Psithurism — T. M. Morgan

This story took me from Brahms, Berlioz and Bartok to the bathos of the Blue Danube Waltz. With special words for the soughing of wind in trees and for, of all things, face-blindness! Turn your face upside down, and see. Turn this story upside down, and see again. A prehensile, controlling house and interdicted rooms as well as the more welcoming room with your medicine, involving uncertain numbers, some numbers luckier than others, canoes and a lake and another person who gradually turns ugly. A found bracelet outside a room with a shut door, but that’s where I started. But at least things were clearer then, more amenable, more perfect, if perfect can be a comparative as well as a superlative, and the uncertain climax was still certain to come, uncertain whether I knew I was to be piled high in one of the rooms or there would be a different spoiler at the next time of reading the climax of this perfect disjunction of a story.

My review of this author’s APOCTATRYPTAMIN® —


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