"Robert Charles Wilson - Julian- A Christmas Story" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wilson Robert Charles)

that was impossible, for we were miles away, and not even the sound of a cannon shot could carry so far
across the prairie. It was only memory speaking.)

And maybe this logic was true of people, too; maybe I was already becoming an inexact echo of what
I had been just days before. Maybe the same was true of Julian. Already something hard and
uncompromising had begun to emerge from his gentle featuresтАФthe first manifestation of a new Julian, a
freshly evolved Julian, called forth by his violent departure from Williams Ford, or slouching toward New
York to be born.

But that was all Philosophy, and not much use, and I kept quiet about it as we spurred our horses in
the direction of the railroad, toward the rude and squalling infant Future.




Copyright ┬й 2006 by Robert Charles Wilson.

Published in December 2006 by PS Publishing.

For more information: http://www.pspublishing.co.Uk/cat/j.asp




Whom I would meet when he was sixty years old, and I was a newcomer to the book tradeтАФbut that's another
[1]
story. {return}


Our local representative of the Council of the Dominion; in effect, the Mayor of the town. {return}
[2]




I beg the reader's patience if I detail matters that seem well-known. I indulge the possibility of a foreign audience, or
[3]
a posterity to whom our present arrangements are not self-evident. {return}


Julian's somewhat feminine nature had won him a reputation among the other young aristos as a sodomite. That
[4]
they could believe this of him without evidence is testimony to the tenor of their thoughts, as a class. But it had
occasionally redounded to my benefit. On more than one occasion, his female acquaintancesтАФsophisticated girls of
my own age, or olderтАФmade the assumption that I was Julian's intimate companion, in a physical sense. Whereupon
they undertook to cure me of my deviant habits, in the most direct fashion. I was happy to cooperate with these
"cures," and they were successful, every time. {return}
The illusion was quite striking when the players were professional, but their lapses could be equally astonishing.
[5]
Julian once recounted to me a New York movie production of Wm. Shakespeare's Hamlet, in which a player had come