"Ty Drago - Bitter Reflections" - читать интересную книгу автора (Drago Ty)

returning it!

"'Well, Larry,' my reflection said. Its voice was my voice, but when it spoke, the surface of the
mirror trembled slightly, as though reacting to the vibration. It used my childhood name.
'Guess I got a little ahead of you that time!'
"Aghast, I retreated back against the wall. In the mirror, my reflection gently placed his razor
on the countertop and leaned closer. I stared, unable to speak. I'm not even sure I was
breathing. The man in the mirror's eyes turned harsh... accusatory. And when he spoke,
there was unmistakable disdain in his words.

"'You know what old man Dunstreet did last night?'

"Dunstreet was the name of the man whose business I now owned; the man who'd fought my
takeover bid with such veracity.
"'He killed himself, Larry. He put a pistol in his mouth and pulled the trigger. There were
tears in his eyes when he did it, and he was holding his daughter's picture in his hand.'

"I shook my head, refusing to believe what I saw and heard. Not that I especially cared about
Dunstreet's death. No, it was the messenger of that news who terrified me. My heart was
pounding fiercely.

"Dear God! I remember thinking. What is this?
"I turned my head toward the bathroom door. It stood open not four feet away from me, but at
the moment the distance looked more like a mile.

"'He was a good man, Larry. A better man than you. But then, that's not so great a feat. Is it?'

"I found my tongue and my feet together. 'What are you?' I shrieked, and raced for the door.
'Leave me alone!'

"As I fled from the bathroom, my face still half-smothered with shaving cream, I heard harsh
laughter. Then the man in the mirror spoke, calling after me. 'You ARE alone, Larry! Don't
you know that?'
"I called for Dickerson, and he came. I told him... or tried to tell him what had happened, but I
suspect it sounded more like meaningless babble than anything else. I'm not a man familiar
with fear, Doctor, and I consider myself very self-reliant. But at that moment I threw my arms
around Dickerson as if he were my... my father. After several minutes, I convinced him to
look in the bathroom... in the mirror. Of course, he saw nothing strange."
Benedict lowered his head over his drink, and closed his eyes. Loretta watched him,
fascinated, theories already racing through her mind. Don't rush it, she reminded herself. Let
him tell his story... his entire story, and then draw your conclusions. After more than a minute,
her host straightened in his chair, gave her a quick, defensive glance, and continued:

"I recovered quickly after that. I told Dickerson to forget it, annoyed at the look of concern I
saw on his face. Then I dressed and went to the office. Even after I discovered that
Dunstreet had, in fact, committed suicide, I still managed to corral my fear. I told myself it
had been part of a particularly vivid dream that had confused me after I'd awakened... that
Dunstreet's death was perfectly predictable, given the way he'd lost his company. At any
rate, by evening the incident was all but forgotten.
"Then, two days later, it happened again.