ...
Dispirited and despairing, Cirri left the club about 1.30am.

Trudging through the cobbled streets of the meat-packing district, heading toward the nearest subway
stop, Cirri wondered if courtship by iDreams was much of an improvement on the ancient methods. This
supposedly deeper and more telling glimpse into the soul of a potential partner, designed to circumvent
glibness and facile flattery, boasted unique new pitfalls.

Cirri's train arrived before too long, and she got on the closest carriage.

About 10 people occupied the many available seats, scattered here and there. Cirri dropped wearily into
a random one, taking little notice of her fellow riders.

When she finally glanced up from her self-absorption, she encountered the expectant gaze of a fellow
dreamer seated just across the aisle.

The guy was a little older than Cirri. Wearing a leather jacket over a ripped T-shirt, and paint-stained
pants, he was a pudgy, unshaven bohemian of some sort, his face more homely than handsome. Hardly
Cirri's type.

And of course, he just had to be sporting an iDreams bindi. God, she could only imagine what kind of
puerile fantasy he'd send her way. Probably something involving hobbits ...

He was waiting patiently for her to offer him an iDream. Deliberately she looked away instead,
considered peeling her bindi off, legally blocking any contact. But some last shred of hope forestalled that
gesture.

Out of the corner of one eye, Cirri could see that the fellow was not dissuaded. In fact, he took out his
phone and snapped her picture! Then he caused his phone to project a glowing hologram display in the
air. Cirri recognised the icons of DreamShop. Was the guy going to compose a spontaneous iDream right
here?

His flickering fingers signalled that he was.

In short time, the dream was fully compiled. Cirri had never seen anyone craft a dream so fast.

From phone to iDreamsCaster the file flowed. The fellow aimed his caster politely at Cirri, waiting one
final moment for her to register some objection.

Then he zapped her.

Cirri and Boho Guy were dancing. On the Moon. Nearly weightless, they pirouetted in long graceful
spirals beneath the stars, protected by a transparent gaudy pleasure dome, the only two lovers in the
whole universe. She felt immeasurable happiness and contentment. The aerial waltz seemed to go on
forever, ending only when they sank into a pile of colourful cushions.