"Gene Wolfe - Copperhead" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wolfe Gene)

glorious was he that one felt that the ceiling had risen so that his head would not brush it.

"Because you have done this, cursed be you." His voice was like an organ, his hand like a vise as he
caught her by the throat. "Upon your belly you shall go, and the dust you shall eat, and I shall crush your
head under my heel."



╖╖╖╖╖



In his new realm, where Time sang like a brook, the new President picked himself up and stood
stock-still to listen. The trees in a wood far away were barking; on the cliff that rose behind him, a
mountain ram winded its horns.

The End