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Comet, v. 1, issue 2, March-April 1941
Page 7
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Necessitated Return SUE by MR. BRADFORD John F Reintrof 'Twas a clam, cool evening. But in the air there was a state of muskiness. The stars were seemingly nearer that night, but a huge veil seemed to cover all. There were five sitting in absolut a quiet in the rear car[[?]] of the Atlantic Express. Mrs. Bradford, a tired looking women, who had raised a family of three all grown up now. Mr. Bradford sat smoking his pipe amidst glass upon glass of claret. He had been a strong drinker of late. Indeed, he had been none-too-moderate a drinker when a young man, having said: "To Hell with it all; I'm out for a little fun in life." Well, he had had it. Paul sat on a sort of lounge in the front of the car. He had bungled life horribly. A man with apparent success, but one who had met real failer. He was a writer -- at heart -- but the lure of money and luxury had called him away from his dreams before it was outof its infancy. His words were often: "If I could only have written one line[?] 'Someday I shall go to Heaven and be with my own people;[' it would have made me the happiest man on the face of earth. And there was Mary. What a saintly women. She had always hoped to be a nun, but her folks had their wills set against it. There was so much to lie for they said. And how often she had repeated; "Then I would rather be dead!" Paul spoke. "If I could have written one line." "That's what you say, Paul dear'" The mother had spoken with that sad smile which came from the soul rather than the heart. Paul. "Oh -- oh; nothing, nothing at all. Just thinking how fine it is to be going on this trip. I would be content to go and never come back." "Wouldn't we all?" interposed Mother Bradford. Said Sue: "Oh why must you be like this, the whole lot of you? Think of what life has for you. You're so -- oh skip it." Seated comfortably in a club chair, swaying slightly from the rock of the train as it took a turn, a voice made itself heard. "Damn! Shut up. Now in the name of Hell Almighty can a person do any thinking --." Suddenly the train took a lunge to the left. The lights went off for what seemed an eternity, but snapped back on in what made it all seem as if[?] a second. "Heavens," cried Mrs. Bradford. "What was that? Gracious sakes!" Paul suggested a bit. "Seemed like I heard a voice that said, 'Everybody be calm; just a little difficult." (continued on next page)
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Necessitated Return SUE by MR. BRADFORD John F Reintrof 'Twas a clam, cool evening. But in the air there was a state of muskiness. The stars were seemingly nearer that night, but a huge veil seemed to cover all. There were five sitting in absolut a quiet in the rear car[[?]] of the Atlantic Express. Mrs. Bradford, a tired looking women, who had raised a family of three all grown up now. Mr. Bradford sat smoking his pipe amidst glass upon glass of claret. He had been a strong drinker of late. Indeed, he had been none-too-moderate a drinker when a young man, having said: "To Hell with it all; I'm out for a little fun in life." Well, he had had it. Paul sat on a sort of lounge in the front of the car. He had bungled life horribly. A man with apparent success, but one who had met real failer. He was a writer -- at heart -- but the lure of money and luxury had called him away from his dreams before it was outof its infancy. His words were often: "If I could only have written one line[?] 'Someday I shall go to Heaven and be with my own people;[' it would have made me the happiest man on the face of earth. And there was Mary. What a saintly women. She had always hoped to be a nun, but her folks had their wills set against it. There was so much to lie for they said. And how often she had repeated; "Then I would rather be dead!" Paul spoke. "If I could have written one line." "That's what you say, Paul dear'" The mother had spoken with that sad smile which came from the soul rather than the heart. Paul. "Oh -- oh; nothing, nothing at all. Just thinking how fine it is to be going on this trip. I would be content to go and never come back." "Wouldn't we all?" interposed Mother Bradford. Said Sue: "Oh why must you be like this, the whole lot of you? Think of what life has for you. You're so -- oh skip it." Seated comfortably in a club chair, swaying slightly from the rock of the train as it took a turn, a voice made itself heard. "Damn! Shut up. Now in the name of Hell Almighty can a person do any thinking --." Suddenly the train took a lunge to the left. The lights went off for what seemed an eternity, but snapped back on in what made it all seem as if[?] a second. "Heavens," cried Mrs. Bradford. "What was that? Gracious sakes!" Paul suggested a bit. "Seemed like I heard a voice that said, 'Everybody be calm; just a little difficult." (continued on next page)
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