By Walter M. Miller
Walter M. Miller Jr is healthier remembered because the writer of A Canticle for Leibowitz, universally well-known as one of many maximum novels of contemporary SF. yet in addition to writing that deeply felt and eloquent ebook, he produced many shorter works of fiction of wonderful originality and tool. His profound curiosity in faith and his innate literary presents mixed completely within the creation of such works because the Darfstellar, for which he gained a Hugo in 1955, Conditionally Human, I, Dreamer and the massive starvation, all of that are integrated during this awesome and crucial assortment.
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But he had taken my flashlight. Outside, beneath a dim, cloud-threatened moon, I stood at the hedge, staring out across the meadow toward the woods. The night was full of crickets and rustlings in the grass. I saw no sign of him. " He answered me faintly from the distance. "Don't try to follow me, Dad. " I vaulted the fence and trotted across the meadow toward the woods. At the stone fence, I paused to listen—but there were only crickets. Maybe he'd seen me coming in the moonlight, and had headed back toward the creek.
I let him get it out be-tore I called ... " He froze, then came up very slowly to a crouch, ready to flee. He turned out the flashlight. "Kenny, don't run away from me again. Stay there. " No answer. " He called back then, with a quaver in his voice. "Stay where you are, Dad—and let me finish. Then I'll go with you. " He flashed the light toward me, saw that I was a good twenty yards away. " "Okay," I agreed, "but don't take long. " He set the light on a rock, kept it aimed at me, and worked by its aura.
Faint moonlight seeped through the pine branches from the east, and there was a light mist over the land. The air had chilled, and she shivered as she arose to stretch, propping the gun across the rotten log. She waited for Doodie's cries to cease. The cries continued, unabated. Stiffening with sudden apprehension, she started hack toward the shack. Then she saw it—a faint violet glow through the trees to the north, just past the corner of the hen house! She stopped again, tense with fright. Doodie's cries were becoming meaningful.