"Jessica Palmer - Heavenly Bodies" - читать интересную книгу автора (Palmer Jessica) Heavenly Bodies
a short story by Jessica Palmer "Mary?" A melodious voice intruded upon the symphonic landscape of her dream becoming incorporated into it. "Mary?" The twelve-year-old girl twisted upon her bed. Gabriel grimaced. A little young for the task laid before her, he thought. He could just see the headlines in the National Enquirer now, but he needed a virgin, named Mary. And this one had been hard enough to find. "Mary?" Finally, Mary realised that the voice that interrupted her slumber was coming from outside the comfy confines of the duvet. She dragged the sheets across her face. "Just a few more minutes, Mum." "Mary!" The voice was brisk, sharp and ... definitely male. The knuckles on the sheets turned white, and the body under the covers trembled. The voice came again, soft, muted, gentling her. "Come on, Mary, I know you're awake." She sneezed. "Oh hark, oh hark, I bring you news of great tidings and joy." Mary screwed up her courage. The sheets spoke with more bravado than they felt. "Right, pervert. Who are you and what are you doing in my bedroom?" Mary eyed the enormous figure--an equivocal outline in the cotton cloth--but the girl sensed no immediate peril. She relaxed slightly. The shape continued talking. "You of all people have been selected to bear the daughter of God." "Right! Don't tell me, let me guess. You're God," the sheets spoke with real confidence. "Well, no, of course, not. Don't be silly," the figure sniffed and rustled disquietingly beyond the cloth, "God doesn't come down and talk to the ... rabble, Himself. He works through emissaries like me." All fear evaporated. This was a real nutter here. Not even smart enough to claim to be God. Definitely, not someone to be afraid of. "Look, perv, if you don't go away. I'll scream real loud. I'll ... I'll ... " She thought of the worst threat she could imagine. "I'll call my mum!" The knuckles tightened their grip upon the hem and lowered the sheet slowly. Mary steeled herself to hazard a peek at the creep. "And she'll call the cops." A single eye peeped from behind its veil of white. It opened and closed rapidly. Mary blinked. For standing there before her was a creature from her worst images of hell. It had wings, but more than the normal complement for, say, either a butterfly or a bat, and it was completely covered with fur. There must've been a million-zillion eyes extending from each hair. And when it uttered its next syllables, they issued from a least a trillion mouths. |
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