"Richard Paul Russo - Butterflies" - читать интересную книгу автора (Russo Richard Paul) file:///C|/3278%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E-books/Richard%20Paul%20Russo%20-%20Butterflies.html
RICHARD PAUL RUSSO BUTTERFLIES THE HEAT WAS KILLING HIM. There was the chatter of monkeys, buzz of flies; a long sharp caw. Water flowed somewhere nearby, falling over stones. Mason stumbled out of the trees and into a clearing. A cloud of blue and white butterflies rose from the moss at his feet, fluttering about his face, momentarily blinding him. When the butterflies cleared away, he saw a hut on the other side of the clearing. Mason was certain the hut hadn't been there a moment ago. He crossed the clearing, squinting against the glare and the heat of the sun. Dead vines hung from the roof of the hut, trailed across the open doorway and the single window. Mason climbed the two steps and pushed through the vines. The hut was empty, and even hotter than outside. Mason came back out of the hut. It was late afternoon, he was exhausted and thirsty, and he wondered if he should search for the water he heard. Chances were good it would be gone by the time he reached it, or it would turn out to be his head, deciding no. He was too tired for that. He moved around the hut to the side shaded from the sun and lay on the soft carpet of thick, green moss, his back against the hut wall. The noise around him steadily increased -- birds shrieked, animals snorted, insects cracked and whirred. Something like the beat of drums vibrated up to him through the moss. Mason closed his eyes and slept. He did not know where he was, and only barely knew who he was. If he was still on Earth, it was a part of Earth unlike any he had ever known or heard of--a place where, it seemed, physical laws were regularly defied. He knew his name, but almost nothing else about himself. His past was gone. He did not know how to get it back. When he woke it was morning. Mason lay on his back and gazed up at the sky above him. A thick, orange haze obscured all signs of the sun; or perhaps the sun was not yet high enough to be seen. The heat was already stifling. The sound of flowing water was louder now, and his thirst had become painful. He heard the crackling static of a radio. He glanced up at the roof, saw a long thin antenna projecting from the peak. Now this is interesting, he thought. He file:///C|/3278%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E-b.../Richard%20Paul%20Russo%20-%20Butterflies.html (1 of 18) [1/17/2005 6:54:39 PM] |
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