The Fur Coat: An Original Story by Jennifer Weigel
I grew up in a small but comfortable house in northeastern Maine. The backyard overlooked the ocean from a short, rocky outcrop. The front faced onto the gravel road that Father drove to and from work. A poorly defined gravel driveway ended behind the house at a small ramshackle shed that I dared not enter under Father’s strict orders.
Mother never strayed far from the house despite her apparent contempt for the simplicity of her everyday existence. She cooked. She cleaned. She laundered the clothes and washed the dishes and did all of those things that a good housewife should. But every afternoon, she plopped my brother Shane and I in front of the TV to watch cartoons while she gazed longingly at the sea.
Shane and I shared a room. Our window faced a small broken-paned hole in the ramshackle shed. Late at night, long after the world was asleep, a faint glow emanated from that shed. Always careful not to wake my brother, I pulled myself up to the window and peered out.
Every night, Father stole away into the shed and flicked on a small lamp. He opened a door in the floor, from whence he pulled a large wooden box. Out of this box he drew the most beautiful fur coat. The brownish-gray fur glowed in the lamplight as if it were alive. He gently massaged oils into the coat to keep it supple and carefully replaced it under the floorboards. And when he had finished, he withdrew from this haven and locked his secret firmly behind a deadbolt. Until one winter day…
It was biting cold that day, the kind of cold that gnaws away at your bones from the inside out. Shane and I ran home quicker than usual, hoping for two mugs of hot chocolate to thaw us out. Preferably heaping with marshmallows. But Mother was nowhere to be found.
“Mother,” I called to the cupboards in the empty kitchen.
“Mother,” Shane called to the silent TV in the empty living room.
“Mother!” I screamed to the howling wind out the front door.
Nothing.
The wind beat the porch door into the front of the house with a rhythmic “Ker-chunk!” A terrified Shane dashed about the house crying. He frantically searched for any scrap of evidence while I braved the outdoors.
I rounded the house, past the frozen flowerbed and along the wind-tattered backyard fence. Another loud “Ker-chunk!” resounded through the air, but not from the front porch door. A chill wormed its way up my spine as I spied the driveway.
“Ker-chunk!” The door to the ramshackle shed lay in ruins, leaving a splintered gaping hole. In that hole, Mother swayed back and forth. Her clenched fist tightened around a hammer as she swung into the floorboards with a wild, untamed lunacy. I melded into the fence, unable to move and scarcely able to breathe. I stared at her.
A final “Ker-chunk!” and the floorboards loosed their secret. Mother madly grabbed the wooden box out from under the floor of the shed. She pried it open, her black eyes brimming over with tears. She pulled out the fur coat and barked a shrill cry to the wind.
Mother ran from the tattered shed clutching the fur to her chest and darted around the back of the house. Her gaze slipped right through me as she tore past, unaware of my presence. Meanwhile, the gravel road growled and spat under Father’s tires as he crested the hill towards the house.
Father sped into the driveway upon seeing the shed. His truck jolted to a harsh stop. He erupted from his poorly parked truck and raced around the back of the house just as Mother hurled herself over the rocky outcrop and into the sea. My heart sank into my stomach and my legs became jelly, free from their rigid, frozen stance. “No!” I screamed as I dashed to his side. He clenched my hand tightly, fighting back tears, while I buried my face in the warm cuff of his coat.
“Such a pity. Such an exotic beauty,” the townsfolk murmured. But Father and I knew. She had been our selkie. She had merely returned home.
And feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website.
-Mountains-
A serene mountain landscape yawns; monumental evergreen trees fingering a brilliant azure sky stroked with wispy clouds. The air is crisper and fresher here, wafting its piney fragrance along the meandering deer path that bends and swerves down the gradual slope…
-Reset-
-City-
A bustling urban environment beckons, its diverse, brightly-clothed denizens laughing with one another, casually parting as you stroll through their midst. Sunlight dances through the crowd, reflecting off of towering buildings, cars, and bicycles. Sounds swell together as though breathing life into all interconnected within this rich tapestry of time and space. The street is a cacophony of alluring smells, and the savory scent of kosher all-beef hot dogs…
-Vegetarian-
Fragrant cumin zing of vegetable samosas…
-European-
Perfume of freshly baked baguettes embraces you in a warm hug as you sit at a small metal café table, savoring an espresso…
-Caffeine Free-
Lavender cremosa…
-Non-Carbonated-
Limonade…
-Reset-
-Beach-
The warm sand squishes between your bare toes as the soft ocean waves lap at your feet, beckoning you to wade further into the cool water…
-No Swimming-
The woven rope hammock stretched between two perfectly-spaced palm trees sways slowly as you lounge in its cradle, sipping a Mai Tai…
-Non-Alcoholic-
Iced lemonade in a highball glass through a red plastic straw…
-Eco-Conscientious-
Paper straw, the citrusy elixir providing respite from the steamy…
-Less Hot-
Warm breezy summer…
-Spring-
Spring air, children…
-Nature-
Birds…
-Silence-
You close your eyes, hammock gently rocking you to slumber.
We here at My Universe wish to thank you again for choosing our services. We know that there are many post-cataclysmic alternative realities available, and we appreciate your business. Please enjoy your respite from the societal collapse, and remember us next time you need to unwind.
And feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website. And if you really feel like getting away and helping clean up the beach a bit, check out this relaxing video from Dylan Clark titled Seagrass. Or maybe that wasn’t so relaxing after all… 😉
Somehow I came across an older Midnight Panther comic book, Feudal Fantasy #2 from the late 1990s to be precise, and I thought I’d reappropriate it into a new story as a collage. Anyway, this is what evolved. Honestly there wasn’t a lot of content to work with, but that isn’t surprising seeing as how that wasn’t really the point of the original… And sorry, I saved the erotic bits for another project, though even that was pretty tame in this one – just a bunch of boobies.
Images: Black and white line drawings of wide-eyed anime women and men in various states of undress, looking cute, being coyly pensive, and hack ‘n slashing.
Text reads: I like… men who are dying. We ought to just kill everyone involved. The scent of blood!! I never see his face, he always wears a mask. What a waste of time. I don’t like this. The horny bastard. What a pig!! -Slash- Sounds like it could be fun.
Images: More black and white line drawings of wide-eyed anime women and men kissing and hack ‘n slashing.
Text reads: Mercenaries of glorious Edo, if you can make the flowers that bloom along the rivers during spring drop their petals, then do so. I’m the Ferryman of the River Styx. Whssh.
OK, OK – here are some boobies since you stuck with this so long. And here’s a link to some more of my comic book collages, in case you are interested.
And feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website.
Black Friday.
You can’t beat the deals. So many of us. Waiting. Readying. Checking the time. Counting down the seconds. You better believe I earned my place at the start of the line. I’ve been camping out here since late Wednesday. Yeah, yeah, the holiday was yesterday. Whatever, I had my family’s full endorsement.
Because that new high-definition television beckons. The best in zoning out technology. All channel access. Cutting edge entertainment. Bleeding edge. That blade is sharp, baby. Like a razor.
But this kind of escapism is costly. A reality check says it’s not in my family’s budget. We don’t make that kind of money, and so here I am. Among all the others vying for the same prize.
Only one will get there first. Only one available. Must have TV. Must have T.V. Must. Have. T. V.
An employee approaches the door. Nobody noteworthy. A soon-to-be-casualty. No more. No less.
We rise and lurch into place. Ready…
On your mark.
Get set.
Go!
Original images generated with Nightcafe AI art generator.
And feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website. Or if you just want more zombies, might I recommend either Elvis or the Fashionistas?
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