September 2009
18 posts
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By Mind Alone Larry Niven, first published in If: Worlds of Science Fiction, June, 1966.
part 7
So we edged the car out from among the other cars and took off down the twisting concrete road that leads a mile down to the base of the mountains. We all had our cars, because none of us but Pat would have known where to teleport to. It was a silent drive until we got the cigarettes. They seemed...
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Watchetherealcereal:
Driving Music:
by Carl Robinson
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alexdrum:
“Circle Square” - 2008
Here’s...
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Peaches
A mouthful of language to swallow: stretches of beach, sweet clinches, breaches in walls, bleached branches; britches hauled over haunches; hunches leeches, wrenched teachers. What English can do: ransack the warmth that chuckles beneath fuzzed surfaces, smooth velvet richness, splashy juices. I beseech you, peach, clench me into the sweetness of your reaches.
— Peter Davison.
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The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock (excerpt)
I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back...
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By Mind Alone Larry Niven, first published in If: Worlds of Science Fiction, June, 1966.
part 6
We got the story out of him. Pat’s parents had been watching television when they’d heard a scream from the next room. They’d rushed in to find Pat on the floor, already unconscious, with a blazing fever. The doctor was there now. “I’m going after her,” said Lou...
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The Lonely Street
School is over. It is too hot to walk at ease. At ease in light frocks they walk the streets to while the time away. They have grown tall. They hold pink flames in their right hands. In white from head to foot, with sidelong, idle looks— in yellow, floating stuff, black sash and stockings— touching their avid mouths with pink sugar on a stick— like a carnation each holds in her...
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123
At the night prayer, when the sun declines to sinking, this
way of the senses is closed and the way to the Unseen is opened.
The angel of sleep then drives forward the spirits, even as the
shepherd who watches over his flock.
To the placeless, towards the spiritual meadows, what cities
and what gardens he there displays to them!
The spirit beholds a thousand marvellous...
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By Mind Alone Larry Niven, first published in If: Worlds of Science Fiction, June, 1966.
part 5
I got my drink replenished and reached for a cigarette to occupy my other hand. I was out, and Pat wasn’t back yet. Nuts. I joined Larsen again. Shouldering my way into the group that surrounded him.
His eyes lit. “Art, have you thought of an experiment for us?”
I hadn’t,...