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Fantasy Fictioneer, v. 1, issue 2, January-February 1940
Page 10
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Mr. Ackerman in long flowing green sating cape and was most provoking....we all wanted one....please daddy....no use. He had the most engaging smile and spouted Esperante to enchantment. Tell me, Mr. Ackerman, do all Californians wear gree [green] capes and spout Esperanto?....and do you take your two weeks vacation on Mars? Morojo seemed to bear out that wishful thinking..... In a fetching red satin outfit futuristically abbreviated (How abbreviated? -editor) We are not a fashion united but we bet the overwhelming masculine attendance would like a report that the future is not far away. Then there was Sykora flapping his hands in the general direction of the drapes behind him, extending cordial greetings to the backdrop, the ceiling and clutching his adam's apple, and he does have one, spasmodically. He has the most compelling eye, my hear, HE SIMPLY THRILLS YOU....little shivers ran up and down my spine....He has Power. Then there was Moskowitz...hands behind in the most diplomatic fashion eyes something with excess interest as far away as possible...and saying....no no no NO NONONONO...He'll get somewhere with that persistence, that lad will. Oh Moskowitz, 23 skiddo...You, hay you kid...gosh, he's gone again...most elusive little devil (and just at the moment when he was supposed to prove his point...ah, well, what can one expect.....) And Taruasi...an there is a little political potentiality indeed...The way that man can siddle [sidle] up and down aisles in the pursuit of trouble....I tell you my dear he's AWESOME. He's t---, dark and so h-----. Mr. Taruasi how about a date in a nice little dark alley? I'll bring my big brother, you bring the boys....(please don't whistle in that dark alley. I should be so disillusioned.) that's all for now...... SKULL-VOICE by DALE WILKINSON He picked up the skull of the ancient man; He held the thing in the palm of his hand; He looked at the holes that once were eyes; Then stepped he back and swore in surprise. From the darkest depths of the holes there came The whispered syllables of an unknown name. From sockets designed to shed woeful tears Dropped each one like a stone on his ears. Next spake the voice of creatures gone before, Filling his mind with their ancient lore. It spake of a world and a life not come; It spake of all wisdom and learning's sum. From the deepest depths of the oldritch skull Came these words, with a pause and a lull. Of those spake the voice in orbless skull, As it flew away on the wings of a gull.
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Mr. Ackerman in long flowing green sating cape and was most provoking....we all wanted one....please daddy....no use. He had the most engaging smile and spouted Esperante to enchantment. Tell me, Mr. Ackerman, do all Californians wear gree [green] capes and spout Esperanto?....and do you take your two weeks vacation on Mars? Morojo seemed to bear out that wishful thinking..... In a fetching red satin outfit futuristically abbreviated (How abbreviated? -editor) We are not a fashion united but we bet the overwhelming masculine attendance would like a report that the future is not far away. Then there was Sykora flapping his hands in the general direction of the drapes behind him, extending cordial greetings to the backdrop, the ceiling and clutching his adam's apple, and he does have one, spasmodically. He has the most compelling eye, my hear, HE SIMPLY THRILLS YOU....little shivers ran up and down my spine....He has Power. Then there was Moskowitz...hands behind in the most diplomatic fashion eyes something with excess interest as far away as possible...and saying....no no no NO NONONONO...He'll get somewhere with that persistence, that lad will. Oh Moskowitz, 23 skiddo...You, hay you kid...gosh, he's gone again...most elusive little devil (and just at the moment when he was supposed to prove his point...ah, well, what can one expect.....) And Taruasi...an there is a little political potentiality indeed...The way that man can siddle [sidle] up and down aisles in the pursuit of trouble....I tell you my dear he's AWESOME. He's t---, dark and so h-----. Mr. Taruasi how about a date in a nice little dark alley? I'll bring my big brother, you bring the boys....(please don't whistle in that dark alley. I should be so disillusioned.) that's all for now...... SKULL-VOICE by DALE WILKINSON He picked up the skull of the ancient man; He held the thing in the palm of his hand; He looked at the holes that once were eyes; Then stepped he back and swore in surprise. From the darkest depths of the holes there came The whispered syllables of an unknown name. From sockets designed to shed woeful tears Dropped each one like a stone on his ears. Next spake the voice of creatures gone before, Filling his mind with their ancient lore. It spake of a world and a life not come; It spake of all wisdom and learning's sum. From the deepest depths of the oldritch skull Came these words, with a pause and a lull. Of those spake the voice in orbless skull, As it flew away on the wings of a gull.
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