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Porte D'entrée


Ed Ahern


Joan d’Arc


H.L. Dowless


Lord Dunsany



Karen Greenbaum-Maya


M.R. James


Mór Jókai


James Kendley

{without whom, this issue would not exist}

Brian Rihlmann


Walter Ruhlmann


Sean M. Spence


Townsend Walker


 ♠    ♣


Edward John Moreton Drax Plunkett,

18th Baron of Dunsany



Charon leaned forward and rowed. All things were one with his



It was not with him a matter of years or of centuries, but of wide

floods of time, and an old heaviness and a pain in the arms that had

become for him part of the scheme that the gods had made and was

of a piece with Eternity.


If the gods had even sent him a contrary wind it would have divided

all time in his memory into two equal slabs.


So grey were all things always where he was that if any radiance

lingered a moment among the dead, on the face of such a queen

perhaps as Cleopatra, his eyes could not have perceived it.


It was strange that the dead nowadays were coming in such numbers.

They were coming in thousands where they used to come in fifties. It

was neither Charon's duty nor his wont to ponder in his grey soul why

these things might be. Charon leaned forward and rowed.


Then no one came for a while. It was not usual for the gods to send

no one down from Earth for such a space. But the gods knew best.


Then one man came alone. And the little shade sat shivering on a

lonely bench and the great boat pushed off. Only one passenger:

the gods knew best. And great and weary Charon rowed on and on

beside the little, silent, shivering ghost.


And the sound of the river was like a mighty sigh that Grief in the

beginning had sighed among her sisters, and that could not die like

the echoes of human sorrow failing on earthly hills, but was as old

as time and the pain in Charon's arms.


Then the boat from the slow, grey river loomed up to the coast of

Dis and the little, silent shade still shivering stepped ashore, and

Charon turned the boat to go wearily back to the world. Then the

little shadow spoke, that had been a man.


"I am the last," he said.


No one had ever made Charon smile before, no one before had ever

made him weep.



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