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    Freudian Slip
    Freudian Slip
    Freudian Slip
    Ebook49 pages35 minutes

    Freudian Slip

    By Franklin Abel

    ()

    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 26, 2013
    Freudian Slip

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      Book preview

      Freudian Slip - Franklin Abel

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of Freudian Slip, by Franklin Abel

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

      Title: Freudian Slip

      Author: Franklin Abel

      Illustrator: Harrington

      Release Date: April 24, 2010 [EBook #32126]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FREUDIAN SLIP ***

      Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online

      Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

      Transcriber's Note:

      This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction May 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.

      Freudian Slip

      By FRANKLIN ABEL

      Illustrated by HARRINGTON

      Things are exactly what they seem? Life is real? Life is earnest? Well, that depends.

      n the day the Earth vanished, Herman Raye was earnestly fishing for trout, hip-deep in a mountain stream in upstate New York.

      Herman was a tall, serious, sensitive, healthy, well-muscled young man with an outsize jaw and a brush of red-brown hair. He wore spectacles to correct a slight hyperopia, and they had heavy black rims because he knew his patients expected it. In his off hours, he was fond of books with titles like Personality and the Behavior Disorders, Self-esteem and Sexuality in Women, Juvenile Totem and Taboo: A study of adolescent culture-groups, and A New Theory of Economic Cycles; but he also liked baseball, beer and bebop.

      This day, the last of Herman's vacation, was a perfect specimen: sunny and still, the sky dotted with antiseptic tufts of cloud. The trout were biting. Herman had two in his creel, and was casting into the shallow pool across the stream in the confident hope of getting another, when the Universe gave one horrible sliding lurch.

      Herman braced himself instinctively, shock pounding through his body, and looked down at the pebbly stream-bed under his feet.

      It wasn't there.

      He was standing, to all appearances, in three feet of clear water with sheer, black nothing under it: nothing, the abysmal color of a moonless night, pierced by the diamond points of a half-dozen incredible stars.

      He had only that single glimpse; then he found himself gazing across at the pool under the far bank, whose waters reflected the tranquil imagery of trees. He raised his casting rod, swung it back over his shoulder, brought it forward again with a practiced flick of his wrist, and watched the lure drop.

      Within the range of his vision now, everything was entirely normal; nevertheless, Herman wanted very much to stop fishing and look down to see if that horrifying void was still there. He

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