Somatoys

Начало книги

The hermit Berner climbed up to his shrine, as he did every morning at sunrise. The sun’s hurtful glare rose swiftly above the surrounding mountains. By the time Berner reached the top of the hill, harsh light filled his valley. The shrine was a bronze statue– a naked woman, life-size. She lay back on a gray boulder, legs spread, hands laced comfortably behind her head, smiling up at the sky. Sharp little knives tipped her small breasts.

«From death into life, from life into death; the same door,» he prayed, so quickly that the familiar words ran together. He lay his forehead against the smooth belly of the shrine, still cold from the desert night. Soon the shrine would be too hot to touch, which was why he performed his devotions at dawn.

He rolled his cheek against the metal, trying to remember how it felt to touch a real woman. Nothing but a sort of abstract revulsion came to him, mixed strangely with a tenuous longing. «You’ve been here too long, too long, too long,» he told himself, as he did every morning. It was as much a part of the ritual as his prayers.

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