"Barry Longyear - Dark Corners" - читать интересную книгу автора (Longyear Barry)

It was coming.

The horror was coming, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

In a panic I moved to the door and made certain it was latched and locked. That taken care of, I
examined the door. It was paneled, painted white, and very old. One panel was visibly loose, and I could
see how loose the hinge on the top was. The door didn’t look sturdy enough to withstand any kind of
onslaught, and the thing that was after me would come like an avalanche.

I moved a heavy dresser in front of the door. I pushed a foot locker in front of the dresser, and then
began piling chairs, bookshelves, and anything I could carry and put it on top of the dresser and
footlocker. At last, with everything in the room in front of the door, I allowed myself a breath.

I stood there, still shaking, and braced myself against the furniture, thinking that I might have a chance. It
couldn’t get through everything I had piled against the door. Even if it could, I would be going down
fighting, not curled up in a corner whimpering.

My breathing slowed and my heart ceased its wretched pounding. Whatever it was out there, I was safe
behind the fort I had constructed.

And then

I looked

ever so slowly

to my left

and saw

one entire wall of the room was missing!

The room was open to the hallway!

I screamed.

I heard it coming for me, and I screamed.

I backed away from the enormous opening, clawed at the wall behind me, and screamed, and screamed,
and screamed until my wife shook me awake.




A dream.

Messages from what Carl Jung called the great guide, friend, and adviser: the unconscious. Grist for the
story mill, as I had told the attendees of countless writer’s workshops. Still, as I lay there in the dark,
waiting for my heart to calm, the dream seemed more message than grist. It was two in the morning and I