Sandman Sentiments #11: Crestfallen
However, the narrative's warp drew me unwillingly into the spotlight. I suppose I should start at the beginning. There had been a raucous and rude young man by the name of Theostophnes who bore a passing resemblance to myself. It was remarked by many, including his later girlfriend,, much to my confusion and chagrin. I thought myself nothing like him, if he was a whirlwind leading an oncoming, i was a calm ocean breeze on a warm summer day.
He followed my twitter account, but I chose not to reciprocate. I did not wish to encourage the connections and gossiping tongues. If he wanted to learn from my civic example, so much the better, but I did not have reason to be overly concerned with his activity.
That is, until a few months ago when he disappeared from the town premises, leaving a vague note about flying with the angels. Some hours later, a body was discovered in the woods along the highway. I was called to the scene as the local undertaker extended to a coroner's license and responsibility for the county area. Upon arriving, I found the body sprawled amid broken branches at the bottom of a roadside cliff. It was likely that he jumped in some delusion that he actually could fly. Like that purple & green toy astronaut in that animated film, his dose of reality concerning the possibility of anthropomorphic levitation was discovered faulty.
The young man was babbling about danger & dark shapes. I tried to sedate him to ease his pain when a shadow passed overhead. Somehow, I lost consciousness for nearly half an hour, only to wake to find blood everywhere, the paramedics and policemen dead. And the crazed young man was clutching a staff & looking down at me. Why I was spared, I may never know. Even more inexplicable was his sudden recovery. He claimed that some brothers in a 70's Impala had arrived on the scene with an angel & staked some Fairy-blooded vampires. I was willing to placate this unstable individual, & carefully nodded and listened to his fantasy narrative while I looked for an opportunity to drive back to town. He insisted on taking my phone, insisting that his own was lost & ordered me to drive him home, telling me I owed him that much. I obliged his demands, & it was a tension-filled ride back to Sanditon for me. He looked pleased with himself, & oblivious to my heightened state.
It was hardly a week later when that mysteriously recovered young man started yelling in an argument with himself in front of Main Street. Apparently, it was some sort of mating ritual, in the course of which he fell unconscious and awoke to declare undying love for Hazelle Evans. This lady in her 20's owns the local Dress Fanditon shop & was the single mother to a teenager by early adoption. That this lady & young man fell in love adds credence to C.S. Lewis's observation in the Silver Chair. "I guess beetles fancy other beetles."
My sense of paranoia only deepened in the aftermath of this. He explained that the rationale behind his erratic & dark behavior was that he had been possessed of an ancient entity known as the Faemon. This only deepened my suspicions and wariness of & around the fellow. I wanted to avoid any connections with such a person, & was relieved when he appeared to oblige. I felt a vague sense of unease each time I buried another citizen of Sanditon, as if another presence was watching over me in my duties. I had many restless nights, waking early to have chamomile tea to calm my nerves.
Whenever I tweeted, some new citizen would declare the resemblance, so I limited my tweeting to the late hours of the night, when most were sleeping. It gave me peace to channel my thoughts into pithy & thoughtful distillations or observations of my day. I felt that I was going mad, I heard whispers at night & unexplained urges to midnight marathon the original Star Wars trilogy. Yoda's voice kept echoing in my head, with quotes I didn't remember hearing despite my almost weekly viewings of the series.
Thankfully, the young Theostophnes left town again, because he claimed that his newborn twins by Hazelle were acting unusually. The news of the children & his departure filled me with unexpected rushes of joy & contentment. My anxiety levels dropped & I was able to sleep soundly once more at night, as if a weight had been lifted off my mind.
This sense of bliss and freedom was short-lived, as Isulraine the Huntress arrived in Sanditon. She claimed to be the bloodsister of Theostophnes. She informed Theo's friends that he had been defeated in a series of demented parodies of common board games by herself. Isulraine's presence immediately reawoke the danger warning impulses of my psyche, only louder even than her brother's aura. At least he was subtle about his eccentrities, while Isulraine paraded hers openly as a Hunter-For-Hire. The local Mafia was contracted by the girlfriend to negotiate for Theo's release by the sister's hand. The talks went sour as the two parties quickly established mutual distrust of each other's tactics and motives.
Last night, when my mind reached a breaking point of frenzied activity, I blacked out into a lucid hallucination in which my mouth spoke with terrible words not my own in a speaking cadence similar to the ancient green-midget jedi master. My only consolation was that it must be a dream, I was relieved that this madness was in the privacy of my home. I hoped it was a fever from working too many hours and watching the original trilogy too many nights. Imagine my dismay to wake from this distressing nightmare, hyperventilating in my easy chair, with the Huntress and Mafia spokespeople in my house. As I checked my twitter feed, a transcript of my dreaming was posted for the town to see. I was crestfallen to see my crest fall so publicly. I apologize for any of the words which appear on my profile. I was not in my right mind at the time. It took 4 cups of raspberry mango tea to settle my breathing.
I am beyond abashed for this unfortunate occurrence, which might lower faith in a pillar of the community of myself. It only takes a scandal of this caliber to make hash of my reputation, rendering it to be a laughingstock. I wonder if I should invest in a dunce cap as a proactive measure, & play the whole debacle off as an ill advised jest. I am fond of hats.
Again, I deeply regret any whom I have offended with my waking nightmare. I hope you will find it in you to forgive a foolish and tired old man his follies. I wish to take a vacation and rest up.
Perhaps I will visit Dolphinton...



















