"David Marusek - The Wedding Album" - читать интересную книгу автора (Marusek David)

Indeed, upon closer inspection Anne could see that the woman had her face and hair but
otherwise didnтАЩt resemble her at all. She was leggier than Anne and bustier, and she moved with
a fluid swivel to her hips.

"Sure I belong here, as much as any of you. I just passed the Lolly test. It was easy. Not only that,
but as far as spouses go, I outlasted the bunch of you." She stood in front of Anne, hands on hips,
and looked her up and down. "Love the dress," she said, and instantly wore a copy. Only hers had
a plunging neckline that exposed her breasts, and it was slit up the side to her waist.

"This is too much," said Mattie. "I insist you leave this jiffy."

The doxie smirked. "Mattie the doormat, thatтАЩs what he always called that one. So tell me, Anne,
you had money, a career, a house, a kid-whyтАЩd you do it?"

"Do what?" said Anne.

The doxie peered closely at her. "DonтАЩt you know?"

"Know what?"

"What an unexpected pleasure," said the doxie. "I get to tell her. This is too rich. I get to tell her
unless"-she looked around at the others-"unless one of you fine ladies wants to." No one met her
gaze. "Hypocrites," she chortled.

"You can say that again," said a new voice. Anne turned and saw Cathy, her oldest and dearest
friend, standing at the open door. At least she hoped it was Cathy. The woman was what Cathy
would look like in middle age. "Come along, Anne. IтАЩll tell you everything you need to know."

"Now you hold on," said Mattie. "You donтАЩt come waltzing in here and steal our guest of honor."

"You mean victim, IтАЩm sure," said Cathy, who waved for Anne to join her. "Really, people, get a
clue. There must be a million women whose lives donтАЩt revolve around that man." She escorted
Anne through the door and slammed it shut behind them.

Anne found herself standing on a high bluff, overlooking the confluence of two great rivers in a
deep valley. Directly across from her, but several kilometers away, rose a mighty mountain, green
with vegetation nearly to its granite dome. Behind it, a range of snow-covered mountains
receded to an unbroken ice field on the horizon. In the valley beneath her, a dirt track
meandered along the river banks. She could see no bridge or buildings of any sort.

"Where are we?"

"DonтАЩt laugh," said Cathy, "but we call it Cathyland. Turn around." When she did, Anne saw a
picturesque log cabin, beside a vegetable garden in the middle of what looked like acres and
acres of Cathys. Thousands of Cathys, young, old, and all ages in between. They sat in lotus
position on the sedge- and-moss-covered ground. They were packed so tight they overlapped a
little, and their eyes were shut in an expression of single-minded concentration. "We know youтАЩre
here," said Cathy, "but weтАЩre very preoccupied with this Simopolis thing."