The Project Gutenberg EBook of Special Delivery, by Damon Francis Knight
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.org
Title: Special Delivery
Author: Damon Francis Knight
Illustrator: Ashman
Release Date: April 16, 2010 [EBook #32011]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SPECIAL DELIVERY ***
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 April 1954.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
copyright on this publication was renewed.
_Special Delivery_
By DAMON KNIGHT
Illustrated by ASHMAN
_All Len had to hear was the old gag: "We've never lost a
father yet." His child was not even born and it was
thoroughly unbearable!_
* * * * *
Len and Moira Connington lived in a rented cottage with a small yard,
a smaller garden, and too many fir trees. The lawn, which Len seldom
had time to mow, was full of weeds, and the garden was overgrown with
blackberry brambles. The house itself was clean and smelled better
than most city apartments, and Moira kept geraniums in the windows.
[Illustration]
However, it was dark on account of the firs. Approaching the door one
late spring afternoon, Len tripped on an unnoticed flagstone and
scattered examination papers all the way to the porch.
When he picked himself up, Moira was giggling in the doorway. "That
was funny."
"The hell it was," said Len. "I banged my nose." He picked up his
Chemistry B papers in a stiff silence. A red drop fell on the last
one. "_Damn_ it!"
Moira held the screen door for him, looking contrite and faintly
surprised. She followed him into the bathroom. "Len, I didn't mean to
laugh. Does it hurt much?"
"No," said Len, staring fiercely at his scraped nose in the mirror. It
was throbbing like a gong.
"That's good. It was the funniest thing--I mean funny-peculiar," she
clarified hastily.
* * *
|