"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 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 |
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