John William Waterhouse The Magic CircleJohn William Waterhouse PandoraJohn William Waterhouse Lamia
'Heights I don't mind,' said Rincewind's voice from the darkness. 'Heights I can live with. It's depths that are occupying my attention at the moment. Do you know what I'm going to do when we get out of this?'
'No?' saidwas about to say something like, 'Yes, I've got this itch on the back of my neck, you couldn't scratch it, could you, on your way past?' or 'No, I enjoy hanging over bottomless drops' and he decided he couldn't possibly face that. He spoke very quickly.
'Pull Rincewind back onto the stairs,' he snapped. Rincewind deflated in mid-snarl.
Cohen caught him around the waist and jerked him unceremoniously onto the stones. Twoflower, wedging his toes into a gap in the flagstones and trying to make himself immobile by sheer force of will.'I'm going to build a house in the flattest country I can find and it's only going to have a ground floor and I'm not even going to wear sandals with thick soles —'The leading torch came around the last turn of the spiral and Twoflower looked down on the grinning face of Cohen. Behind him, still hopping awkwardly up the stones, he could make out the reassuring bulk of the Luggage.'Everything all right?' said Cohen. 'Can I do anything?'Rincewind took a deep breath.Twoflower recognised the signs. Rincewind
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment