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. And feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website.
I have recently begun exploring Fibonacci poetry and penned this as a consideration for the Lovecraftian terrors while considering that Kansas was once an inland sea. It is also based on the beloved and enigmatic painting of Christina’s World by Andrew Wyeth.
She
stares
ahead;
the landscape
yawns ever further
spanning the distance between us
and that deep unthinkable unknowable abyss.
This plain was once an inland sea,
a vast ocean filled
with terrors
beyond
our
ken.
Time
stands
still for
none of us.
It marches towards
our inevitable decay.
Our fragile flesh succumbs to the horror of the void,
cradling our fallen progeny
and yearning for home.
Christina,
hurry
back.
Now.
It
could
happen
anywhere…
The farmhouse beckons
from its horizon vantage point,
thousands of blades of grass groping like tiny tendrils.
The ancestors grasping at straws,
hoping to evade
inevitable
collapse,
their
loss.
Stars
fall.
Panic
sounds beyond
our comprehension.
Their silent screams fall on deaf ears.
We cannot interpret their guttural languages
or understand their diminutive cries
this far from the tide.
Slumbering
depths still
snore
here.
The
ebb
and flow
roil and churn
with water’s rhythms,
caress the expanse of grasses
covering this now fragile and forsaken ocean.
The landscape gapes and stretches wide,
reaching to grab hold
of her dress,
earthbound.
Lost
her.
I hope you enjoyed this jaunt through Christina’s World into pure terror. Feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website. Or go on a trip to the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve.
So what better follow up to Invisibles Among Us in Nightmarish Nature than Monstrous Mimicry? Further exploring the leaps that critters will go to in order to eat and not be eaten. This time we’re focusing on those creatures that want to intentionally be mistaken for one another.
Insects Pretending to Be Insects
This is a pretty common subgroup in the mimicry set. Featuring such celebrities as the Viceroy Butterfly, which looks an awful lot like the Monarch. Why? Because everyone knows Monarch Butterflies taste nasty and cause indigestion. Duh? Though it appears the Viceroy took further cues from this and is not all that tasty in its own right either. Dual reinforcement is totally the way to go – it tells predators not to eat the yucky butterflies regardless. But some bugs go a bit further in this, imitating one another to seek out food or protection. Various wasps, spiders, beetles, and even some caterpillars impersonate ants for access to their nest or because ants aren’t as appetizing as their buggy counterparts to much of anything outside of the myrmecophagous crowd (as shared before, here’s a fun diversion with True Facts if you have no idea), though some also have nefarious plans in mind. And similarly, the female photoris fireflies imitate other firefly signals luring smaller males to try to mate with them where they are instead eaten.
Kind of Weird Mimicry: Insects Pretending to Be Animals
Moths are pretty tasty, as far as many birds and small mammals are concerned, so several of them find ways to appear less appetizing. Using mimicry in their larval form, they may try to look specifically like bird scat or even like snakes to drive away predators, with elaborate displays designed to reinforce their fakir statuses. And once they emerge as moths, they continue these trends, with different species flashing eye spots to look like owls, snakes, cats, and a myriad of other animals most of their predators don’t want to tangle with. But other insects pretend to be larger animals too, with some beetles and others producing noises often associated with predator, typically towards the same end – to deter those who might otherwise eat them.
Animals Pretending to Be Animals
Similarly some animals will mimic others. Snakes may resemble one other, as seen in the Milk versus King versus Coral Snakes and the popular rhyme, Red with Black is safe for Jack or venom lack, but Red with Yellow kills a fellow for all that it isn’t 100% accurate on the Red-Yellow end (better to err on the side of caution than not – so assume they are deadly). Fish and octopuses will imitate other fish for protection status or to conceal opportunistic predatory behaviors. And lots of animals will mimic the sounds others make, though Lyrebirds tend to take the cake in this, incorporating the vocalizations into mating rituals and more.
Really Weird Mimicry: Animals Pretending to Be Insects
Some of the weirdest mimicry comes out in animals pretending to be insects or small fish, where a predator will flick its strangely formed tongue that looks like a fish or water nymph to draw in more tiny critters that feel safe with their own, only to find themselves snapped up as dinner. Snapping turtles are notorious for this, disguising themselves in the muck to make their big asses less obvious and reinforce the ruse. Even some snakes do this.
Weirder Still
Then there are things that pretend to be plants. Like orchid mantises. Or sea slugs that look like anemones (some of which eat anemones and have stingers to match). I mentioned a few of these in the Invisibles Among Us segment last time, because some are highly specialized to look like very specific things and others just aren’t. Essentially, nature loves to play dress up and be confusing and adaptive. It’s like Halloween year round. And who can really argue with that?
Here’s a fun video from Animalogic exploring some of these themes. And feel free to check out more Nightmarish Nature here.
This prose poem considers sinking into self, how ongoing struggles with mental health and well-being have led me to take actions that reinforce the patterns therein, especially regarding depression and existential angst, succumbing to cycles that are familiar in their distress and unease. For these struggles are their own form of horror, and it can be difficult to break free of their constraints. I know I am not alone in this, and I have reflected upon some of these themes here before. My hope in sharing these experiences is that others may feel less isolated in their own similar struggles.
She withdrew further into herself, the deep, dark crevices of her psyche giving way to a dense thicket. She felt secure. In this protective barrier of thorns and stoicism, she hoped to heal from the heartache that gnawed at her being, to finally defeat the all-consuming sadness that controlled her will to live and consumed her joy. She didn’t realize that hope cannot reside in such a dark realm, that she built her walls so impenetrable that no glimmers of light could work their way into her heart to blossom and grow there. That by thusly retreating, she actually caged herself within and without, diving straight into the beast’s lair. And it was hungry for more.
Feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website.
