This almost
overabundance of clarity brought into view a strange and terrifying edifice,
looming out of the steel chill blue of the Atlantic. A single great stone
pillar sticking out of the sea opposite a coastline of mingled mud, ooze and
weedy cyclopean masonry which can be nothing less than the tangible substance
of earth’s supreme terrors.
The second
youngest of the Occulomency party felt some supernatural urgings at the sight
of these awe inspiring blocks and actually emerged from his clothes to dance in
a naked frenzy about this cursed shoreline. His cries of delight mingling with
the roar of the mighty yet timeless ocean from whose depths must have surely
come the germ and energy behind his spasmodic prancing.
The
youngest of our party took longer to enjoy the prismatic distortions that the
clear azure waters offered. She was less sensitive to the rhythmic call of the
abyss, and stayed closer to her progenitors, happy in her play. It was not
until some time had passed when I noticed what had been occupying her silent
concentrations.
She had
patterned a rectangular relief in the coarse sand. It’s design, however, was
far from modern in atmosphere and suggestion, and well beyond what one may
ascribe to childish jottings. She had drawn an anthropoidal figure, a bi-ped
with two arms, two eyes and a strange lopsided smile. A comb, similar to that
on a Batham Cock crested the misshapen head of the blankly staring monstrosity.
Beneath was written:
Ph’nglui
mglw’nafth Igglepiggle Night Garden
I have now
search for that Rosetta Stone which will allow me to understand my youngest
offspring’s artistic outpourings. I believe the blue shoes may be a vital clue.
I pray I am
not too late.
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