Fern Glen Essays
A Razin' in the Sun
by Judy Sullivan

A thousand devils are gnawing at my brain. I feel their needling teeth and shrink before their slashing claws. My head is filled with the sounds of ripping, tearing and chewing. I'm beginning a slow descent into madness.

They're evicting my neighbors. Yes, they are; it's the demons. Not slatterns and gutter snipes these, but decent, law-abiding citizens thrown out into the streets, their houses razed. There are stunned parents shielding small children. Only today, I watched a father return home to find that his family had vanished. A slight, forlorn figure clad in black suit and white cuffs, he stood bewildered. Across the street, a solitary neighbor in a red skullcap shouted epithets. The demons snarled at her and she fled.

I'll be next. On a killing spree, they'd do anything to chase me, screaming, into oncoming traffic. I'm the enemy. There is no one to make them go away, no convenient herd of swine in which to send them.

As is the way of fleshly temptation, it began innocently enough. There was a bright bauble. It reflected the light and dazzled the eye. It sparked desire - intense desire. One cannot give in, must not give in, to temptation. At least, not at first. Undeterred by initial rebuffs, the demons crooned softly. "How beautiful it is! How powerful would be the one to possess it." Human ears began to listen, although doubt lingered. "Just think," they hissed "of the things you could do! How productive you'll be!" Evil gained a squatter's toehold and set about gaining possession.

They wore a genial face at first and chuckled, on occasion. They tidied up a bit, to facilitate easier access. So helpful and kind. My neighbors were duped, my family deceived. I knew better. I tried to tell them. I wasn't fooled. However, no one would listen. Over reactive, they called me. Everything was fine, they said. Until, that is, the snarling fiends came after them and, one by one, they disappeared.

My very head threatens to split in two. The shrieking has grown steadily louder. I'm not sure for how much longer I can endure it. I'm next on their list. I know it. I hear a cacophony of hellish hordes howling, sneering, screeching my name. There is nowhere to hide. Those that believed me are no longer here. You don't believe me. You placate me and tell me that I'm imagining things. You assure me that I'm just overwrought. I need some rest, you say. I know better. I know what they really are. You won't believe me until it happens to you. However, I was secretive and I taped them. Under their laughing and joking, I recorded the real sounds of evil. You can hear them yourself. Listen and you'll know what they really are. Now they'll be after me for sure, relentless, hissing, belching oily clouds of death. Tomorrow I'll be gone. I've warned you.

They're here. Listen.

click here (mp3 format - 344kb)

Forlorn father chickadee stares in disbelief.	Our former homes.
Awaiting the inevitable fate.	The anger of a bereaved mother pileated.

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