Oblivion, a short story by Jennifer Weigel
Valentine’s Day is coming, so we’re taking a brief break from Marker Drawings to give you Oblivion, a different kind of love story…
A well-dressed middle-aged man sits in the simple chair beside my bed. The room is plain and white and harbors a window shrouded in thick curtains that block the outdoors except for some shimmering fragments of light that creep in through the edges. There are various mechanical devices that emit rhythmic beeps, but otherwise these do not register as anything of note and melt into my surroundings. I lay back on an angled pillow, wrapped in a supple light green gown and draped in crisp and coarse linens. I stare towards the window and then back at my visitor.
The man wears a striped sky blue polo shirt and khakis, his grey-peppered tawny hair slightly tousled. He seems very put together on the surface and yet he looks as though he hasn’t slept in days. He carries himself as if there is some sort of unfulfilled need gnawing at his psyche. What cause could he have to be so fretful? What does he want?
He smiles at me. His blue eyes try to hide an unspeakable sadness, as if he harbors some secret that doesn’t warrant saying. The pervasive melancholy still glimmers through, accentuated by the darkness encircling those eyes, which appear both wet and dry at the same time. Has he been crying? Every once in a while I catch a glimpse of that weight and it shakes me to the core. I wish I could help him somehow. I can tell he wants something, but what?
So, there he is, smiling but still somber. He holds the picture aloft again. It is a photograph of a beautiful couple. A white lace dress. Roses. They stand outside in the sunset. They appear happy. He raises the photograph, eyes pleading with me to some end. He gently takes my hand and cups it in his own. He places the photograph within this nest and we held it together for a while.
Something about the couple is familiar; something about this man is familiar. The young couple in the photograph beams at the unseen camera. There is a striking resemblance between this man at my bedside and the man in the picture. Is that perhaps his son?
But it all seems far away, like a dream hinted upon in the periphery. I stare at the image for a bit longer until losing interest. As I grow tired, the plain white room yawns all around me. This time, this place, is all I know. The allure of the small hints of sunlight at the edges of the window is all that matters. I raise my head and turn towards those glimmers of light.
The man sighs. He tenderly brushes some wispy tendrils of hair from my face and kisses my forehead. I am not at all surprised nor frightened by the gesture. It is somehow familiar, and this is comforting to both of us. The man stands and readies himself to go. He paces slowly to the door, where another person stands waiting. The man turns towards me one last time.
“I’ll return tomorrow, my love.” The words fall limply from his lips. His eyes glisten, unable to contain the inescapable sadness. Something is still missing, but what? I smile at him gingerly as he turns away to address the nearby attendant. “Please make sure she is well cared for. I will be back. In the meantime, if she remembers… anything at all…“ his words quaver, “please call me immediately.”
About this story: I wrote this to consider the loss that comes with amnesia, both on behalf of the individual struggling with the condition and those who love them. My grandmother succumbed to dementia slowly over decades. I clearly remember a conversation we had near the end of her life when I visited her in the hospital continuing care unit. After thirty minutes conversing where she wanted me to meet her granddaughter before finally convincing her that I was said granddaughter, there was a sudden spark of recognition. But the joy that accompanied the revelation quickly gave way to sadness as she herself acknowledged, “I won’t remember that in five minutes.” Her words rang true.
Indecision, featured previously here on Haunted MTL, explores some similar themes. Feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or on her writing, fine art, and conceptual projects websites.
So, as you may have noticed, we have a special fondness for spiders here on Nightmarish Nature. Well, they are kind of the spokes-critters for horrifying animalia, perhaps because they are so freakishly different from us. Or maybe it’s because I find them a little disconcerting for all that I try to take the “you mind your business, I’ll mind mine” approach, at least if they stay outdoors. Or just because I really like to draw spiders for all that I prefer not to find them sharing my home (though I’ll gladly take spiders over other bugs or mice or larger critters who didn’t get an invite).
Anyway, this segment is devoted to the largest Giants Among Spiders, as if you didn’t have enough to worry about already. And the top place is contested based upon body mass or leg length. Most of these are tarantulas, which globally take top place among the large arachnids.
Goliath Birdeater Tarantula
The Goliath Birdeater Tarantula of South America is the biggest brute of spiderdom, weighing in at over 6 ounces. They build funnel burrows and are known to eat birds (although rarely), mice, lizards, frogs, and snakes, but largely any big insects including other species of spiders. They have urticating barbed hairs that they fling at would-be attackers as an irritant to escape. And people even eat them after they singe the bristles off. Here’s a National Geographic video showing this spider in action, in case you wanted to see a giant spider take out a mouse.
Giant Huntsman Spider
And with the longest legs, we have the Giant Huntsman Spider of Laos, with a leg-span of 12 inches. Their legs have twisted joints and they move in a crab-like manner, which furthers their impressive appearance. ‘Cause they’ve got legs, and know how to use ’em. They prefer to live in underbrush and cave entrances. These are like the big relatives of their Australian cousins, which we’ve all seen online and developed a healthy aversion to.
Brazilian Salmon Pink Birdeater & Brazilian Giant Tawny Red Tarantulas
Next we have two more South American species: the Brazilian Salmon Pink Birdeater, which boasts one-inch fangs, and the Brazilian Giant Tawny Red, believed to be the longest-lived spider with a lifespan of up to thirty years. Both are in the tarantula family and have urticating hairs, a word you probably never read much before today unless you are in the hobby. So apparently South America is not the best travel destination for you if you struggle with arachnophobia, though I suspect you’d figured that out already. (I wouldn’t recommend Australia or Southeast Asia either.)
Face Size Tarantula
And finally the Face Size Tarantula, which has a very terror-inducing name reminiscent of the Face Huggers of Alien-glory. Anyway, these spiders have an 8-inch leg-span and live in India and Sri Lanka. They look kind of like big hairy wolf spiders with stripey legs, sometimes with pink and daffodil coloring.
If you enjoyed this eight-legged segment of Nightmarish Nature on Giants Among Spiders and their larger than life kin, please check out past segments:
So here is our last installment of our AI journey exploring the idea of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad wolf being one and the same. All of these are based upon the AI generated art and prompts using NightCafe and then created as posters in Canva. Feel free to check out Part 1 and Part 2 of this exploration if you missed them.
A non sequitur I know, but I couldn’t resist. If you picked up where we left off you’ll get it.
Seriously?! Again with the cropped off head cop out…
Finally! That was a journey. And not even worth the result, in my opinion.
Anyway, here is a bonus montage I made out of a bunch of additional Red Riding Hood prompts for an article that never happened…
Prompts for Montage:
1.) What if Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf were one and the same being?
2.) Her wolf face peering out of her red cloak, fangs dripping with the blood of another victim, lost in the forest and never found.
3.) Little Red Riding Hood closes in for the kill, lunging from her red cloak, her wolf fangs dripping with blood.
4.) I am Little Red Riding Hood. I am the Big Bad Wolf. I am coming for you.
5.) Howling within, the rage sears forth from the red cloak, discarded in the deep woods. Red Riding Hood succumbs to the lycanthropy.
6.) Heaving breaths. Dripping blood. Red Riding Hood is not what she appears. She is a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
7.) Her red cloak masks the fangs hidden below the surface.
8.) It starts with a long sighing breath. Waiting. The wolf within stirs.
9.) Red Riding Hood trembles. She succumbs to the lycanthropy.
10.) The wolf bursts forth from within. It takes over Little Red Riding Hood’s mind, her body, her being.
11.) Red Riding Hood howls. She is ravenous with hunger for blood. The wolf within has taken over. Mind, spirit, body. She feasts on the blood of the moon.
12.) Big Bad Wolf Red Riding Hood ravenous blood moon feast
13.) Blood moon beckons. I. Little Red Big Bad Riding Hood Wolf. Freedom howling night curse.
14.) Beware. Bewolf. BeRedRidingHood. Betwixt. Beyond.
15.) I pad quietly as the forest dissolves around me. Red Riding Hood and Wolf, one and the same.
16.) Wolf within howling dark recesses of the mind, Red Riding Hood lost
17.) Red Riding Hood HOWL wolf bane true existence polymorph within-and-without.
18.) Red howl Riding Wolf dark existence brooding within
So thank you for joining us on another AI art journey. You can still catch the last AI art journey on Haunted MTL here. To see more such devolutions into AI generated art, check out the Will the Real Jennifer Weigel Please Stand Up? blog.
Continuing our AI journey from last time exploring Little Red Riding Hood herself as the Big Bad Wolf… All of these are based upon the AI generated art and prompts using NightCafe and then created as posters in Canva.
How very… Phantom of the Opera predatory… this is definitely not what I had in mind. Maybe something more cutesy?
Ugh. Maybe not.
Wow, that seems like such a cop out, cropping off the head so you don’t have to depict it. And I don’t want to lose the Little Red Riding Hood reference completely.
So no surprise there, I knew that was too many references to work.
And we continued to devolve, join us again next week for the final installment to see how this ended… And again, if you want to catch the last AI art journey, you can find it on Haunted MTL here. To see more such devolutions into AI generated art, check out the Will the Real Jennifer Weigel Please Stand Up? blog.
