(Untitled)

[mjeidija]

Sir Terry Pratchett awakens. A skeleton stands at his bedside, wearing a long black robe. He sits up. “Well, hang on, let me get my hat,” he tells it.

The skeleton reaches into its robe. From abyssal depths it produces a heavy book bound in sheets of lead and night. It is the kind of book that gets stolen by a rugged adventurer from a temple with

Comments

[colonel_fawcett]

это так прекрасно, что я даже утащила к себе и перевела
спасибо!

[mjeidija]

О, спасибо! Это очень здорово!