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Timebinder, v. 1, issue 4, 1945
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Dear Friends: Here is such a magnificent bit of descriptive writing that I want to share with you that I cannot wait to include it in the No. 5 issue, but will add it here. It is from our very dear fan and personal friend, Mrs. Doris A. Currier, of Salem, Mass., who had such a splendid letter in the No. 3 issue. She is a young woman with a very unusual mind and one of the finest narrative gifts that I know. I predict that we will hear a lot from her as time goes by. She and her husband have recently moved to Salem, and she wrote me, in part, as follows: "However, we are now Salemites...eerie, infamous Salem, the home of witches and the famous Lovecraft fogs from the sea. Beautiful, historic old Salem, the burial ground of old country superstition. But I am strangely drawn to the city. "There is an 'air' about Salem that I have never yet encountered in my travels. She has a definite personality and a strong character. She is purely positive and does not let the humans dwelling on her streets dominate her. She is moody and temperamental and seductive. "When I first moved to the city I found to my intense surprise that although the people were wonderful to me, the city put me on probation. Yes, each time I walked the streets I felt invisible eyes watching me, and tentacles probing my mind. I must have measured up, however, for now I feel at home and safe upon the streets of the city. The traffic is heavy but I have no fear of it. I know that now that I belong I need not watch too closely, for other eyes do it for me, and guide me safely through the streets. "And the fogs...the amazing fogs of Salem that sweep up the streets like a white ghostly army and within minutes visibility zero. There is substance and body to the fogs, and they weave and writhe like live things between the buildings. They peer into the lighted windows of the offices as though in amused tolerance of the meanderings of the humans. But they are never impersonal. They are friendly or inimical. They are cold and damp, or warm and damp. They are never just damp, or just fog...they have character just as the city itself has character. "Yesterday I watched an amazing spectacle. It was a grim battle between the fog and the sun. Two elements, each powerful, both striving for possession of the city. Fire versus water...and for once, the fire won. "All morning the fog had held the city in a tight and constricting area of semi-visibility. It swirled and curled itself around chimneys and oozed its way through the open windows into the houses, filling them with its damp, cold self. It was one of the inimical fogs, a chill, unhealthy semi-life destructive to all it touched. It held the humans in the city tight in its clutch and filled their minds with morbid and depressed thoughts. No one smiled, there seemed nothing to smile about. Voices were
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Dear Friends: Here is such a magnificent bit of descriptive writing that I want to share with you that I cannot wait to include it in the No. 5 issue, but will add it here. It is from our very dear fan and personal friend, Mrs. Doris A. Currier, of Salem, Mass., who had such a splendid letter in the No. 3 issue. She is a young woman with a very unusual mind and one of the finest narrative gifts that I know. I predict that we will hear a lot from her as time goes by. She and her husband have recently moved to Salem, and she wrote me, in part, as follows: "However, we are now Salemites...eerie, infamous Salem, the home of witches and the famous Lovecraft fogs from the sea. Beautiful, historic old Salem, the burial ground of old country superstition. But I am strangely drawn to the city. "There is an 'air' about Salem that I have never yet encountered in my travels. She has a definite personality and a strong character. She is purely positive and does not let the humans dwelling on her streets dominate her. She is moody and temperamental and seductive. "When I first moved to the city I found to my intense surprise that although the people were wonderful to me, the city put me on probation. Yes, each time I walked the streets I felt invisible eyes watching me, and tentacles probing my mind. I must have measured up, however, for now I feel at home and safe upon the streets of the city. The traffic is heavy but I have no fear of it. I know that now that I belong I need not watch too closely, for other eyes do it for me, and guide me safely through the streets. "And the fogs...the amazing fogs of Salem that sweep up the streets like a white ghostly army and within minutes visibility zero. There is substance and body to the fogs, and they weave and writhe like live things between the buildings. They peer into the lighted windows of the offices as though in amused tolerance of the meanderings of the humans. But they are never impersonal. They are friendly or inimical. They are cold and damp, or warm and damp. They are never just damp, or just fog...they have character just as the city itself has character. "Yesterday I watched an amazing spectacle. It was a grim battle between the fog and the sun. Two elements, each powerful, both striving for possession of the city. Fire versus water...and for once, the fire won. "All morning the fog had held the city in a tight and constricting area of semi-visibility. It swirled and curled itself around chimneys and oozed its way through the open windows into the houses, filling them with its damp, cold self. It was one of the inimical fogs, a chill, unhealthy semi-life destructive to all it touched. It held the humans in the city tight in its clutch and filled their minds with morbid and depressed thoughts. No one smiled, there seemed nothing to smile about. Voices were
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