Looking för en kort historia om en man som äter en smörgås som lugnt reagerar på en utlänning som verkar

Letar du efter en kort historia om en man som äter en smörgås som lugnt reagerar på en alien som visas

"Så avvisar jag" , en kort berättelse av Terry Carr som du förmodligen läste i antologin 100 Stora Fantasy Short Short Stories ( Isaac Asimov , Terry Carr , och Martin H. Greenberg , eds.), om du inte läser originalpublikationen i Fantastiskt , april 1972 , som finns tillgängligt på Internet Arkiv (klicka här för nedladdningsalternativ). Titeln hänvisar tydligen till känd händelse där Samuel Johnson " refuted " Biskop Berkeley : s filosofi om subjective idealism genom att sparka en sten.

Det handlar om en man som sitter i sitt rum och läser en bok medan han äter en smörgås, när en varelse från en annan dimension materialiserar sig framför honom och engagerar honom i konversation.

"I don't believe you'd understand my method of arrival," the stranger said.

"Try me," said Broderick. Three nostrils?

The stranger sighed. "I'm from an alternate time stream, and I arrived by means of a temporal translator. Does that mean anything to you?"

"Not a lot," said Broderick. He marked his place and set down his book on a ledge of the bookcase, next to a small dish with half a cheese sandwich in it. "Are you a building inspector or something?" He decided the nostrils were a birth defect. Weird, though.

Jag kan inte komma ihåg vad de diskuterar men historiens humor var att den smörgåsande mannen nästan inte reagerar på det här utlänningens plötsliga utseende.

Broderick finished the sandwich and wiped his lips with a paper napkin. "Mr. Omo, you may think you're being funny, but as you saw, I was reading when you came in, and I want to finish the book tonight. If you're not a building inspector or somebody I have to tolerate in my apartment, I'll thank you to leave. Go make jokes with somebody else."

och (så långt jag minns) bevisar det lugnt att det inte kan existera.

"Have you ever heard of Bishop Berkeley?" Broderick asked suddenly. He leaned forward again, elbows on knees.

Yaddeth Omo said guardedly: "No."

"I thought not, so I'll tell you about him. He said reality is only what we perceive. For instance, if a tree were to fall in a forest where there was no one around to hear it, would it make a crash when it hit? No, of course not; it's meaningless to say it would. Do you understand?"

[. . . .]

"It's a simple test—I snap my fingers, I wake up, and you're gone. Very pragmatic test. Shall I?"

"No!" said Yaddeth Omo, backing away.

"I think I will," said Broderick. "If you're afraid, you'd better leave now, before you get stuck in a world where you don't exist. Go back to your own world, if it exists for you, and stay there." He held up his hand, finger against thumb.

"Stop!"

Broderick snapped his fingers.

Till sist försvinner varelsen under styrkan av människans argument och han går tillbaka till sin bok.

Yaddeth Omo disappeared, and a split second later Broderick's ears popped.

He smiled, and went into the kitchen to fix himself another cheese sandwich. As he got out the bread he wondered what the future of this time stream might have been if he'd been more of a fan of Sacher–Masoch. But that, of course, was idle speculation.