Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 46 — page 93: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION —out of the corner of your eye—in all directions. By screwing my eyeballs round almost to my ears, I was able to pin it down and decided that it was heat haze holding close to the ground. Then the sun took time out behind a cloud and I decided that it wasn’t, for it grew more distinct and I was able to trace it along the ground almost to my feet, running locally at just above pavement level, fillingtheroadwayand... For a science fiction fan I was a disgrace to my publish- ers. Invisible, inaudible, walk- throughable—it stuck out a mile what the streak was. Earth, ground or whatever you like to call it. Seems like I’d got myself a transfer altogether, even hav- ing my own soil to walk on. I did a quick check up with my feet. As I thought, I was poised half an inch above the normal pavement. Looking straight down, my ground was invisible, though it felt solid enough. Presumably I’d been a little above ground level all the time, but in my be- mused condition I wouldn’t have noticed a mere half inch or so. I wondered if my earth followed the contours of the one outside, because if it 92 I should have to very didn’t, “gang warily” warily. The scene changes to High Street, Kensington. I was on my way to Shepherds Bush, and had got this far without anything extraordinary hap- pening, my ground behaving reasonably well, so that I was - seldom more than a couple of feet either above or below the outside ground level— until I reached Kensington Church Street, which is a hill. My normal route to my digs was along said Church Street, but as my ground seemed determined to keep its own level I was faced with the choice of either going through the hill or round it. I got nearly neck deep, then lost my nerve and beat it back to the leveller High Street. It was a darned sight farther, going via Hammer- smith Broadway, but it was flatter—I hoped. I was in no hurry, however, as I wouldn’t be meeting the redhead until six o’clock, and according to the public clocks in the vicinity, the time was something between 1.50 and 2.05. So I took it easy, smoking and watching the “walk-throughables” going by comiclbooks.conn