Top Hat

A Story by Alan B.

The night's life.

Down a dark side street a voice echoed and made the young man stop and listen as his friends moved on with the rest of the never-ending, noisy crowd to a new pub. Downtown, homeless men yelling or talking to imaginary people was no rare occurrence, but something in the tone made him want to hear. He strained his eyes to see farther down the narrow side street, and as his vision adjusted, the form of a comically tall figure made even taller by a top hat could be made out, lit by a dirty bulb overhead. The young man took a few steps into the dark street to hear the form's words clearly, possessed by morbid curiosity. The voice was deep and cultured, enunciating every word perfectly,

"What is-is what is, and what is can be very strange indeed."

The figure was gesturing grandly with its arms as if it was the ringmaster of a circus presenting a new addition to the freak show. Though feeling a bit unsettled by this strangeness the young man felt compelled to see more. He got to within ten feet of the figure which was no longer just a figure but a fully fleshed man, pale and wearing a tuxedo with a long cape attached, and stopped. He now saw that the man was standing on an old wine barrel which had made him so tall from a distance, and that one of his hands was actually a polished hook. If he noticed the young man he gave no indication, but instead reached into his cape and pulled out a cane. Gesturing to the wall in front of him he repeated,

"What is-is what is, and what is can be very strange indeed."

Something moved in the shadows of the wall and stumbled out into the light; something without arms and a chest that was held together by staples, making noises in its throat because it seemed to have no mouth at all. The young man was rooted to the grotesque sight but turned to run when the ringmaster again gestured and a fleshy mass that bubbled and rippled pulled itself out, dragging behind the armless thing.

Sandra, the only sober person in the group, could no longer hear the young man's laughter and looked around before entering the pub to see him. "Where's Ben?" she asked the group, realizing the question was stupid as they looked at her blearily and reeking of alcohol. Before any could answer she said, "Never mind," and left to drunken shouts of dismay. Retracing their path on the street she searched for where he could have stopped. A red color caught her eye as she approached the small side street. She reached down, picking up Ben's jacket. The light was gone now, encasing the street in blackness. Her concern nearly made her enter till a faint whispering came, "Shub Niggurath...her young come to eat..." The cackling laughter that followed made her decide to search elsewhere.

© 2020 Alan B.

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roarke

very cool. Crystal clear writing. I like how the narrative sets the focus and then easily switches to another area yet keeps it all stitched together. Nice work. A possible suggestion, maybe punctuate the sentence:
"What is- is what is...." the hyphen sets the 'is-s' apart and also sets a matter of fact tone for the reader. Just throwin' it on the table. Enjoyed.