Can't make up this stuff.
Don't bother trying to furrow your monkey-brow, dim-wit dullards. You'll never understand.
The Twelve: A Novel (Book Two of the Passage Trilogy) [2012]
Justin Cronin
Page 481 of 593 (Amazon Kindle Version)
Guilder. It's time.
Guilder, rise.
But Guilder did not hear these words. Director Horace Guilder was asleep and dreaming - a terrible, oft-repeated dream in which he was in the convalescent center, smothering his father with a pillow. Contrary to history, this did not proceed without a struggle. His father thrashed and flailed, his hands clawing at the air, fighting to break free as he issued muffled cries for mercy. Only when his resistance ceased, and Guilder removed the pillow from his face, did Guilder see his error. It wasn't his father he had killed, but Shawna. Oh, God, no! Then Shawna's eyes popped open; she began to laugh. She laughed so hard that tears came to her eyes. Stop laughing! he yelled. Stop laughing at me! Guilder, she said, you're so funny. You should see the look on your face. You and your crappy bracelet.
The Twelve: A Novel (Book Two of the Passage Trilogy) [2012]
Justin Cronin
Page 481 of 593 (Amazon Kindle Version)
"Suresh!"
The sound of his pounding caromed down the empty hallway.
"Suresh, wake up!"
The door to Suresh's quarters opened to reveal his new chief of staff's sleepy, bronze-colored face. He was wearing a puffy white bathrobe and slippers, blinking like a bear exiting a cave.
"Cripes, Horace, you don't have to yell." He yawned into his fist. "What time is it?"
"Who cares what time it is? They're *here*."
Suresh startled. "Right now, you mean?"
The Twelve: A Novel (Book Two of the Passage Trilogy) [2012]
Justin Cronin
Page 483 of 593 (Amazon Kindle Version)
The voice in his head was silent. A profound stillness encased him like the anticipatory stillness before a storm. They would be coming from the west. He waited.
Then:
The first one appeared, then another and another, eleven points of glowing phosphorescence spaced at equal intervals on the horizon. The gaps between them narrowed as they neared, like the lights of a giant aircraft approaching.
Come to me, Guilder thought. Come to me.
Details began to emerge. Not so much to emerge as to enlarge. One was smaller than the rest - that would be Carter, of course, he thought; the unknowable, anomalous Anthony Carter - but the others took his breath away. In their powerful forms and graceful movements and absolute mastery of themselves they seemed to shrink the space around them, to bend dimensions, to rewrite the course of time. They flowed toward him like a glowing river, bathing him in the light of their majestic horror.
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posted by H.V.O.M - Kerry Wayne Burgess 5:15 PM Pacific Time Spokane Valley Washington USA Monday 14 November 2016 - http://hvom.blogspot.com/2016/11/office-of-president-idiots.html
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/12144079/Gun-salute-marks-anniversary-of-Queens-accession-to-the-throne.html
The Telegraph
Gun salute marks anniversary of Queen's accession to the throne
- posted by Kerry Burgess 3:53 PM Pacific Time Spokane Valley Washington USA Monday 05 November 2018
