Gothic Americana

[dappermouth]

You feel you’ve been here, once before — a memory that was not quite yours.

[dappermouth]

Afflicted with a rural curse.

[dappermouth]

A figure who waits by the edge of the drive.

[sunny-jac-blog]

oklahoma gothic

-you hear someone say they are going to the city. you don't have to ask them to elaborate. there is only one city that locals refer to by that name. you never had to learn, never ask, but you know exactly where they are headed. everyone does.

-you live twenty minutes away from the wichita mountains. you see them every day when you step out of your house. tourists come and are in awe by them. you wonder why they see something you don't. you hope whatever draws them in doesn't keep them there. you pray the mountains release them.

-when you near the sirens, take the children to the cellar. you must leave one adult standing watch as the others climb onto the roof to watch the tornado in the distance. if one thing brings a neighborhood together, it's wa watching distant destruction and ignoring the dangers.

-you hear stories passed down from times when parents didnt care. "we used to walk the railroad tracks by the lake around midnight," your aunt says. she wonders why you don't sneak out. why you don't have fun in the dark. "you live in the country, you can do what you want." when the train goes by that night, you hear faint screams and howls in the distance. you do not want to know what lies at the railroad tracks.

-you pass by the pasture every day. one day, there is nothing in sight. the next day, you see a full herd of cattle. you do not recognize the pasture anymore. they are gone the next morning.

-"the diner in town has changed," you hear a man say. you haven't been in a while. you remember the taste of the fresh lemonade and wonder if it is the same. when you go back there is a new waiter. the lemonade suddenly isn't as sweet.

-monday you are picked up early from school. "tornado threat," your aunt says. the school does not shut down. when you walk outside the parking lot is flooded. the school does not shut down. the sky is green and eerie and there is an uneasy feeling in your chest. the school does not shut down. there is a storm on thursday. one far away. you can see sun and blue sky. the storm is heading the opposite direction. the administration takes you to the tornado shelter anyway. school shuts down.

-on your way into tulsa, you pass a billboard for a new dispensary. medical marijuana is legal here now. you pass another. you do not remember a time when you did not pass theaw buildings. you pass another. someone you know wants to get their medical marijuana card. you pass another. you know they do not have the condition they say they have. they do not seem to care either way. you pass another.

-the recent floods took away more of the red dirt. you pray no more is taken down the river. you are scared of what lies beneath. if the dirt is gone, it can get out.

[laurenftagnart]

We thought they were deer, until they started hanging around the gravel pit behind Megan's dad's house.

They run very fast.

Commission info @ willftagn.carrd.co

Tip jar: Ko-fi.com/willftagn

[mahoumoonlight]

gothic americana
❝ hell is REAL. ❞

[mossyblue]

the true american gothic experience is passing five places selling rvs, a dennys, a mcdonalds, and two motel 6s along a stretch of highway the size of one city block at 6:30am on christmas, passing big, completely empty feilds with bright yellow signs warning you to fear god along with an abandon giant wooden shelter advertising log house construction, and going through a tiny town in which you pass a sign for a restaurant called ‘king solomons’ which is, in fact, an abandoned building that looks like it was at one point set on fire

[dappermouth]

The air here smells familiar, and the wind sounds almost sad, like the low and distant howling of the dog you never had.

[gothique-americana]

The deer don't flee here. They all say the phenomenon is due to overpopulation, overcrowding. No one wants to admit the truth.

[kelptroll]

the devils are in the walls

[gwaindrifter]

Midwestern Gothic II

-It’s fair season. there’s a “Deep-Fried Anything” stand. You worry that they actually mean it.

- Your neighbor has a confederate flag. He says “The South will rise again”. You fear it is already here. You are in northern Iowa.

-As a child there was a cornfield that abutted the school playground. You were always warned not to play there. You can’t remember the faces of the kids who did.

-Jobs are hemorrhaging from your town. That is not the only thing here hemorrhaging.

-It is election time, and the politicians are always here. It is not election time, and the politicians do not even know your state exists.

-You tell someone you are from Illinois, and they ask if you mean Chicago. You say that you’re from the other side of the state, and they ask what other side. You honestly aren’t sure anymore.

-You are out on the highway and see smoke rising up into the sky. Just a brush burn you assume. The smoke is thick and black. Just a brush burn you assure yourself.

[gwaindrifter]

Midwestern Gothic III

-There used to be an angel statue in the local cemetery,  turned black from the elements. Legend had that if you stayed there after midnight, the angel would come after you. The family has long since removed the statue, but you can still feel her presence.

-You are driving past the housing developments, where there’s still some wooded areas in the ravines. You spot some deer crossing the road a little ways down. One stops and looks at you. Not at your lights, not at you car, but you. You can feel his gaze. You can feel him goading you. You come to a stop, and he continues on his way.

-It is Summer, and the cicadas have returned. It starts slowly, a buzz here or there, but before you know it the air is filled with a cacophonous drone. It seems ceaseless. You wonder if this is what going mad sounds like.

-You are driving late at night, and your directions take you down a dirt road. As the lights from the highway fade, and you are consumed by the night, you begin to realize how alone you really are.

[holdopenthattrashcan]

Western PA gothic

* You see a flash of bright eyes right before the collision. “She hit a deer. Totalled the car.” But you know that wasn’t a deer. They all know it, too.

* First day of buck season is damn near a regional holiday. You wonder how many of those boys are going to be sacrificed this year. Seems like more and more every year but the winters are still getting worse.

* You found some bones in the yard again. You toss them in the burn pile and try not to think about it too much. Probably just deer bones, you lie to yourself.

* You cut through the pasture every day on your way home from school. You’ve never seen a horse or a cow but theres plenty of shit in the grass.

* Theres nowhere to go but the movie theater in the strip mall so you spend every weekend seeing movies. One day the theater is gone. No one else seems to notice. It’s an old run down Giant Eagle now.

* They put a modern bridge in at Coverts crossing. It doesn’t stop the screaming and screeching tires in the middle of the night.

[aprilanger]

MIDWEST GOTHIC

— there’s history here that’s only recently been forgotten. those rocks in the dirt might be bones and the clay is red from blood.

[thewindwhistlesyourname]

Small Town Southern Gothic

• There’s a thickness in the air. It’s cloying. The humidity makes it feel like the air itself is sticking to you. The sweat pours down your face and into your eyes.

• You drive by the same houses every day. The same people sit in their front porch swings. They have a vacant look in their eyes. They’ve been here for as long as you can remember. Sitting. Watching. Waiting.

• No one goes into the woods on the edge of town anymore. We try to forget the disappearances. We try to normalize the dismembered animals. The folks on the edge of town deny that when they take their dinner scraps out to the woods at night it’s actually an offering. Feeding stray animals, they say. But we all know. The woods are hungry. The woods don’t forget. They will take.

• Your neighbor’s farm animals have been falling sick. Those that make it long enough to mate give birth to babies that are… wrong. Stillborns. Extra limbs. Concave heads. Some even coming out with no eyes. When they leave their mother, they come out screaming. Even the stillborns. Even the ones that barely make it past their first breaths. They all scream. They don’t want to exist here.

• A car passes through every once in a while. Someone taking the scenic route. Everyone watches. A twinge of what looks like jealousy in their eyes. Those people get to leave. We aren’t so lucky.

• We’ve been issued a warning for a drought. It hasn’t rained in weeks. Maybe months. Maybe years. We don’t know anymore. We don’t remember what rain feels like. The air is thick with moisture, large bruised looking clouds hanging over head. Taunting. Threatening a downpour, and never delivering. You’re starting to doubt that what you’re hearing is thunder, but there’s still lightning.

• The weather channel spoke of a full moon tonight. You don’t get your hopes up. This town hasn’t seen the moon in a long time. The moon and stars turned their backs on us long ago.

• The darkness coupled with the incessant screaming of the cicadas can be disorienting at night. It’s easy to lose your way. The town looks different at night. Almost unrecognizable. Almost like you’re somewhere else. Almost. But we know that can’t be true. No one ever leaves.

• Everyone has a hunting rifle in their home. Sometimes people leave with them, but where do they go? We don’t go to the woods anymore. What are they hunting? They always come back with sunken, shell shocked eyes and dirty knuckles. Many of them never speak again. People stopped asking questions long ago.

• The graveyard behind the church has overgrown with weeds and gnarled branches. No one has been buried there for a long time. The ground is bad, so the older folks say. They don’t elaborate, but you don’t ask them to.

[dappermouth]

In far-off fields you see a strange beast resting at a broken grave–and til dark it lies there, waiting, weary-eyed and unafraid.

[dappermouth]

There’s a shivering light on the street tonight, strange shadows on the lawn–a black horse running in the grass and vanishing at dawn.