Читать книгу Memories are Murder - Lou Allin - Страница 5

The all-seeing lens of the sun was scorching and the blue sky so merciless that it made him dizzy. As he wiped sweat from his reddening brow, the warble of a swooping raven brought a smile to his face, and scarcely had he turned to follow the graceful wings than a stunning blow sent the world into such clarity that he gasped. There was no pain. Everything sped by like a silent film gone mad. A dizzying fall into the still mirror of the lake, the rush of the water meeting him like a merging twin. Bubbles blossomed from his mouth as he began to sink, his arms broken wings. The last thing he remembered was a tune from his youth. “I saw a man with his head bowed low./ His heart had no place to go./ I looked and I thought to myself with a sigh:/ There but for you . . .” As the words died in his mind, he blinked through the shadows to the light. And the raven flew on.