Interzone, 1957

Washed up on a beach after six days without a grain. Met by a strange bear-thing the color of my dead wife’s hair. It talked like the clicking of beetles – cliksnap! cliksnap! – and called itself a Bobbler. I had the shakes something fierce so it gave me a cigarette. We went to the Tumble Tunnel and I almost fell down. Bobbler pointed up to Rainbow Balcony – cliksnap! cliksnap! – and even in my delirium I knew what he was saying. “She’ll fix you up! She’s got what you need!” The room was full of strange conversations and music. I counted five different languages, and with each word I was pushed, pulled, opened, closed, dropped and spun.

I shook like a babe at First Communion as I tried to climb those stairs. I saw stars, stars and flowers, and heard the Bobbler downstairs cheering me on- cliksnap! cliksnap! – but I couldn’t go another step. Next thing I know it was a week later and I was drenched in sweat and wearing a fat Egyptian’s boxer shorts. They said they found me in Alphabet Alley. I said “Jack, you can keep it.”

Somewhere out there is the Brightlings Exploration Station. I might have been there for 6 months or 3 years. And I hope to God I never have to go back.

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