Fantasy fiction; Science fiction; Subconsciousness -- Fiction
Olliphant settled himself sadly on an untidy mound of rubble and began
to brood. There was no use denying it; the thing was just too much for
him. As he watched the bottle bob back and forth in time with the
idiot song, a large tear trickled down his cheek. Olliphant Gunn was
just a broken reed in the holocaust of Life, and his ruination had come
about through a mere mad bottle. The man began to blubber hopelessly.
It was during this heart-rending climax that the nurse, a small blonde,
appeared at the doorway and stared into the pharmacy with large
wondering blue eyes.
The invisible George, who had been enjoying his own singing to the
utmost, stopped at the sight of the newcomer in mid verse. Things, he
decided, were beginning to look up. Warmed by the liquor, George was
dazzled and enchanted.
Unfortunately the nurse was neither of these. Striding through the
door, she stepped into a trickle of syrup and skidded dangerously
toward Olliphant. George, feeling that things were moving in the wrong
direction entirely, seized upon the floundering blonde with one deft
swoop of his invisible arm and lifted her to dry ground. It was a
moment before he was able to account for the girl's shrill screams.
A period of stupefied silence followed as the nurse glanced around
suspiciously. As a girl who, in line of business, had experienced
considerable traffic with men, she was disposed to know to the exact
moment when she had been forcibly clutched by a masculine hand. Also,
which only made matters worse, she was a girl who knew where she had
been clutched and why.
* * * * *
In looking around for masculine hands available for clutching, a quick
survey told the nurse that the room inventoried two and both of them
were the exclusive property of Olliphant Gunn. Geographically it seemed
impossible that either of these hands could have performed the recent
clutching, but in her anger the nurse was not the one to quibble over
details. Seizing up a large crystal beaker she unhesitatingly smashed
it to splinters on Olliphant's skull with one smart whack. Olliphant
looked up through his tears.
"What you wanna do that for, lady?" he sobbed.
"You know what for," the nurse gritted, looking around for further
ammunition. "And that's only the beginning. If you ever...." She
stopped as she suddenly encountered the floating bottle. Instinctively,
or perhaps out of sheer surprise, she grabbed for it. At any rate, it
was not until she had gotten a grip on the thing that she realized that
this was a bottle not properly on the up and up. This fact was brought
home to her even more clearly when the bottle refused to budge in her
grasp and even showed a definite tendency to pull away.
For a long moment the nurse merely stared at the bottle with a
wondering gaze. Then slowly an expression of determination came into
her pretty face. Squaring her stance, she took hold of the offending
container with both hands.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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