Tours of the Black Clock (Steve Erickson) читать бесплатно онлайн полную версию книги

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I WORK DAY AND night. The shores of her womb are lit with fiery torches. Sometimes I fall asleep in the middle of what I’m doing, wake to find the sludge cooling in my hands, waiting to be fed to the larva. At times the whole universe of her hurls itself into upheaval, in rebellion. The larva grows. I can already see the thing moving, ready to live. In the day, when I go to see the old man and Petyr, I can’t quite get the black of the work off my hands; yet it seems that only I can smell it. Winter passes into spring, which passes into early summer. Giorgio comes up through my floor with food, I’m ashamed to take it with my black fingers.