Weaveworld
Clive Barker
Language: English
Pages: 672
ISBN: 0743417356
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Clive Barker has made his mark on modern fiction by exposing all that is surreal and magical in the ordinary world --- and exploring the profound and overwhelming terror that results. With its volatile mix of the fantastical and the contemporary, the everyday and the otherworldly, Weaveworld is an epic work of dark fantasy and horror -- a tour de force from one of today's most forceful and imaginative artists.
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several other letters awaiting him – one from his section leader at the firm, asking him where the hell he was, and stating that if he wished to keep his job he’d better make some explanation of his absence post haste. The letter was dated the 11th. It was now the 25th. Cal presumed he was out of a job. He couldn’t find it in him to be much concerned by unemployment; nor indeed by Geraldine’s absence. He wanted to be alone; wanted the time to think through all that had happened. More
it was, he couldn’t yet see. He was dimly aware that Shadwell was addressing him again, and that the tone of the Salesman’s voice had altered. There was some puzzlement in it now, tinged with exasperation. ‘Speak up, my friend … why don’t you tell me what you want?’ ‘I can’t … quite … see it.’ ‘Then try harder. Concentrate.’ Cal tried. The images came and went, all insignificant stuff. The mother-lode still evaded him. ‘You’re not trying,’ the Salesman chided. ‘If a man wants something
celibacy gave her access to powers lovers were denied: she had ways. Mimi would have to turn some final trick, or all would be lost. From the corner of her eye Mimi saw the Hag, the withered sister, hunched up beside the wall, her toothless maw wide. The Magdalene, Immacolata’s second sister, was occupying the visitor’s chair, her legs splayed. They were waiting for the fun to begin. Mimi opened her mouth, as if to speak. ‘Something to say?’ Immacolata asked. As the Incantatrix spoke Mimi
year 1961. On it, a photograph of a lion beneath a tree, its shaggy, monolithic head laid on vast paws, its gaze contemplative. Cal went out on to the landing again, selected another door, and was this time delivered into the right room. There, beyond the grimy glass, was the pigeon. Now it was all a question of tactics. He had to be careful not to startle the bird. He approached the window cautiously. On the sun-drenched sill 33 cocked its head, and blinked its eye, but made no move. Cal held
said, as though the sense of this was self-evident, ‘I know you’re the equal of it. You’re Mimi’s child.’ He leaned towards her, and kissed her. ‘You have her look,’ he said, his hand trembling against her cheek. She suddenly sensed that his touch was more than friendly; and that she felt something undeniable towards him: something inappropriate between her and her grandmother’s husband. They both stepped back from the touch, startled by their feelings. He began to walk towards the door, his
