Зима тревоги нашей

           OnThursday,thethirtiethofJune,Iawakenedasusualintheblackpearllightofthedawn,andthatwasearlynowinthelapofmidsummer.Chairandbureauweredarkblobsandpicturesonlylightersuggestions.Thewhitewindowcurtainsseemedtosighinandoutasthoughtheybreathed,becauseit’sararedawnthatdoesnotwaveasmallwindovertheland.

           Comingoutofsleep,Ihadtheadvantageoftwoworlds,thelayeredfirmamentofdreamandthetemporalfixturesofthemindawake.Istretchedluxuriously—agoodandtinglingsensation.It’sasthoughtheskinhasshrunkinthenightandonemustpushitouttodaytimesizebybulgingthemuscles,andthere’sanitchingpleasureinit.

           FirstIreferredtomyremembereddreamsasIwouldglancethroughanewspapertoseeiftherewasanythingofinterestorimport.ThenIexploredthecomingdayforeventsthathadnothappened.NextIfollowedapracticelearnedfromthebestofficerIeverhad.HewasCharleyEdwards,amajorofmiddlingage,perhapsalittletoofaralongtobeacombatofficerbuthewasagoodone.Hehadalargefamily,aprettywifeandfourchildreninsteps,andhisheartcouldachewithloveandlongingforthemifhealloweditto.Hetoldmeaboutit.Inhisdeadlybusinesshecouldnotaffordtohavehisattentionwarpedandsplitbylove,andsohehadarrivedatamethod.Inthemorning,thatisifhewerenotjerkedfromsleepbyanalert,heopenedhismindandhearttohisfamily.