actual new england gothic
- the freeze/thaw cycle of the earth births new stones every spring. Unexpected boulders erupt from the ground. there were no rocks here before. you clear the rocks out, dig a new garden. the next spring, there are more rocks. where are these rocks coming from. who is doing this
- your neighbor, an old man of few words with blind granite eyes, appears and communicates through grunting that he would like you to assist in repairing the boundary wall. you stand at the drystone wall separating your property from his and try to balance perfectly round rocks on top of each other. your neighbor does it without apparent effort. what is happening
- etc etc yes it’s all very creepy blood atmosphere, throw some residents whose working-class speech patterns and weird-seeming local knowledge makes you uncomfortable, idk, small low-income communities can be upsetting, it’s all very suffocating and very paranormal sure, in other news, there’s a rock in your bedroom now.
- in winter it is extremely cold and there is a lot of snow, and in summer it is skin-blisteringly hot, and there are the mountains with forests that would swallow you whole because that is what forests do, and oceans that would lose you because that is what oceans are, and we are not surprised, because this is not fucking surprising, the earth never agreed to be benevolent, but who the fuck is sending the rocks
- a lobster boat hauls up an eldritch tentacled horror. the fisherman examines it solemnly, and asks who filled the lobster pots with rocks.
- rocks in the mailbox, open the medicine cabinet and it’s rocks, open the glove compartment and pebbles come out.
- throw in some fuckable repurposed topless Celtic myths in there, I know y’all need some paranormal fuckery to shift stories these days, I ain’t judging, you do who/what you like, more powers to you. unfortunately the nature of the place warps them and all of your Seelie Sidhe Were-Stag fuckboys care too much about geology, instead of whispering cants of secret powers they’re all looking at your rock collection and suggesting that you could polish that quartz. Furious, you complain that they’re taking you for granted. “No,” they say, pained. “Rose quartz.”
- Freeze-thaw cycles, everyone says, but that doesn’t explain it.
- The only one bothered by it is you. They say, “We’re all very grounded here.”
discoholicmusic
yousharknotpass
origamiaround
andulkaphoto
janainaart
