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“You Won’t See Me”
cc&d, v305 (the January 2021 issue)
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What Lies
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She

Feston Altus

    Her neighbor knows it too. He sees the newspapers piled up on her porch, but knows she’s not on vacation. He wonders how the dog is. She has a dog. He hasn’t seen the dog outside since he saw her last. He wonders if he should call someone and notify someone. But he doesn’t want to disturb her and he shakes his head.
    She doesn’t know that he knows though. She isn’t thinking of the newspapers. She made it out of bed yesterday and was proud, but then she knew she shouldn’t be proud and went back to bed. She used to watch TV, but she hasn’t been paying her bills. She hasn’t been taking her pills either. She didn’t make an active decision to stop, she just ran out one day, some day, a while ago. She thinks now, not of the dog, although the dog is fine, somehow. She thinks of the clouds and how it would feel falling through them. She hasn’t seen clouds in a while, her shades are down, but she remembers what clouds look like. And she continues to say clouds in her mind. Repeating clouds until the word clouds sounds funny. Clouds. Clouds. She begins to wander within the walls of her mind, thinking of who invented the word clouds and how the word clouds kind of sounds like clowns. Clowns. She hates clowns. She’s not scared of clowns though. She hates when people are scared of clowns. And that’s why she hates clowns. People give clowns too much attention. They’re just clowns. Clowns. She used to be afraid of clowns, until she met a nice clown. 20 years ago she was scared of a scary clown that she imagined stood at the bottom of her bed with a double-sided ax, but her father would tell her that there was no clown. And her father wouldn’t let a clown in the house, especially not a scary clown. But she didn’t trust her father. He was short and she knew that if a clown were trying to get into the house he wouldn’t be able to stop it, especially not a scary clown. She thinks of what she would do now if a clown got in the house. She doesn’t think of what the dog would do. She knows that the clown would easily make its way to the bottom of her bed. She doesn’t even remember if she had locked the door. She moves to get out of bed to check, but stops. It doesn’t matter if it is locked or not. The clown would get in regardless. And she knows now that if the scary clown with the double-sided ax were at the bottom of her bed, she would not be scared. And she would not try to stop it from killing her. She stops thinking of the clown and begins to think of death. Her death. How could she die without doing it herself? What if the house caught fire? She wouldn’t try to get out. She would burn in her bed. And turn to ashes. She might as well be ashes already. She does just as much now as she would if she were ashes. She’s already ashes. Her mind is ashes. Ashes.



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