Unformatted text preview: e through water. And then clea memories began to emerge, oh yes, of course, with only the familiarity that one's own memories can have, that I had gone down into the glei and drawn all the people together, and then the entire procession hac come into the Cathedral. The Cathedral was more beautiful than I hac ever beheld it in my life, hung with bows for the season, greener) everywhere, and I held the Christ Child. The singing was euphoric and the tears were sliding down my face. I am home, I am here. I lookec up at the great stained window of the saint. Yes. In the hands of Goc and the saint, I thought. I woke with a start. What memory was this? I knew that the place was Scotland. I knew it was Donnelaith. And I knew that it had to be centuries ago. And yet the memory had been mine, fresh and clear, and immediate as only memory can be. I rushed to my desk and scribbled it all down. Up came the fiend, weak and vague and without a form, his voice only a suggestion. "What are you doing, Julien?" "I might ask you the same thing!" I said. "Did you enjoy your romp?" "Yes, J...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10