"Robert Reed - Melodies Played upon Cold, Dark Worlds" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reed Robert)

"Sure," I said. As if everybody lives with that nagging problem.

Then with a wink and a teasing smile, I suggested, "Maybe your book hasn't been written yet. Since it's
about the future and all."

She actually believed me. I saw it in her face, in those bright doubt-free eyes. With a gush of wonder, she
asked, "Do you really think so?"
When she was intrigued, the woman was nothing but lovely.

"Maybe you're right," she agreed.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I was making another stupid joke."

But her new belief was too durable to notice my tiny confession. "I think that could be it. I think so."

I was busy thinking about my occult section. What could I sell this very odd woman, before she slipped
out of my door?

With a wink, she suddenly asked, "Are you busy tonight? Would you like to have dinner?"

"Excuse me?"

"Dinner," she repeated. "I want to thank you for your help." She stepped up to the counter, looking very
young and utterly fetching, her sweater pulled taut against an ample chest. "At a restaurant, maybe. Or if
you're brave, I could cook a little something at my place."

What could I sell this woman before she slipped away?

Me. That's what.

"A little something," I said. "Honestly, that's about my favorite dish."



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I don't have to work to make a living. That's what I tell women, and the story has the benefit of being
halfway true. My shop has to pull in enough customers to pay for the lease, the utilities, and my supplies.
Everything else comes from my dead parents' investments. Books are a hobby. They are my
second-favorite vice. The shop allows me to sit most of the day, reading what I want. What I like best is
dense fiction and epic histories, and most of all, the sciences. I have this desperate deep fondness for
anything that smacks of discovery and profound learning. When I read journal articles, or better, when I
read the layman's translations тАж well, there are moments when I feel as if the hand of God is resting on
my shoulder, and Her thunderous voice is whispering to me, saying, "Look at this. Do you see? I am
letting you be among the first to behold what is real, and true, and great."