[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
other men during her marriage the delightfully silly fantasy parade of improbably costumed Johnny
Depps and Brad Pitts and Nicolas Cages their flesh had tasted likeSandy 's. The way they'd held her
had been withSandy 's light nervous touch, and they had all kissed her withSandy 's lips.
When she had askedSandy to leave, she had ceased dreaming about men at all.
She woke with a gasp of delight, and for that first instant she felt that if she turned her head Phil would
be there in bed beside her, beach sand still in his hair.
What the hell am I thinking ?
& little sluts are all alike, whispered a voice in her thoughts& .good for one thing&
The intense joy she'd taken from his touch washed away in cold shock.
But lying in the dark, staring at the ghostly trapezoids of streetlights reflected on the ceiling, she felt no
surprise. It was as if she knew she was drawn to Phil from the first moment she saw him in the feeble
glow of her flashlight&
Only of course that hadn't been the first time.
The first time was the dark shape bulking at the bottom of the stairs, blackness against blackness deeper
still, whispering& reaching out to her.
Maddie sat up in bed, trembling, her arms clasped around her knees. Fearing that if she lay down she'd
sleep again, and dream about him.
Dream about making love to him or dream about the shadow at the bottom of the stairs.
Sandyreturned to her mind, and her own crazy blaze of passion and tenderness for him. Even all those
nights of drunken ramblings, all those nights of being wakened with demands that she go out to the
pharmacyright thenand get him more of whatever he needed that week all those moments of murderous
rage and humiliation had not erased her love. Knowing about him what she knew, though every single
specific memory ofSandy was the memory of awfulness, the pain in her heart was the pain of loss.
Of course I'd have frenzied dreams of making love to a maniac who lurks around deserted buildings at
night!
Dim illumination revealed the shapes of her little alcove, separated from the long axis of the apartment
with its neat wall of sheet. Dresser, nightstand, bronze lamp in the shape of a dancing elf, closet crammed
with costumes and veils, a print of an Alma-Tademapainting on the wall. FromEleventh Avenue far below
a horn honked New Yorknever really slept and very faint music trickled in from the apartment next
door. Baby slumbered on the pillow at her side.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
No sound from the other side of the curtain. Tessa had been asleep when Maddie had come in from
Al-Medina, a tangle of Indian-black hair on the pillows ofSandy 's pink-and-turquoisePopuluxe couch.
Knowing how poorly the girl slept, Maddie had not even turned on the light as she'd put up the burglar
bar and the chains, and slipped through to her own cubicle.
The memory of Phil's lips, even through the surrogacy of a dream, wouldn't leave her.
The memory of his hands, a laborer's hands with a pianist's touch.
The weight of his body pressing down onto hers.
The slow grin in his eyes as he said,lean get out with both feet in my mouth, and his distress with himself
that he'd angered her.
If she slept again, she wondered, would she be back with him?
It's safe, she had said in her dream. But she no longer trusted her dreams.
Moving carefully so as not to disturb Baby, Maddie switched on the bronze lamp to its lowest glow and.
reached into the bottom drawer of the nightstand for the cards.
Being a card reader, Maddie had discovered, was similar in many ways to being a belly dancer: one was
constantly getting tarred with the same brush that categorized the Josis of the world. Most of the people
who made appointments to come to her little cubbyhole in the back of the Darkness Visible
bookstore or who just walked in off the street saying,Hey, can you tell my fortune? had firm
preconceptions of what the tarot cards were and did, and most of those preconceptions varied so widely
from person to person that Maddie sometimes wondered if they were all thinking about the same objects.
Seventy-eight symbols.
Pictures that embodied truths or situations, or clusters of possible events.
If there is a pattern, an intentionality, to Is-ness,her teacher had told her,the cards line up with that
pattern, Like iron filings in a magnetic field. Those who touch the cards affect the local swirls of the
pattern of All That Is. Those who study them see different meanings in those alignments.
If the dances of theMaghreb and theMiddle East were Maddie's road to self and joy, the cards were her
parallel road of connection to the world, in its widest sense. She couldn't imagine thinking in terms other
than the shadowy armature of their infinite combinations.
This should at least be able to give me some insights about who this man is, reflected Maddie, fishing
from the same drawer a small scented candle on a green glass saucer,and whether I'm crazy to feel
toward him what I do.
It may even mention whether or not he was the whisperer in the shadows& or why he chose to screen
the whisperer when I asked, Did you hear anyone else?
Her hands shook a little as she lit the candle, switched out the bedside lamp.
What kind of an answer isDid you?
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Maddie took three deep breaths and shuffled the cards.
After a little hesitation, she chose the King of Pentacles to represent Phil. Pentacles was the suit of Earth,
of craftsmen and artists, of money and property which Phil didn't have any of, apparently. The king was
used as a significator for a dark-haired man, a brown-eyed man and if his birthday was yesterday a
Capricorn, one of the signs of Earth. She could as easily have used the Knight of Pentacles Phil was,
like the knights, a seeker and a traveler but it was one of the several cards she'd used for Sandy, who
had been a Capricorn, too. PoorSandy had never had the core of adult strength in him to be King of
anything.
Usually, the card she had used forSandy was the card he had chosen to represent himself: the Fool. The
blithe traveler so rapt in contemplation of his thoughts that he doesn't see the cliff that gapes before his
feet.
Maddie closed her eyes, whispered her prayer to be shown what she needed to see, and laid out the
cards.
And sat back, disgusted and appalled. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl freetocraft.keep.pl
other men during her marriage the delightfully silly fantasy parade of improbably costumed Johnny
Depps and Brad Pitts and Nicolas Cages their flesh had tasted likeSandy 's. The way they'd held her
had been withSandy 's light nervous touch, and they had all kissed her withSandy 's lips.
When she had askedSandy to leave, she had ceased dreaming about men at all.
She woke with a gasp of delight, and for that first instant she felt that if she turned her head Phil would
be there in bed beside her, beach sand still in his hair.
What the hell am I thinking ?
& little sluts are all alike, whispered a voice in her thoughts& .good for one thing&
The intense joy she'd taken from his touch washed away in cold shock.
But lying in the dark, staring at the ghostly trapezoids of streetlights reflected on the ceiling, she felt no
surprise. It was as if she knew she was drawn to Phil from the first moment she saw him in the feeble
glow of her flashlight&
Only of course that hadn't been the first time.
The first time was the dark shape bulking at the bottom of the stairs, blackness against blackness deeper
still, whispering& reaching out to her.
Maddie sat up in bed, trembling, her arms clasped around her knees. Fearing that if she lay down she'd
sleep again, and dream about him.
Dream about making love to him or dream about the shadow at the bottom of the stairs.
Sandyreturned to her mind, and her own crazy blaze of passion and tenderness for him. Even all those
nights of drunken ramblings, all those nights of being wakened with demands that she go out to the
pharmacyright thenand get him more of whatever he needed that week all those moments of murderous
rage and humiliation had not erased her love. Knowing about him what she knew, though every single
specific memory ofSandy was the memory of awfulness, the pain in her heart was the pain of loss.
Of course I'd have frenzied dreams of making love to a maniac who lurks around deserted buildings at
night!
Dim illumination revealed the shapes of her little alcove, separated from the long axis of the apartment
with its neat wall of sheet. Dresser, nightstand, bronze lamp in the shape of a dancing elf, closet crammed
with costumes and veils, a print of an Alma-Tademapainting on the wall. FromEleventh Avenue far below
a horn honked New Yorknever really slept and very faint music trickled in from the apartment next
door. Baby slumbered on the pillow at her side.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
No sound from the other side of the curtain. Tessa had been asleep when Maddie had come in from
Al-Medina, a tangle of Indian-black hair on the pillows ofSandy 's pink-and-turquoisePopuluxe couch.
Knowing how poorly the girl slept, Maddie had not even turned on the light as she'd put up the burglar
bar and the chains, and slipped through to her own cubicle.
The memory of Phil's lips, even through the surrogacy of a dream, wouldn't leave her.
The memory of his hands, a laborer's hands with a pianist's touch.
The weight of his body pressing down onto hers.
The slow grin in his eyes as he said,lean get out with both feet in my mouth, and his distress with himself
that he'd angered her.
If she slept again, she wondered, would she be back with him?
It's safe, she had said in her dream. But she no longer trusted her dreams.
Moving carefully so as not to disturb Baby, Maddie switched on the bronze lamp to its lowest glow and.
reached into the bottom drawer of the nightstand for the cards.
Being a card reader, Maddie had discovered, was similar in many ways to being a belly dancer: one was
constantly getting tarred with the same brush that categorized the Josis of the world. Most of the people
who made appointments to come to her little cubbyhole in the back of the Darkness Visible
bookstore or who just walked in off the street saying,Hey, can you tell my fortune? had firm
preconceptions of what the tarot cards were and did, and most of those preconceptions varied so widely
from person to person that Maddie sometimes wondered if they were all thinking about the same objects.
Seventy-eight symbols.
Pictures that embodied truths or situations, or clusters of possible events.
If there is a pattern, an intentionality, to Is-ness,her teacher had told her,the cards line up with that
pattern, Like iron filings in a magnetic field. Those who touch the cards affect the local swirls of the
pattern of All That Is. Those who study them see different meanings in those alignments.
If the dances of theMaghreb and theMiddle East were Maddie's road to self and joy, the cards were her
parallel road of connection to the world, in its widest sense. She couldn't imagine thinking in terms other
than the shadowy armature of their infinite combinations.
This should at least be able to give me some insights about who this man is, reflected Maddie, fishing
from the same drawer a small scented candle on a green glass saucer,and whether I'm crazy to feel
toward him what I do.
It may even mention whether or not he was the whisperer in the shadows& or why he chose to screen
the whisperer when I asked, Did you hear anyone else?
Her hands shook a little as she lit the candle, switched out the bedside lamp.
What kind of an answer isDid you?
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Maddie took three deep breaths and shuffled the cards.
After a little hesitation, she chose the King of Pentacles to represent Phil. Pentacles was the suit of Earth,
of craftsmen and artists, of money and property which Phil didn't have any of, apparently. The king was
used as a significator for a dark-haired man, a brown-eyed man and if his birthday was yesterday a
Capricorn, one of the signs of Earth. She could as easily have used the Knight of Pentacles Phil was,
like the knights, a seeker and a traveler but it was one of the several cards she'd used for Sandy, who
had been a Capricorn, too. PoorSandy had never had the core of adult strength in him to be King of
anything.
Usually, the card she had used forSandy was the card he had chosen to represent himself: the Fool. The
blithe traveler so rapt in contemplation of his thoughts that he doesn't see the cliff that gapes before his
feet.
Maddie closed her eyes, whispered her prayer to be shown what she needed to see, and laid out the
cards.
And sat back, disgusted and appalled. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]