Avon Fantasy Reader No. 9 — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

and far away. Gradually they increased in intensity and once more she was able to discriminate, to recognize individual intonations. Timidly, hesitantly, the figures re-emerged. Each night they grew stronger. Avis Long (little girl with big round eyes in big bed below round window) welcomed their presence. She wasn’t alone any more. No. need to see her friends, or talk to that silly old Dr. Clegg. No need to waste much time gossiping with Reba, or fussing over meals. No need to dress or venture out. There was the _ window by day and the dreams by night. Then all at once she was curiously weak, and this illness came. But it was all false, somehow; this physical change. Her mind was untouched. She knew that. No matter how often Dr. Clegg pursed his lips and hinted about calling in a “specialist”, she wasn’t afraid. Of course Avis knew he really wanted her to see a psychiatrist. The doddering fool was filled with glib patter about “retreat from reality” and “escape mechanisms’. But he. didn’t understand about the dreams. She wouldn’t tell him, either. He’d ‘never know the richness, the fullness, the sense of completion that came from expériencing contact with other worlds. Avis knew that now. The voices and shapes that came in the window were from other worlds. As a naive child she had invited them by her very unsophistication. Now, striving consciously to return to the childlike atti- tude, she again admitted them. | 3 They were from other worlds; worlds of wonder and splendor. Now they could meet only on the plane of dreams, but someday; someday soon, she would bridge the gap. They whispered about her body. Something about the trip, making the “change”. It couldn’t be explained in their words. But she trusted them, and after all, a physical change was of slight importance contrasted with the opportunity. Soon she would be well again, strong again. Strong enough to say “ves.” And then they would come for her when the moon was right. Until then, she could strengthen the determination, and the dream. Avis Long lay in the great bed and basked in the blackness; the black- ness that poured palpably through the open window. The shapes filtered down, wriggling through the warps, feeding upon the night; growing, - pulsing, encompassing all. They reassured her about the body but she didn’t care and she told them she didn’t care because the body was unimportant and yes, she would gladly consider it an exchange if only she could go and she knew she belonged. | Not beyond the rim of the stars but between it and amongst substance dwells that which is blackness in blackness for Yuggoth is only a symbol no that is wrong there are no symbols for all is reality and only perception is limited ch’yar ul’nyar shaggornyth. . . 81 comicboo = :