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Polaris, v. 1, issue 1, December 1939
11
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11 THE ORGAN by Duane W Rimel I had been bedridden for many months--months of agonizing pain and and fever and abnormal dreams of rolling, twisting spheres accompanied by the ponderous grinding of mighty wheels. Then followed a wearisome period of convalescence which was equally difficult to endure, since my strength hardly enabled me to turn over in bed. And through it all, one thought was predominant -- that of seeing Diane once more; for she, too, had become ill before I had been confined to my bed, and was, they said, in worse condition than I. But my attendants would not tell me the nature of her affliction, always shunning the question, or whispering among themselves whenever I mentioned it. So all the while I had been denied a glimpse of her lovely face, and the determination to cut short my period of recovery steadily grew to the proportions of an overwhelming obsession. This morning, very early, and before and one was about, I awoke with the resolve to arise and see Diane; but when I stood on my feet, a dark giddiness swept over me, and the couch on which I had lain for so long reeled before my eyes. Certain things about the room seemed further down than before, as if by chance I had grown in stature during my sickness. Upon taking the first feeble step; the terrible weakness of my condition once more asserted itself, and I was forced to grasp the back of a chair for support. But no one had heard my movements. Drawing on my clothes very quietly, I stood again; the second time with more assurance and success. The doctor had warned against any violent exercise or excitement, so I went silently from the room, taking care not to arouse the household, and came, finally, to the front door. A new strength course through me then, and I stepped upon the porch with more confidence than before, my purpose of seeing Diane urging me on with irresistible and compelling force. At that early hour no one was upon the streets, while a heavy fog enveloped many of the poignantly familiar scenes which had been denied me so long. The same dirty gray sidewalk ran past the house, and the old lilac bush by the corner stood bare and lifeless, a sentinel of despair. The front gate was torn completely away, whereas it had previously hung by one rusty hinge. When I passed by the breach, I realized, with a start, that today was the Sabbath, and in a few house people would be going by on their way to church. I knew then that I must hurry to Diane's abode before many were about, for my appearance on the street might have shocked them; my body having become greatly emaciated through the fever and my face being totally devoid of colour. The fog, despite its coldness and dampness, helped greatly in my trembling walk. Diane's house is not far away, and by resting at short intervals on steps and fence-railings, I managed to cover the distance in good time. How familiar the place looked! How many sweet memories the sight of it recalled to me! And yet it seemed that I had traveled an unusual distance through the mist, though surely it only appeared to be longer because of my weakened condition. As I approached her front door, the place looked barren and desolate, for I remembered very distinctly that there had once been a gener
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11 THE ORGAN by Duane W Rimel I had been bedridden for many months--months of agonizing pain and and fever and abnormal dreams of rolling, twisting spheres accompanied by the ponderous grinding of mighty wheels. Then followed a wearisome period of convalescence which was equally difficult to endure, since my strength hardly enabled me to turn over in bed. And through it all, one thought was predominant -- that of seeing Diane once more; for she, too, had become ill before I had been confined to my bed, and was, they said, in worse condition than I. But my attendants would not tell me the nature of her affliction, always shunning the question, or whispering among themselves whenever I mentioned it. So all the while I had been denied a glimpse of her lovely face, and the determination to cut short my period of recovery steadily grew to the proportions of an overwhelming obsession. This morning, very early, and before and one was about, I awoke with the resolve to arise and see Diane; but when I stood on my feet, a dark giddiness swept over me, and the couch on which I had lain for so long reeled before my eyes. Certain things about the room seemed further down than before, as if by chance I had grown in stature during my sickness. Upon taking the first feeble step; the terrible weakness of my condition once more asserted itself, and I was forced to grasp the back of a chair for support. But no one had heard my movements. Drawing on my clothes very quietly, I stood again; the second time with more assurance and success. The doctor had warned against any violent exercise or excitement, so I went silently from the room, taking care not to arouse the household, and came, finally, to the front door. A new strength course through me then, and I stepped upon the porch with more confidence than before, my purpose of seeing Diane urging me on with irresistible and compelling force. At that early hour no one was upon the streets, while a heavy fog enveloped many of the poignantly familiar scenes which had been denied me so long. The same dirty gray sidewalk ran past the house, and the old lilac bush by the corner stood bare and lifeless, a sentinel of despair. The front gate was torn completely away, whereas it had previously hung by one rusty hinge. When I passed by the breach, I realized, with a start, that today was the Sabbath, and in a few house people would be going by on their way to church. I knew then that I must hurry to Diane's abode before many were about, for my appearance on the street might have shocked them; my body having become greatly emaciated through the fever and my face being totally devoid of colour. The fog, despite its coldness and dampness, helped greatly in my trembling walk. Diane's house is not far away, and by resting at short intervals on steps and fence-railings, I managed to cover the distance in good time. How familiar the place looked! How many sweet memories the sight of it recalled to me! And yet it seemed that I had traveled an unusual distance through the mist, though surely it only appeared to be longer because of my weakened condition. As I approached her front door, the place looked barren and desolate, for I remembered very distinctly that there had once been a gener
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