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    Futurist Stories
    Futurist Stories
    Futurist Stories
    Ebook91 pages39 minutes

    Futurist Stories

    By Margery Verner Reed

    ()

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    About this ebook

    "Futurist Stories" by Margery Verner Reed. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGood Press
    Release dateDec 10, 2019
    ISBN4064066223038
    Futurist Stories

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      Book preview

      Futurist Stories - Margery Verner Reed

      Margery Verner Reed

      Futurist Stories

      Published by Good Press, 2022

      [email protected]

      EAN 4064066223038

      Table of Contents

      FUTURIST STORIES

      MOONBEAMS [ To V. Z. R. ]

      THE DREAM MUFF [ To I. K. McF. ]

      ROSE PETALS

      IN A FIELD

      INCALCULABLE

      A NEAPOLITAN STREET SONG

      IN ALGIERS

      CANDLES

      IGOR

      TWO HAD LIVED [ To M. D. R. ]

      I

      II

      III

      IV

      V

      VI

      THE FIFTH SYMPHONY [ To R. S. L. ]

      II

      III

      THE MAD ARTIST

      OLD SCORES

      THE LAST

      ASHES

      NANCY TURNER

      THE PAWN-SHOP KEEPER

      SOMETHING PROVINCIAL

      CONFLICT

      THAT NIGHT HIS SORROW WAS LIFTED.

      NEW YORK

      MITCHELL KENNERLEY

      1919

      FUTURIST STORIES

      Table of Contents

      Moonbeams

      The Dream Muff

      Rose Petals

      In a Field

      Incalculable

      A Neapolitan Street Song

      In Algiers

      Candles

      Igor

      Two Had Lived

      The Fifth Symphony

      The Mad Artist

      Old Scores

      The Last

      Ashes

      Nancy Turner

      The Pawn Shop Keeper

      Something Provincial

      Conflict

      That Night His Sorrow Was Lifted

      MOONBEAMS [To V. Z. R.]

      Table of Contents

      It

      was a glorious winter's night. Through a blue haze one saw the ground, covered with snow, shining under the magical moon. And the trees of the forest were also covered with snow; great clusters glistened in their branches. Almost as light as day. Not a bleak light, but an enchanting one, which dazzled in the cold, brisk air. Into the woods walked the Spirit of Art. As he gazed at the surrounding beauty he grew sad, and wondered why he had never reproduced such splendor—the moon—the snow—Oh, he must try again—Tomorrow he would do better.

      Then came the Spirit of History and he too grew sad as he gazed into the quietude of the night. His hands were soiled with blood, with dark hideous crimes. And he asked why he had committed such deeds—with all this beauty around him. Why could he not have likened history to these woods where the snow was white. Tomorrow he would do better.

      And then came the Spirit of Philosophy and like the others he wondered why he had never been under the spell of the Moonbeams before—why had he filled the minds of men with entangled masses of dark thought, instead of teaching them the beauty, the enchantment of a night like this. Tomorrow he would do better.

      The three Spirits met and talked together. They would go back to the cities and begin anew. They would bring the spell of the woods back with them and teach men unknown things.

      A New

      Era was about to be born.

      Morning

      dawned cold and raw, a bleak gray light shone in the deserted streets. The three Spirits returning from their wandering all too soon forgot the magic spell of the woods—the snow—the Moon—and fell to work once more among the sordid things of the day; making Art and History and Philosophy only grayer—darker—

      And

      in the woods where all was beauty, the Moonbeams shone only for the fairies as they danced under the trees, and now and then for a wistful human soul that had strayed into the splendor of the night.

      THE DREAM MUFF [To I. K. McF.]

      Table of Contents

      One

      more day of horror had

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