Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Claude Monet Chrysanthemums

Claude Monet ChrysanthemumsClaude Monet Camille Monet in the GardenClaude Monet Blue Water Lilies
back to my room and who would ever know?
I would .
. . . forward nine paces, and right one pace, and forward nineteen paces, and left two paces . . .
There was a light ahead. Not the occasional white glow of moonlight from the slits in the roof, but yel­low lamplight, dimming and brightening as its owner came nearer.
"Someone's coming," he whispered. "It must be one of the guides!"
Vorbis had Trembling, Brutha obeyed. He felt the soft flesh of an outflung arm under his sandal for a moment.
The pit, he thought. Look into Vorbis's eyes, and there's the pit. And I'm in it with him.
I've got to remember about fundamental truth.vanished.Brutha hovered uncertainly in the passageway as the light bobbed nearer.An elderly voice said, "That you, Number Four?"The light came round a corner. It half-illuminated an old man, who walked up to Brutha and raised the candle to his face."Where's Number Four?" he said, peering around Brutha.A figure appeared behind the man, from out of a side­passage. Brutha had the briefest glimpse of Vorbis, his face strangely peaceful, as he gripped the head of his staff, twisted and pulled. Sharp metal glittered for a moment in the candlelight.Then the light went out.Vorbis's voice said, "Take the lead again."

No comments: