erAEser's Sandbox

Picturepalooza 2022 draft
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The Monster Nextdoor

- Jan 4, 1909
The day I introduced myself to the Jacobsens I assumed the form of a physician in his twenties. I saw them move in this morning. For the week past, I was the only one who inhabited this neighborhood. The rest of the houses were empty, until the colonel, his wife, and their child moved into the neighborhood.
The first thing I always do, as you may know from my previous entries, is to take a picture of the family in front of their house, myself included in the photograph.
Families start out suspicious of me, me being so eager to have my picture with them.
- Jan 5, 1909
The colonel had finally returned in the afternoon, and I had been so eager to get on, but… I must have a photograph first. That is why when the colonel finally came around this afternoon, I stepped off my porch, sprinting towards him. His eyes looked at the sidewalk as he walked towards his house,and he waved his arm at me.
“Mister Jacobsen,” my voice said.
“Ayuh.”
“Would you mind me taking a photo of you and your family with me next to your house?”
“A housewarming gift?” he said. “Marie wouldn't hear about it.”
“Well, I was going to keep the photo for myself, you know, personal?”
“I’m not payin’ for no damn photograph,” he said, walking up the steps of his porch.
“No, of course, I’ll take care of everything, assuming you’re giving consent for the photo to be taken.”
The colonel looked up at me, then nodded, went inside their house, and then he closed the door behind himself.
Hair. I had forgotten my hair. He wouldn't have noticed I had hair last time, because I was wearing my bowler hat. I would be sure to assume a hat next time.
Or perhaps the vacancy of the neighborhood, the chill and crisp wind blowing along the sidewalks, all of this had made him unnerved, in some way or another. He still has some time to get used to that, until —
— Oh! It’s almost dawn. I should finish this entry. The lights of my house are still on. They’ll think some type of lunatic lives here, staying up all night! Time to be done.
- Jan 6, 1909
I had dialed the photographer in the morning.
“Only a week since the last photograph you had with that previous family,” the photographer said. “Are you sure these photoshoots aren't scaring them off?”
“What a zany idea. I’m collecting memories.”
“Sure. Want me to drive out midday, like usual?”
“That would be wonderful.”
After I made the call, I told the colonel that I would require him midday today. The photographer came out, as my thoughts came to him again.
Marie griped, and she would go no further than the porch, screaming baby in her arms. One would think the child has never seen the light of day since his poor little family has moved here! Marie handed the baby to the colonel, and the baby became quiet just in time for the photograph to be taken.
I made sure to wear my hair and bowler hat this time.

Jan_6_1909_Fresno_CA.jpg

[There is a blank page, and then the entries continue on the next page.]
- Jan 7, 1909
I should have locked the doors to the houses other than mine and the family’s. The colonel was curious, that’s all.
Through the attic window, I saw the colonel open the door of a house across the street. He came out after a few seconds, his movement frantic, looking into the next one. Then, I saw him glance at me, myself formless, looking back at him. He went back into his house after that, taking the long way around mine.
Tomorrow will be the final day.
- Jan 8, 1909
the fire
- Jan 9, 1909
A night ago. My consciousness was stirred by the light that projected on the attic roof, coming through the attic window. I had looked out the window, only to see, one by one, the vacant houses ablaze.
I flew right through the attic window. The colonel approached his house, torch in hand. He set fire to his house. Then, the colonel yelled at me. It was not a scream, but a yell. There was courage. He ran through me, approaching my house, and set it on fire.
Courage can send you headfirst into the gaping maws of a monster you know you cannot defeat.
This monster lives forever.
Here, today. I drift among the ashes of my residency amidst the charred neighborhood. All my photographs and entries concerning families have gone unscathed, as if leaving me with something to contemplate as I drift here, formless.

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