"Roger Zelazny - Amber 06 - Trumps Of Doom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zelazny Roger)

except in the most general terms.
"I don't think so," I said. "How're yours?"
He caught my gaze and held it, his chronic smile widening slightly.
"Hard to say," he replied. "We're kind of out of touch."
I smiled, too.
"I know the feeling."
We finished our food, had a final coffee...
"So you won't be talking to Miller?" he asked.
"No."
He shrugged again. The check came by and he picked it up:
"This one's on me," he said. "After all, I'm working."
"Thanks. Maybe I can get back at you for dinner. Where're you staying?"
"Wait." He reached into his shirt pocket, took out a matchbook, tossed it
to me. "There. New Line Motel," he said.
"Say I come by about six?"
"Okay."
He settled up and we parted on the street.
"See you," he said.
"Yeah." Bye-bye, Luke Raynard. Strange man. We'd known each other for
almost eight years. Had some good times. Competed in a number of sports. Used
to jog together almost every day. We'd both been on the track team. Dated the
same girls sometimes. I wondered about him again - strong, smart, and as
private a person as myself. There was a bond between us, one that I didn't
fully understand.
I walked back to my apartment's parking lot and checked under my car's
hood and frame before I tossed my pack inside and started the engine. I drove
slowly, looking at things that had been fresh and new eight years before,
saying good-bye to them now. During the past week I had said it to all of the
people who had mattered to me. Except for Julia.
It was one of those things I felt like putting off, but there was no time.
It was either now or not at all, and my curiosity had been piqued. I pulled
into a shopping mall's lot and located a pay phone, but there was no answer
when I rang her number. I supposed she could be working full-time on a
dayshift again, but she could also be taking a shower or be out shopping. I
decided to drive on over to her place and see. It wasn't that far. And
whatever it was that she had for me, picking it up would be a good excuse for
seeing her this one last time.
I cruised the neighborhood for several minutes before I located a parking
space. I locked the car, walked back to the corner, and turned right. The day
had grown slightly warmer. Somewhere, dogs were barking.
 I strolled on up the block to that huge Victorian house that had been
converted into apartments. I couldn't see her windows from the front. She was
on the top floor - to the rear. I tried to suppress memories as I passed on up
the front walk, but it was no good. Thoughts of our times together came
rushing back along with a gang of old feelings. I halted... It was silly
coming here. Why bother, for something I hadn't even missed. Still...
Hell. I wanted to see her one more time. I wasn't going to back out now. I
mounted the steps and crossed the porch. The door was open a crack so I walked
in.
Same foyer. Same tired-looking potted violet, dust on its leaves, on the