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.So what? Did he reallybelieve that could possibly help him, did he really hope to end theinterminable cycle of his incarnations?I dream of fine black cinders borne by the wind, floating down to anoint tenthousand feverish brows.The sight of the tortured child, you see, has exertedan awful fascination upon people around the world.The first wave of imitators copied the murder exactly as portrayed by myslides.The second wave embellished and improvised.The current fashion is for live broadcasts, and the change of medium has, ofcourse, had some influence on the technical details of the act.I often sit in my study these days, just staring at the walls.Now and then Isuffer moments of blind panic, when I am convinced for no reason that Jack hasreturned, and is standing right behind me with his mouth stretched open.Butwhen I turn and look, I am always still alone.Alone with the headlines, alonewith the photographs, alone with my obsession.And that, somehow, is far morefrightening.Copyright © Greg Egan, 1988.All rights reserved.First published in Interzone #23, Spring 1988.Revised Wednesday, 16 May 2001 [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]