large/506/short_stories_009_64kb_mp3/love_of_life_london_jwt_64kb_103
large/506/short_stories_009_64kb_mp3/love_of_life_london_jwt_64kb
English
506
He did not hear the breath, and he slipped slowly from some dream to the feel of the tongue along his hand. HE DID NOT HEAR THE BREATH AND HE SLIPPED SLOWLY FROM SOME DREAM TO THE FEEL OF THE TONGUE ALONG HIS HAND
of soul, he would find another shred of will and strike out more strongly. Without movement he lay on his back, and he could hear, slowly drawing near and nearer, the wheezing intake and output of the sick wolf's breath. It drew closer, ever closer, through an infinitude of time, and he did not move. It was at his ear. The harsh dry tongue grated like sandpaper against his cheek. His hands shot out--or at least he willed them to shoot out. The fingers were curved like talons, but they closed on empty air. Swiftness and certitude require strength, and the man had not this strength. The patience of the wolf was terrible. The man's patience was no less terrible. For half a day he lay motionless, fighting off unconsciousness and waiting for the thing that was to feed upon him and upon which he wished to feed. Sometimes the languid sea rose over him and he dreamed long dreams; but ever through it all, waking and dreaming, he waited for the wheezing breath and the harsh caress of the tongue. OME STRANGE ALCHEMY OF THE SOUL HE WOULD FIND ANOTHER SHRED OF WILL AND STRIKE OUT MORE STRONGLY WITHOUT MOVEMENT HE LAY ON HIS BACK AND HE COULD HEAR SLOWLY DRAWING NEARER AND NEARER THE WHEEZING INTAKE AND OUTPUT OF THE SICK WOLF'S BREATH IT DREW CLOSER EVER CLOSER THROUGH AN INFINITUDE OF TIME AND HE DID NOT MOVE IT WAS AT HIS EAR THE HARSH DRY TONGUE GRATED LIKE SAND PAPER AGAINST HIS CHEEK HIS HAND SHOT OUT OR AT LEAST HE WILLED THEM TO SHOOT OUT THE FINGERS WERE CURVED LIKE TALONS BUT THEY CLOSED ON EMPTY AIR SWIFTNESS AND CERTITUDE REQUIRE STRENGTH AND THE MAN HAD NOT THIS STRENGTH THE PATIENCE OF THE WOLF WAS TERRIBLE THE MAN'S PATIENCE WAS NO LESS TERRIBLE FOR HALF A DAY HE LAY MOTIONLESS FIGHTING OFF UNCONSCIOUSNESS AND WAITING FOR THE THING THAT WAS TO FEED UPON HIM AND UPON WHICH HE WISHED TO FEED SOMETIMES THE LANGUID SEA ROSE OVER HIM AND HE DREAMED LONG DREAMS BUT EVER THROUGH IT ALL WAKING AND DREAMING HE WAITED FOR THE WHEEZING BREATH AND THE HARSH CARESS OF THE TONGUE
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