Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 41 — page 48: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

FLY BY NIGHT He was dreaming the old dream again. He was lying asleep, suspended in the air against the ceiling of hisroom. A senseless dream, William Newton murmured drowsily, yet one not without humour. Like those fantastic stories he wrote for a living. Suddenly he opened his eyes. He was lying against the ceiling. Below him was the floor, ten feet away, and his empty bed. Next to his hand was the light fixture and drop cord. That stirred and swung softly in the night breeze. He was not dreaming... or . was he? He laughed and giggled at the seeming reality, for this was such a vivid dream. Suddenly he shivered as cold fact struck him. This was real! He began to scream. “Get me down, get me down, help, help!”’ He clung to the ceiling, scrabbling at it with his finger- nails, raving and wheezing and threshing wildly about. “Tl fall, Pil fall!” Doors banged open. Feet ran outside in the hall. Someone hammered on his 47 door. ““Mr. Newton! Are you all right?” “Come in, come in, help!” cried William Edward New- ton... and fell. He struck the bed and the bed gave way with a thunder of broken springs and splintered wood. The impact knocked the wind from him and pushed the clock off onto the floor, where it took up ringing loudly, while the door opened, and the landlady rushed in, followed by others of the house. “Mr. Newton, Mr. Newton!”’ “Oh, God, God,” cried Newton, weakly. “I’m safe, I’m safe. On the ceiling, I was lying on the ceiling.” “You were dreaming.” “No, no, I fell. The bed, you see? I broke it. I fell from the ceiling and I broke my bed.” “You jumped around in it while dreaming, that’s all. You'll be all right. But you’ll pay for fixing the bed.” Laughing, talking, jeering, the people withdrew and the door was shut and he lay on the broken bed, deeply suffused comiclooks.comn