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The monster extends its legs wide and big,
Dark against the sky of steel
And men gather to get to its top,
They bring their women
and their children,
They bring their rosaries and their leather bibles
Their linen sinks in the muddy roads,
Their worn shoes scratch against the paths of stone.

Doom, doom, doom
the monster’s heartbeat pounds
I hear it,
right beneath the ground.

My father used to take me there,
To the place under the amber-fazed cross
It shines, he said, with the mercy
of the blood spilled for our sins
But I didn’t see that;
My small neck
and my silly little eyes saw nothing,
nothing but the monster in the shape of a star.

Doom, doom, doom
The pulse pounds. Strong and angry
a drum echoing
through a crowded cave.

I shivered under its cold stance, under the eyes of the monster,
I’d never seen them, but I knew it had a thousand
All dark and hidden beneath trees
All looking down on me
You are seen
I hid myself under my father’s arm.
The sky thundered,
it always thundered as we went up, up, up.

Doom, doom, doom
the monstrous echo lingers
with every step,
with every breath.

Mother said they were just mountains,
But the black birds knew,
As they circled and rattled near the monster,
I could hear my fear in their croaks
Desperate,
drowned by thunder, bam!
each louder than the other
and booming from the mouth of the monster

Doom, doom, doom
I must’ve stepped on a vein
I feel it pump;
Up, up, down, down

We’d made it halfway up the path before lightning stoke,
It set the sky on blue fire and shook the ground to its core
My father and my mother knelt down
But I didn’t
I looked straight up, at the thousand eyes of the monster.
Under the blue flame of the sky, it looked down on me
You are seen
no one saw it, no one but me.

Doom, doom, doom
I looked to my right, then to my left—
and at last I saw its flesh, its arms, its legs
At last I saw the monster in the shape of a star.



No stranger to strong feelings, Vivienne Camille began translating her deepest emotions into ink. Soon, her words blossomed into stories with hearts of their own. Vivienne is now working on her first novel, scribbling on napkins, and reading—lots. Her first piece, "The Sea," was published in The Diamond Gazette. You can follow her on Instagram @viviennecamillev.
Current Issue
2 Dec 2024

For nine straight miles, the hot-rolled steel rails cut a path through the woods, a metal chain thrown into soft mud. Discarded, rotting railroad ties littered the tracksides, the stench of creosote saturating the forest air until birds no longer frequented the trees.
I didn’t complain about him / being a werewolf / He thought I didn’t know
Dark against the sky of steel / And men gather to get to its top
By: E.M. Linden
Podcast read by: Jenna Hanchey
In this episode of the Strange Horizons Fiction podcast, Michael Ireland presents A Cure for Solastalgia by E.M. Linden, read by Jenna Hanchley. Subscribe to the Strange Horizons podcast: Spotify
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