That’s what my Nan used to call the radio. But then she was born in 1911 or thereabouts. She was in her 30’s when my mother was born.
Wireless. Wi-fi. Ether messages. Inexplicable. Antiquitech. OR TELEPATHY?
Hamlet got it right when he said ….
“And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
We seem to’ve lost that wonder of the awesome, innate, magical side of life. We seem to’ve lost FAITH.
How? Why? When? Where? Who? What?
I’m tele-pathetic-ally connected to an ego so big that he’ll NEVER admit to the magical, strange etc above his gi-effin’-nor-mous EGO.
Shrug. So be it.
Wealthy Mrs. Harter has a heart condition. Her nephew, Charles, who lives with her, buys her a radio for amusement, but strange messages come from it. Could her dead husband really be sending her messages? And why is he warning that her life is in danger?
F1RST story here. I prefer Christopher Lee reading it but – m’eh.