Fiction: What I saw (edited)
Oct. 24th, 2012 12:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
taratemimaOriginal fic I wrote
"I saw a ghost at a strip mall”, the story began. I knew that strip mall. Weeds grew over the walkways; the 'For Sale' signs were faded from the sun, and empty rooms with dust and fallen plaster. "It was all wrong. It was supposed to be noisy and demanding, but it is quiet and forgotten. Mothers, I'm sorry if the metaphor scares or grieves you, but I thought of a stillbirth."
"I've seen the strip mall before, but only saw its flowering weeds and peeling pink paint. If I looked out window on the bus I rode to and from work, it could see vast gaps between the stores and the parking lot."
"That night, I closed that restaurant where I worked. Most of the stores were closed, and the ones that were open were a considerable walk if I wanted to get there. The bus wouldn't be here for an hour. I was feeling bored, and brave. I walked to the parking lot of the long-forgotten strip mall. I could see enough with a flickering orange street light. I couldn't stand stronger light; my eyes burned and ached with sleeplessness. I went to the strip mall alone."
"Some summer recess, I thought. I knew it was self-pity and wouldn’t end the 'working three jobs while re-taking a class' situation, but I didn’t care. I wished I was at the Parthenon when looking at the strip mall. I wished I was at an old monastery. If I’m going to stare at ruins, I thought, I want them designed by better architects. Instead, I was looking at gray and pink boxes, the product of modular building and the cheapest construction materials allowed by law."
"Nature did set up house here, if I may indulge in anthropomorphism. Weeds grew in the
parking lot, near the fence, by an unpaved and vacant field: dandelions heavy with white fluff; plantain pocked with insect bites; pink and white clover; and witchgrass grew high in vacant lot."
"Black medic grew at the edge of the walkway, studded with yellow spots. Crabgrass, lawn grass turned
brown, and prickly lettuce grew together in cracks in the parkway. Bindwood, knotwood, and poanna grew in parody of wheat."
"Squirrels skid and hopped to another tree and vacant lot. I saw a mouse go from one crack in the
walkway to a farther crack."
"I thought of picking purple tongue-flowers, but I found wilting flowers were no fun. Seeing the mall and its wild state satisfied my curiosity, and I turned to leave for the next bus stop."
"In case it is not clear, I was outdoors. It was 85 degrees. I was sweating, smelling like french fry grease. The weeds were still and wilted, like they were weighed by the heat. Crickets were louder than passing cars."
"I felt a blast of cold air. I was surprised by my shivering. I figured it was overzealous air conditioning with a door open, in a car, or something. I wasn’t near a car or a building. No, there is more: the weeds did not sway or even move. Would the plants be affected by car air conditioning? Why didn't I hear anyone drive up?"
"Wherever it came, the cold air seemed to go past me, and gathered into white mist near the mall. The
mist rolled into spheres, separating into two small spheres and one larger sphere. The three spheres
formed into a head and shoulders. It would be a small child or adult, but the mist leaked from the head and shoulders, elongating into undifferentiated legs, arms, and torso."
"It acted with no apparent purpose. It did act, though: it knelt down, bent its head, and reached toward the purple flowers, now turned puce near the street light. The being had long fingers, but it could not touch the flower stems. The being furrowed a brow, and the brow seemed to melt into the face."
"It stood near the cracks with prickly lettuce and crabgrass. If it was mist, wouldn't the plants drip with moisture? Wouldn't the mist turn orange with the light? I couldn't see, but not sure if I should get closer or run away."
"Perhaps I was seeing things; I needed sleep. The heat was making me drowsy. But how could I see
everything so clearly, and what changed and what did not? My eyes burned, but I kept them open. That
left out dreaming."
"I stood still, tilted my head to the left, and looked down. The being had no feet, just a gap of air
between it and the highest left of prickly lettuce. The mist-being floated on the potholed parking lot."
"The mist-being turned its head—guess I’ll call it that—to face me. It was still trying to pick the flowers, attempting over and over. Dots of white light shone on me. Did they see me? Were the white lights its eyes? I stepped back; I could hear only the prickly lettuce squished under my sneakers. Maybe it was just a jumble of plastic bags, or a hallucination. It might be a prank, but how sophisticated would that trick be? Where would I find the trickster?”
"I waved 'hello'. I figured I could at least use my arms. The being seemed to look closer at me with the pinpoint eyes. Its brow appeared then disappeared. It looked back at the mall, or perhaps the flowers. It disappeared. I felt that cold blast again, the blast that shook no plant or strand of hair."
"I saw it again, near the walkway of the strip mall. It floated and did not seem to go into any direction. I did not follow the being to that walkway. Perhaps it saw another clump of flowers and didn't want to be disturbed."
"I tried to find out more about the abandoned mall. I found the contact information for the former
owners, but they gave me no information on accidents or deaths. I tried the local paper microfiche
collection, at the periodical section of the library, but I found nothing near the mall. I looked at joke shops and illusionist supplies to find ways to make misty apparitions. I found nothing. Maybe I need to look harder."
"Until I get a better story, I see it as a brief glimpse of the strange in unromantic and forgotten places."
"I saw a ghost at a strip mall”, the story began. I knew that strip mall. Weeds grew over the walkways; the 'For Sale' signs were faded from the sun, and empty rooms with dust and fallen plaster. "It was all wrong. It was supposed to be noisy and demanding, but it is quiet and forgotten. Mothers, I'm sorry if the metaphor scares or grieves you, but I thought of a stillbirth."
"I've seen the strip mall before, but only saw its flowering weeds and peeling pink paint. If I looked out window on the bus I rode to and from work, it could see vast gaps between the stores and the parking lot."
"That night, I closed that restaurant where I worked. Most of the stores were closed, and the ones that were open were a considerable walk if I wanted to get there. The bus wouldn't be here for an hour. I was feeling bored, and brave. I walked to the parking lot of the long-forgotten strip mall. I could see enough with a flickering orange street light. I couldn't stand stronger light; my eyes burned and ached with sleeplessness. I went to the strip mall alone."
"Some summer recess, I thought. I knew it was self-pity and wouldn’t end the 'working three jobs while re-taking a class' situation, but I didn’t care. I wished I was at the Parthenon when looking at the strip mall. I wished I was at an old monastery. If I’m going to stare at ruins, I thought, I want them designed by better architects. Instead, I was looking at gray and pink boxes, the product of modular building and the cheapest construction materials allowed by law."
"Nature did set up house here, if I may indulge in anthropomorphism. Weeds grew in the
parking lot, near the fence, by an unpaved and vacant field: dandelions heavy with white fluff; plantain pocked with insect bites; pink and white clover; and witchgrass grew high in vacant lot."
"Black medic grew at the edge of the walkway, studded with yellow spots. Crabgrass, lawn grass turned
brown, and prickly lettuce grew together in cracks in the parkway. Bindwood, knotwood, and poanna grew in parody of wheat."
"Squirrels skid and hopped to another tree and vacant lot. I saw a mouse go from one crack in the
walkway to a farther crack."
"I thought of picking purple tongue-flowers, but I found wilting flowers were no fun. Seeing the mall and its wild state satisfied my curiosity, and I turned to leave for the next bus stop."
"In case it is not clear, I was outdoors. It was 85 degrees. I was sweating, smelling like french fry grease. The weeds were still and wilted, like they were weighed by the heat. Crickets were louder than passing cars."
"I felt a blast of cold air. I was surprised by my shivering. I figured it was overzealous air conditioning with a door open, in a car, or something. I wasn’t near a car or a building. No, there is more: the weeds did not sway or even move. Would the plants be affected by car air conditioning? Why didn't I hear anyone drive up?"
"Wherever it came, the cold air seemed to go past me, and gathered into white mist near the mall. The
mist rolled into spheres, separating into two small spheres and one larger sphere. The three spheres
formed into a head and shoulders. It would be a small child or adult, but the mist leaked from the head and shoulders, elongating into undifferentiated legs, arms, and torso."
"It acted with no apparent purpose. It did act, though: it knelt down, bent its head, and reached toward the purple flowers, now turned puce near the street light. The being had long fingers, but it could not touch the flower stems. The being furrowed a brow, and the brow seemed to melt into the face."
"It stood near the cracks with prickly lettuce and crabgrass. If it was mist, wouldn't the plants drip with moisture? Wouldn't the mist turn orange with the light? I couldn't see, but not sure if I should get closer or run away."
"Perhaps I was seeing things; I needed sleep. The heat was making me drowsy. But how could I see
everything so clearly, and what changed and what did not? My eyes burned, but I kept them open. That
left out dreaming."
"I stood still, tilted my head to the left, and looked down. The being had no feet, just a gap of air
between it and the highest left of prickly lettuce. The mist-being floated on the potholed parking lot."
"The mist-being turned its head—guess I’ll call it that—to face me. It was still trying to pick the flowers, attempting over and over. Dots of white light shone on me. Did they see me? Were the white lights its eyes? I stepped back; I could hear only the prickly lettuce squished under my sneakers. Maybe it was just a jumble of plastic bags, or a hallucination. It might be a prank, but how sophisticated would that trick be? Where would I find the trickster?”
"I waved 'hello'. I figured I could at least use my arms. The being seemed to look closer at me with the pinpoint eyes. Its brow appeared then disappeared. It looked back at the mall, or perhaps the flowers. It disappeared. I felt that cold blast again, the blast that shook no plant or strand of hair."
"I saw it again, near the walkway of the strip mall. It floated and did not seem to go into any direction. I did not follow the being to that walkway. Perhaps it saw another clump of flowers and didn't want to be disturbed."
"I tried to find out more about the abandoned mall. I found the contact information for the former
owners, but they gave me no information on accidents or deaths. I tried the local paper microfiche
collection, at the periodical section of the library, but I found nothing near the mall. I looked at joke shops and illusionist supplies to find ways to make misty apparitions. I found nothing. Maybe I need to look harder."
"Until I get a better story, I see it as a brief glimpse of the strange in unromantic and forgotten places."
