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Science Adventure Stories, v. 1, issue 2, October 1938

Page 39

39                Return To The Future
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Myron, as he stepped upon the metal platform in the dying light of day. "Don't leave me alone!" she cried frenziedly. "Wait! Wait!"

   The form that was Myron's commenced fading, as, crying and sobbing, Alora flung herself upon the dematerializing figure of the youth, noe but an intangible, phantasmal being that receded . . . ever receded.

   "But you shall return!" she prophesied. "You shall be forced to flee . . . and you will return to me! The ancient records say so!. . . "

   Had she seen his lips open to say good-bye," even as he faded from her embrace? Or was it merely the overwrought imagination of a very lonely girl? . . . 

   The upper rim of the sun dropped below the debris-laden horizon in a fading glory of rainbow hues as the form of the Last Woman remain in lonely vigil where a man from the dim Past had once paused. . . . Waited with alternate hope and despair as the first stars appeared in the same, chill sky that had been the cosmic background for so many futile affairs. Waited . . . hoping and waiting . . 

            *     *     **

   Forty-eight hours later, Myron found Alora, upon his destinied return to the year of 3570. As before, it chanced that he completely materialized before she became aware of his coming. This time, however, she was waiting . . . waiting for someone, whom Myron found it not hard to guess the identity of. She was curled up beside a weathered block of granite and sound asleep. Gently, he touched her. She awoke easily and a wan smile greeted him.

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39 Return To The Future ************************************************************ Myron, as he stepped upon the metal platform in the dying light of day. "Don't leave me alone!" she cried frenziedly. "Wait! Wait!" The form that was Myron's commenced fading, as, crying and sobbing, Alora flung herself upon the dematerializing figure of the youth, noe but an intangible, phantasmal being that receded . . . ever receded. "But you shall return!" she prophesied. "You shall be forced to flee . . . and you will return to me! The ancient records say so!. . . " Had she seen his lips open to say good-bye," even as he faded from her embrace? Or was it merely the overwrought imagination of a very lonely girl? . . . The upper rim of the sun dropped below the debris-laden horizon in a fading glory of rainbow hues as the form of the Last Woman remain in lonely vigil where a man from the dim Past had once paused. . . . Waited with alternate hope and despair as the first stars appeared in the same, chill sky that had been the cosmic background for so many futile affairs. Waited . . . hoping and waiting . . * * ** Forty-eight hours later, Myron found Alora, upon his destinied return to the year of 3570. As before, it chanced that he completely materialized before she became aware of his coming. This time, however, she was waiting . . . waiting for someone, whom Myron found it not hard to guess the identity of. She was curled up beside a weathered block of granite and sound asleep. Gently, he touched her. She awoke easily and a wan smile greeted him.