Number 9 Dream by David Mitchell

Author:David Mitchell [Mitchell, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, English
Publisher: Sceptre
Published: 2001-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Pithecanthropus read the ground with his brow furrowed. An anvil cloud lugged past its sluggish mass. The tracks led off the beaten track, down the path not taken, through a sleepy hollow, over a tarn of brackish bilgewater. Mrs Comb caught sight of him first. ‘Whatever next by ’eck!’ A scarecrow, nailed to a ‘T’, staked into the lip of a dyke, in a sorry state. His eyes and ears were pecked away, and wispy hay bled from a wound in his side whenever the wind bothered to blow. Goatwriter approached him. ‘Ahem. Good day, Scarecrow.’

Scarecrow raised his head, slower than moons over mown meadows.

‘Frightfully sorry to trouble you,’ began Goatwriter, ‘but have you seen a dirty little rat scurry by carrying pages of a stolen manuscript?’

Scarecrow’s mouth twitched more slowly than violence of violets. ‘This day . . .’

‘Splendid!’ said Goatwriter. ‘Can you tell me which way the thief went?’

‘This day . . . we shall sit with my father in Paradise . . .’

At that very moment, two hellhounds hurdled the dyke, sank their slavering fangs into poor Scarecrow, ripped him off his T, and savaged him to windblown tatters. Goatwriter was knocked backward by a lashing paw. Pithecanthropus leaped and swept Mrs Comb into his arms. All that remained of the scarecrow were rags nailed to the wood. Goatwriter tried to recall what to do and what not to do with rabid dogs – play dead? Look them in the eye? Run like billy-oh?

‘That’ll learn ’im,’ growled the top dog, ‘to give the plot away!’

‘Wot shall us do with these three, boss?’ sniffed the underdog.

Goatwriter felt the heat of their breath. ‘Good doggies.’

‘Ee talks like a writer,’ growled the underdog. ‘Smells like one. Is one.’

‘Ain’t got the time,’ the top dog barked. ‘Our maker is getting away!’

‘I want to practise on Beardy first!’

Pithecanthropus got ready to defend his friend, but the hellhounds bounded away over the rises and falls of the margins until they were blots on the wizened horizon. ‘Well!’ exclaimed Mrs Comb. Then she realized she was still nesting in the arms of Pithecanthropus. ‘Put me down this very instant, you mucky lout!’

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.