Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 53 — page 102: what you’re looking at

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

PLAYING WITH TIME said. “Half past ten, and if my watch says half past ten, you can bet Caernarfon Castle 1 TS ie And then it had happened. The day had suddenly faltered ; and David had felt himself flickering. The flickering had been agony, alternating through every pore and sinew of his body. He had been all pain; not a convulsive or a cramping pain; more than that—a pain that stretched him; a pain that made him reach out like a stuck insect. As suddenly as it had started it ended, and David, without pain, had been stilled. For a moment he had stood in the brittleness of agony arrested. Then he had ventured to open his eyes, and had seen the Being; the Being who had sat where Plynlimon had been; the Being whose belly had sagged like a mainsail in light airs; but whose head, as big as his body, had been hard and hairless and bony. Because David was a Welshman, he had taken refuge from his terror in words. “Good morning,” he had said. “Good morning, and where are you from, may I ask?” ““Not where am I from,” the Being answered. ‘But when am I from.” His voice had been strangely at variance with his appearance; a thin, reedy sound, incredibly clear; its precise syllables had seemed to issue from between the Being’s thick lips like bubbles rising from treacle: “And when are you from?” David, in his terror and amazement, had turned his thoughts again to Lloyd, whose company had so often sus- tained him, and thinking of Lloyd, he had replied: “I am from the time of torment.” *“*A good answer,”’ the Being had answered, but he had at that moment seemed some- how pre-occupied. David had felt himself pulsating. “I am afraid,” said the Being, “‘I am afraid I have to make some adjustments; I must switch you off.” And David had found him- self again facing the shepherd, and he had heard his own voice continuing: . toa china orange that +half-past ten it is.’ “Thanks,” the shepherd had muttered, and had hurried away with, David had felt, a quizzical look in his eyes. And, strangely enough, half past ten it still had been. David had told none of his adventure, but every morning 101 commicloooks.conm