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Nobody here but us broken-down old former cops. Have you found a book?”“Not yet.”“Don’t take too long.”“Gimme a couple minutes,” Fric said.As Ethan released the intercom button, a light flashed on the telephone, then burned steadily: Line 24.[520] He studied the items arranged on the desk between the telephone. Ladybugs, snails, foreskinsof a more realistic fear he was reluctant to face. Now he was on the verge of grasping the true terror.Suddenly he knew that reality as he perceived it was like the colored-glass image presented by the angled mirrors at the end of a kaleidoscope. The pattern ...His attention drifted back to the phone. The indicator lamp. Line 24.The half-heard voice issuing from the far side of the moon, to which he’d listened for half an hour on this phone the previous night, had been resonating in his heart ever since. And the faint voice that he’d thought he heard coming from thespeaker in the hospital elevator just this morning.Cookie jar full of Scrabble tiles, the book Paws for Reflection, the stitched apple with the eye at its core ...In the elevator, he had pressed STOP, not merely to listen longer to the voice but because he’d had the feeling that when he reached the hospital garage, no garage would be there. Only lapping black water. Or an abyss.At the time, he had sensed that this absurd phobic response must be the sublimation
Sunday, December 21, 2008
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