The weatherman was always right: Temperature, 59; humidity, 47%; occasional light showers—but of what?
It was the awfullest dream in the world, no doubt about it. In fact, it seemed to be the only dream there was!
A lean wind wails through the age-old avenues of Dawningsburgh.
Mornings, it brings sand from surrounding hills and scrubs at fresh paint, neon signs endlessly proclaiming the city’s synthetic name and street markers in seven languages.
At sunrise it prepares the dunes for footprints of scurrying guided tourists.
When icy night clamps down and the intruders scamper to their hotels, the wind howls as it flings after them a day’s collection of paper cups, bottle caps and other picnic offal.
They were such cute synthetic creatures, it was impossible not to love them. Of course, that was precisely why they were dangerous!
Certainly I see things that aren’t there and don’t say what my voice says—but how can I prove that I don’t have my health?
A gripping tale of the planet Mars and the terrible monstrosity that called its victims to it from afar—a tale of Northwest Smith.
A story of the shocking revelation that came to the twenty-first Baron Kralitz.