This evening, just after sitting down at my desk in a profound reverie, I suddenly rose in a start of confusion and stumbled down into a dark and murky chamber, hidden just below the sight of vision. The darkness around me stirred, and soon a figure emerged from the flickering shadows. It was a gremlin, now grinning, now winking in the candlelight his hand held forth. He caught my arm swiftly and, in the whirl of the darkness around me, I thought I saw my own face appear in the shadows of his. His breath upon my ear, he whispered the secret of his name to me. He assured me that he recognized in me a distant relation, that he belonged to a family of many, that they, like he, were only flickering phantoms of spirit, possessing unfathomable and occult powers. It was their expulsion into the very boundlessness of such obscurity that secured to them an infinitude of associates and agencies indistinct. He kissed me in haste and, gripping my hand fast, led me through various winding passages, gloomy stairwells, and shadowy caverns, fabulous and not to be believed. Dumb with agitation, I did not once resist, but let this spirit guide me where he willed, awed by the very force by which he compelled my body to its obscure purpose. All around us breathed the dark secrets that, whether locked in chains or slithering unfettered and free, remained concealed by the gremlin's meager candlelight, which curled, now kindly, now jealously, around the twists and turns of his labyrinth den. I half-suspected that my own start of confusion, the frantic half-formed question which dropped me into these depths, could be somehow illuminated by this gloomy store of ancient secrets, but my guide never lingered, and drew me on and on into the descending void. Cavern after cavern we penetrated, until at last we reached an inner recess, a resplendent chamber decorated most brilliantly, in which were seated a crowd of glimmering shadows just like the gremlin who, still clutching my hand, compelled me forward. Row upon row of seated specters we passed until finally we approached a throne cut out of glass at the very fundament of the shining chamber. On this cursed throne I was told to sit, and was greeted with adoration and worship like the roar of thunder greeting god or king. My guide's hand withdrawn, the awful gravity of the throne drew me forward and compelled my body to fold in dignity upon it. Upon the throne, my flesh began to glisten, crackle, and hiss like foam, and it became as elaborate as the glass on which it was perched. My thoughts, my screams, the twinkling light in my eyes could all be seen dancing among the rainbow reflections of the heavy, crystalline throne. My cries were met with cries as the specters around me bellowed, ascending in a frenzied swarm all about my emanating light. And in that roar that would finally fling me far and forever from that infernal palace, I met my discomposure with but meager piety. I bowed my head to the floor, kissed the kingly sole of my stately foot, turned to reverence my body, now radiant upon the throne, and, there, in the fleeting moment before waking, spied the maniacal face of the gremlin gently grinning and nodding in his sleep.
About the Author
Joshua Fesi (he/they) has a Ph.D. in English Literature and is a third year Master of Divinity in the Episcopal and Anglican Studies track, currently discerning ordained ministry within the Episcopal Church and serving as a seminarian intern at the Church of St. Luke in the Fields.