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Cosmic Tales, v. 2, issue 1, Summer 1939
Page 18
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18 COSMIC TALES high into the heavens. The sky was priple now, and fringed, in the east, wit crimson streamers of morning sunlight. But he did not heed the beauty of the dawn. His vision took in only the drab city beneath, for his thots were tinged with despair, and the dark monotony of the metropolis matched his mood. And he hung there, poised in the open space between earth and the firmament, lost in morbid contemplation of his predicament. ************************* After a while, he had an idea. It occured to him that if he, Peter Paine, discarnate spirit, were not dead, then his body back at home must also be...not dead. The thought cheered him. Perhaps he had fallen into a trance during the previous night? A cataleptic trance, he believed it was called. His astral body had been liberated from his material body, and was even now exploring the world in a material-less state. But how could his body be restored to normal life again, that was what he wanted to know. There had been cases, he knew, when doctors had brought the virtually dead back to life again by injecting a stimulant into the heart. That sounded hopeful. But how could he contact a doctor.....? Instantly inspiration struck him. He could materialize in a physician's surgery during the morning, and implore him to call at his home address to resuscitate the entranced body therein. He could.... He waited no longer, but immediately set about selecting a suitable doctor. ************************ It was indeed fortunate for Paine that he chose a certain Doctor Burke to play the part of the Good Samaritan in this astral adventure. Burke was a man who was extremely interested in mysticism and psychic research, and did not possess the hardened, dogmatic scepticism of the average scientist when confronted by psychic phenomena. He was, on that morning, busy making notes in his case book, when a shadow fell across the page. He glanced up and it was just in time to witness the last stage of Paine's final materialization. He saw a transparent wraith poised in the air, a wraith that gained substance with incredible rapidity. In but a few moments, the misty form was transformed into a solid man, completely naked, who stood on the floor and stared imploringly at the doctor. At first Burke was startled as anybody in his position would have been. It seems that he spoke to the apparition, but received no reply. The ghostly visitor was obviously trying to say something but despite his efforst, seemed seemed completely tongue-tied. Then, it would appear, the doctor, having regained some of his self-composure, offered a scribbling tablet to the "spirit", in the hope of obtaining some form of written statement if speech proved too difficult. His maneuver was successful for Paine grasped the tablet eagerly, and wrote hastily upon it. Then gave it back to the doctor, and vanished. Burke, highly excited, examined the tablet and frowned in bewilderment. For, upon the pad were scrawled three numbers--454-and underneath, --13 A--. That was all. For many minutes, he scrutinized this mystic inscription, but could make neither head nor tail of it. "454 - 13A" said the paper. So the visitor had written. What on earth could it mean? It might be a warning....say that something good or evil would happen on the 13th of [[underline]]A[[end underline]]ugust, or [[underline]]A[[end underline]]pril, at perhaps, 4.54 p.m. or a.m., but it was all very vague. Too vague to be convincing. He put the pad away and decided to write an account of what had happened. Two pages had been covered when, suddenly, the so-
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18 COSMIC TALES high into the heavens. The sky was priple now, and fringed, in the east, wit crimson streamers of morning sunlight. But he did not heed the beauty of the dawn. His vision took in only the drab city beneath, for his thots were tinged with despair, and the dark monotony of the metropolis matched his mood. And he hung there, poised in the open space between earth and the firmament, lost in morbid contemplation of his predicament. ************************* After a while, he had an idea. It occured to him that if he, Peter Paine, discarnate spirit, were not dead, then his body back at home must also be...not dead. The thought cheered him. Perhaps he had fallen into a trance during the previous night? A cataleptic trance, he believed it was called. His astral body had been liberated from his material body, and was even now exploring the world in a material-less state. But how could his body be restored to normal life again, that was what he wanted to know. There had been cases, he knew, when doctors had brought the virtually dead back to life again by injecting a stimulant into the heart. That sounded hopeful. But how could he contact a doctor.....? Instantly inspiration struck him. He could materialize in a physician's surgery during the morning, and implore him to call at his home address to resuscitate the entranced body therein. He could.... He waited no longer, but immediately set about selecting a suitable doctor. ************************ It was indeed fortunate for Paine that he chose a certain Doctor Burke to play the part of the Good Samaritan in this astral adventure. Burke was a man who was extremely interested in mysticism and psychic research, and did not possess the hardened, dogmatic scepticism of the average scientist when confronted by psychic phenomena. He was, on that morning, busy making notes in his case book, when a shadow fell across the page. He glanced up and it was just in time to witness the last stage of Paine's final materialization. He saw a transparent wraith poised in the air, a wraith that gained substance with incredible rapidity. In but a few moments, the misty form was transformed into a solid man, completely naked, who stood on the floor and stared imploringly at the doctor. At first Burke was startled as anybody in his position would have been. It seems that he spoke to the apparition, but received no reply. The ghostly visitor was obviously trying to say something but despite his efforst, seemed seemed completely tongue-tied. Then, it would appear, the doctor, having regained some of his self-composure, offered a scribbling tablet to the "spirit", in the hope of obtaining some form of written statement if speech proved too difficult. His maneuver was successful for Paine grasped the tablet eagerly, and wrote hastily upon it. Then gave it back to the doctor, and vanished. Burke, highly excited, examined the tablet and frowned in bewilderment. For, upon the pad were scrawled three numbers--454-and underneath, --13 A--. That was all. For many minutes, he scrutinized this mystic inscription, but could make neither head nor tail of it. "454 - 13A" said the paper. So the visitor had written. What on earth could it mean? It might be a warning....say that something good or evil would happen on the 13th of [[underline]]A[[end underline]]ugust, or [[underline]]A[[end underline]]pril, at perhaps, 4.54 p.m. or a.m., but it was all very vague. Too vague to be convincing. He put the pad away and decided to write an account of what had happened. Two pages had been covered when, suddenly, the so-
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