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The Collected Short Fiction

Page 124

by Thomas Ligotti


  Do the winters there, in this degenerate little town, pile their weighty snow upon the roofs of those tilting houses?"

  So many question about this secret place.

  But as long as such questions are asked,

  and countless answers are offered,

  the greatest secret will always remain protected,

  for no questions will ever be asked,

  no answers will ever be allowed

  concerning those diseased faces

  that have gazed forever

  behind the glass of grimy windows.

  Like every phenomenon

  that we cannot fully face,

  this degenerate little town

  must remain a cult in its essence

  and serve as a limit

  for such as we care to know

  about what is beyond

  the blackness of night

  or what is deep in our bones,

  for like every phenomenon

  that we have actually come to face

  this degenerate little town

  can only pain us,

  adding to our lives

  a mere surplus of the pains

  we have known so well

  throughout the agonised ages

  of a degenerate creation.

  But like no other phenomenon

  that we have ever faced,

  this degenerate little town,

  under its rotting sky,

  standing upon decayed ground--

  a landscape of a pain

  that is like no other--

  may be our last hope,

  the only hope we have

  of killing all the hopes

  we have ever had

  and murdering every mystery

  we have ever cherished,

  so that we may step forth, finally,

  into that great shining kingdom

  of which we have always dreamed.

  It may be quite likely

  that we are grotesquely mistaken

  to think there is anything special,

  anything remarkable at all,

  about this degenerate little town.

  Far from being the greatest secret,

  the worst or the finest of all our dreams,

  it may be quite likely

  the greatest commonplace,

  the supreme banality.

  Consider the possibility.

  Who among us

  have not found ourselves

  beneath a rotting sky?

  A sky broken and rotting

  from what has been heaped up to it

  during every epic of this earth,

  this ground that is miles deep

  with the decay of everything

  that has ever lived upon it.

  Who has not traveled

  through twisted streets,

  and under the shadow of houses,

  even the straightest of which,

  if our eyes could only see it,

  is veering towards to tilt?

  As for diseased faces,

  they are ever prevailing

  to the point of embarrassment.

  And so much for this civic marvel

  that is beyond the blackness of night,

  or resides deep in our bones.

  Yet if this is the case,

  as it quite likely may be,

  what remains for us in a universe

  where there is nothing special,

  nothing of any account,

  let alone the saving miracle

  of this degenerate little town?

  It seems entirely natural that,

  should anyone gain full knowledge

  of this degenerate little town,

  they would deny the truth

  of this greatest, most terrible of secrets -

  and, as a consequence,

  as an act of self-protection,

  would fabricate some other

  set of circumstances,

  a more companionable picture

  of the way of things.

  This would explain so many

  of the deranged idols and beliefs

  that have arisen in our world.

  At least we would be able to account

  for the multitudes of Mannequin Saviours,

  as one might view them -

  their faces smooth and serene

  behind display windows,

  welcoming the faithful who,

  upon their death,

  will enter a department-store paradise

  of the most vague and intangible delights.

  And some mention must be made

  of what might be called

  the Sect of the Puppetlands,

  whose highly deranged adherents

  posit a transcendent universe

  of infinite and harmless antics

  that are imperfectly mirrored

  in the chaos and crises of our own world,

  which, in any case, will end nicely

  when the Great Puppet Play is concluded

  in a sweet bedtime of slumber...

  until the next show begins.

  Yet, who would begrudge anyone

  the denials or alternate renderings

  of the twisted streets and tilting houses

  the diseased faces and grimy windows of

  this degenerate little town,

  which itself seems so perfectly bleak,

  so in tune with the world we know

  forever inclined to ever greater degeneracy

  that even the few enlightened ones among us

  sometimes doubt it to be real.

  We sometimes imagine

  that we have heard voices.

  Strange and harsh voices,

  faintly calling from beyond

  the blackness of night

  or from deep in our bones.

  And even if there are no actual words,

  no actual language we know

  in which the voices speak,

  still there is a terrible understanding

  delivered into our world

  that only a few may comprehend,

  and none would desire,

  for this understanding,

  this message of strange harsh voices

  from beyond the blackness of night,

  or from deep in our bones,

  declares that this degenerate little town,

  that greatest of secrets,

  is only a facade

  or a mirage,

  a picturesque lie

  or illusion

  in the guise of twisted streets and tilting houses,

  all the rottenness and disease which we sense

  as the source of all the things we know

  or can ever know

  when in fact there is something else altogether,

  something which none could comprehend,

  or desire to comprehend,

  yet which they cannot fail to hear

  when it slips through the sounds

  of those strange and harsh voices,

  when it drifts through

  during the briefest moments of silence

  and from beyond the blackness of night,

  or from deep in our bones

  comes forth as the hollow resonance

  of a most dismal laughter.

  Even though there is no evidence

  that a degenerate little town

  forms the greatest secret

  and is the source

  of all the things we know

  its truth and its existence remain assured

  and there do seem to be certain indications

  certain aspects and elements of our lives

  that in no uncertain terms

  inform us of one fact:

  sooner or later we will find ourselves

  in this degenerate little town

  whether we wish to go there or not.

  Because when the sky

  begi
ns to darken,

  as if rotting before our eyes,

  and when our bones

  begin to change,

  growing soft with decay,

  we know that all the ways

  of our lives

  have been leading us,

  and can only lead us,

  to this degenerate little town.

  And then we may understand

  that everything around us,

  everything within us,

  has a direct point of contact

  to that secret place,

  that source of all things.

  Dreams, for instance,

  the dreams of our sleep

  wherein every mind is destined

  to go twisted and tilting

  into lands of swift magic.

  These dreams alone would make the case -

  if anything were ever needed

  in the way of evidence.

  These dreams alone

  would put us in close view

  of those grimy windows

  behind which diseased faces

  peek out through the glass,

  as if they are waiting for

  someone to arrive -

  as if they are waiting

  for everyone, sooner or later,

  to enter their little town.

  Death Poems (2004)

  First published as Death Poems, 2004, in a limited edition hardcover issue of 333 un-numbered copies.

  Here You Go

  Death is frightening,

  and dying just as bad.

  Say what you will,

  we don’t take it well.

  Then how can we live,

  with all that ahead?

  Something must be

  fooling us constantly.

  Our brains are tricked

  so that we don’t believe,

  for whatever reason,

  we won’t go on and on.

  Our thoughts are clouded

  so that we can’t conceive

  the exact process

  that’s waiting for us.

  Or perhaps we think that

  when the moment comes

  someone else will arrive

  to take over-we’ll survive.

  Where logic is concerned,

  we’re all thumbs.

  How couldn’t we know

  we were born to go?

  Growing Up

  They said it was all good,

  the way that things were.

  But you were very young,

  and said they were lying.

  They said it was for the best,

  the suffering was all over.

  You were older now and

  the best seemed not very good.

  They said there was nothing

  more they could do for you.

  “Good,” you said, old enough

  to know the way things were

  Usefulness

  You can use death to

  achieve goals in life.

  For example, you can

  kill people for hire.

  On the other hand,

  you can try to save people for hire…

  and get paid whether

  or not they die on you.

  On a larger scale, there’s

  the funeral industry,

  equipment for making war,

  pharmaceutical products

  for keeping us alive,

  safety measures that leave

  you injured but not dead.

  All of these are vital

  goods and services and

  therefore quite lucrative.

  All of them are based

  on death or the threat

  of death-death’s reality.

  The food you need

  so that you don’t starve.

  The very air you breathe

  and the water you drink,

  which need to be held

  to standards of deadliness.

  It costs plenty to keep

  us from killing ourselves

  and in the process

  millions of people gain

  a very comfortable living.

  Despite its drawbacks,

  death can come in handy.

  Sometimes it may even seem

  all the world lives on death.

  Memories

  Countless memories

  are stored in your brain.

  Sometimes they rise up

  again and again.

  Sometimes they just stay

  deep in the fleshy darkness.

  Eventually you yourself

  become only a memory

  that either rises up

  again and again

  or remains deep

  in the brain of another.

  Only after everyone

  who ever remembered you

  is gone for good and all

  does the terrible insanity

  that once bore your name

  achieve a true oblivion.

  Good-bye.

  Weather Conditions

  On some days it’s so hot.

  On other days it’s so cold.

  Hot, hot, hot.

  Cold, cold, cold.

  Finally the word goes out

  for you to settle down

  in your narrow bed

  where you will be comfortable

  forever.

  Going Ahead

  After you’re gone,

  you instantly begin

  to fall behind those

  who survived you.

  As the days pass,

  new things happen

  to those survivors

  and also in the world.

  After you’re gone,

  you can’t keep up

  with the latest events:

  you’re out of touch.

  So you fall behind

  farther and farther,

  left in the dust while

  others charge ahead.

  Losing Customers

  They asked for you on the phone,

  but you didn’t take the call.

  They sent you a nice letter,

  but you didn’t reply.

  So your name was dropped

  from the list after another.

  No one wants to bother with somebody

  who can’t be troubled about

  a very special one-time offer

  (with a money-back guarantee).

  No one has the time to go looking

  For you over every inch of the earth.

  Safety in Numbers

  There are plenty more people

  than there were at one time.

  And plenty more are coming.

  It’s as if something inside them

  is always screaming in an urgent

  voice: more, more, more, more.

  Or maybe it’s like waiting in line.

  Everyone feels better if they see

  more are behind them than in front.

  “That makes sense,” you think

  as you make your way forward

  and soon find that you’re next.

  Means to an End

  Only one way

  to arrive

  (that swollen body)

  yet so many ways

  to leave.

  You could spend

  your whole life

  counting those ways,

  thinking about them.

  But you can never

  know the way

  you will take

  until it takes you.

  It’s very strange

  That’s for sure.

  Smaller

  One by one,

  over the years,

  they went their way.

  Each of them

  departed without

  much shout or show.

  As the group

  became smaller,

  you hardly noticed:

  Until the day

>   you asked, ”Hey,

  where did they all go?”

  Big Problem

  Sometimes,

  when all the noise

  dies down

  and you’re by yourself,

  it’s pleasant to think

  that no one is left

  in the entire world,

  that you are the last.

  Everything is over,

  and history is like

  a movie whose last reel

  has already spun its way

  through the projector,

  with no more

  attractions to come,

  just a blank screen

  in an empty theater,

  just a clear blue sky

  over a quiet landscape.

  Nothing that ever happened

  makes any difference,

  there is nothing more

  for you to fret about…

  until you realize

  that eventually you’ll

  have to join the others,

  that even though

  the world is gone,

  the biggest problem

  in the world

  still remains for you.

  The Note

  Everyone says that

  the universe is a marvel.

  But you never thought that.

  Everyone says that

  life is well worth having.

  But you never thought that.

  What you thought

  was contained in a note

  pinned to your hanged body.

  Everyone thought that

  Your hand was beautiful.

  But they never said anything.

  Suddenly

  Where did you go?

  They looked for you.

  They looked everywhere.

  But even if they had

  looked for you

  over every inch of the earth

  they would never

  have tracked you down.

  Yet only yesterday

  anyone could have

  found you at home

  or called you on the telephone.

  Premature

  When it’s all over,

  they sometimes say things

  such as “before his time”

  or perhaps “too young.”

  But the fact is this:

  everything happens because

  “its time has come.”

  And the last thing

  that happens to you

  will always be “on time.”

  No one is too young.

  Nothing is premature.

  Everyone, including you,

  is right on schedule.

  It’s true.

  Staying

  Staying around here

  can be so very hard.

  Really very hard.

  Getting up every day

  and tying your shoes

  and eating your food.

  You go to bed at night

  and sleep your sleep

  and dream your dreams.

  Then another day comes

  and another night goes.

  It never seems to stop.

  Yet going can be hard too,

  really very hard.

  Limited options indeed.

  Birthday

  Even after a person

  is gone from this world,

  people often tend

  to remember birtdays.

 

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