"Laura Resnick - Ever Since Eden" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Laura)

because I enter and leave several times, just to make sure it can be done.
After long and strenuous thought, I have decided that the truth lies
here. The dream always begins here and now. All my other attempts to conquer
this phobia have failed, so I have come to confront this moment, this place.
I walk slowly down the aisle. The musty smell in here is unmistakable,




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remembered across the span of years. It is a reptilian odor, the stench of
something legless and silent. It is mingled with the smell of my own fear. I
leave the building again, just to make sure I can, then force myself to
re-enter it.
My eyes adjust as I force my feet to keep taking steps. It is shadowy
in this building, as it always has been, and each shadow is a slithering
menace. A little boy runs past me, and I nearly jump out of my skin.
The green mambas are involved in a mating ritual. He stimulates her
body, moving his head over and over her length, again and again. They twine
around each other, their lithe, green bodies twisting in the branches of the
tree. There is something hideously, distressingly erotic about it. The serpent
beguiled Eve; now, watching the mambas writhe ecstatically in their tree, I
finally understand how. Repulsed, I back away.
The Egyptian cobra sits up and spreads its hood as I approach its cage.
Its obsidian eyes stare directly into mine. Its pose frightens me. I remind
myself that the Egyptian cobra is a slow striker. I should have time to move
back if it attempts to bite me. Then I remember it's in a cage.
Feeling silly, I walk away so the next visitor can have a good look at
it. Then I glance around and realize there are no other visitors. The small
boy and his family have left. No one else has entered. I am alone. With
_them_.
I leave the building, just to make sure I can. Aware that I have not
yet found whatever it is I'm seeking, I force myself to go back inside. I pass
the cages I have already visited and continue where I left off.
The anaconda hides in its small jungle pool, curled beneath the fallen
limb of a tree to conceal itself from unwary prey. Its unblinking eyes peer up
at the painted walls of its cage. It waits for something -- or someone -- to
come down to the river for a drink, a bath, a bucket of water. It waits for a
child, it waits for a woman, it waits for me. There is enmity between us, as
God promised the serpent, as the priest promised me. Nausea, hatred, and fear
engulf me as I watch the blank, evil face which watches for a sign of its next
victim. It is ancient and eternal, this horror.
I walk on, increasingly overcome by revulsion. Maybe coming here wasn't
such a good idea. What am I accomplishing? I'm already shaking and covered
with a sheen of sweat. Better to leave before I start gibbering. I walk past
the king snake and follow the tunnel round to the exit. I stop short. The exit
is blocked. A sign says: Please Return to the Main Entrance. I don't want to
go back. I step forward and try the door handle. It's locked.
I turn around and look down the long corridor. I've never suffered from
claustrophobia, but I feel the building closing in on me now. I'll have to go