"John F. Rosmann - The Mind Masters 03 - The Door" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rosmann John F)

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THEmmM S E S#
AT R 3
 Te or
hD o
by
J h FR smn
o n . os a n




A SIGNET BOOK M E W A M E R I C A N L I B R A R Y
TIMES MIRROR
copyright © 1975 by john F. rossmann All rights reserved




SIGNET TRADEMARK REQ. tr.9. PAT. OFF. AfrD FOREIGN COBNTKIH9
REGISTERED TRADEMARK MAHOA REGI8THADA
HECHO EN CHICAGO, U.S.A.

signet, signet classics, mentor, .plume and meridian books
are published by The New American Library, Inc., 1301 Avenue of the Americas, New York, N.Y. 10019,
first printing, november, 1975 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA




1
.. . high . . . bodiless . . . drifting inland ... we slowly slide down across Britain's somber southern seacoast . . .
London's lights are now flickering far below in this evening's early glow ... headlights streak the darkening streets like
tiny shooting stars as Trafalgar Square fills with a smelly, swelling crush of commuter cars . .. above it, we are
drifting on again—like smoke ... suburban shop bells below ting a final time and fade into silence as the doors are
locked against gathering shadows of this dying day . . . soaring high again, we waft westward, as if linked somehow to
the slowly sinking sun, who casts growing shadows on the summer-green fields gliding silently beneath ... now, below
appears England's West Country ... the vast, flat, formless plains of Salisbury's misty marshy moor and the Avon River
that drains this heart of ancient Arthurian England ... no trees cast long shadows here on this gently rolling rug of
green, decaying, deserted desolation . . . no trees ... no bushes—only the monolith monuments left by the long-dead
druids stand up against this flood of fading sunlight and split its smooth gold flow with sharp black shadows: these
are the strange silent slabs of Stonehenge, standing circled like stoic sentinels who await the start of an ancient mystic
ceremony.
The sun is sinking farther, faster, filling the streets of old Salisbury with a flood of dusty dusk. Alone ... all alone
this small city stands here on the edge of the mysterious moon-scape of the moors. And tonight ... tonight Salisbury's