Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 47 — page 118: what you’re looking at

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

Maybe Freud was right. Perhaps the subconscious can make us forget little things like posting letters—and buying petrol... THE BRIDGE ‘Ut AGAIN!” thought Mr. Trinter morosely. “I al- . ways oversieep after that damned dream!” Pale-faced, he stared round the dingy dining room. He sat at table, at the one place where orderliness was unimpaired by gastronomical activity. He poured milk on his cereals. Ate withoutrelish. Then a maid entered. carrying a tray, and he looked up, sheepishly, and down again. “Morning, Mary.” “There you are, Mr. Trin- ter—at last!’ Mary glowed good-humouredly, bringing the late arrival a cup of tea. “Thought you’d never come down. Was it——-?”’ Her eyes questioned Mr. Trinter’s bowed head. He pushed the empty plate away. Nodded. ‘“‘Unbearably real, too!” he shuddered. “Ugh. .!” “It beats me!’’ Laughing, 117 by LEN SHAW she brought the egg. ““You live so quietly, yet you have that nightmare. While I——” “D’you dream ?” ““Of course.” “Often ?” “Every night. Regular as clockwork.” *“What about?” “Well, really, Mr. Trinter!”’ Blushing, Mary began collect- ing dishes. “I don’t think I ought to tell you. Besides,” she looked warily at the door, “IT mustn’t waste time talking to the lodgers—according to Mrs. Skipson.”’ She tossed her head. “But what the eye doesn’t see——”’ ““__the heart doesn’t grieve over, eh?’ Mr. Trinter chuckled, brightening. ““These dreams,” he resumed, intently —_| “No Peo decapitating his egg. prying, but—are they pleasant?” “Mmm!” conniclooolks.Ccoma) !