Friday, July 30, 2021 Erase the Blots

When the moon is so full that it looks like it will break your windows, you know that the Blots are on the move. The night deceives you – do not trust the calm and the silence, for the Blots make no noise as they rise up like smudges against a dark sky. They have no mouths, they make no sound, but their inky presence swells and spreads as they search for places to stain.

You are walking on a snow-covered road on a moonlit evening, when suddenly a Blot drops near you, looking for all the world like an innocent black puddle. You pick up a rock and throw it in – it disappears from sight. You find a long stick and poke it into the inky well, and the stain quickly climbs up the stick toward your hand. You drop it and turn to run, but another Blot has fallen behind you. In fact, Blots are dotting the snow everywhere, sometimes combining to form larger pools. You jump across one, straddle another one and begin to run, zigzagging to avoid them, praying that one won’t land on you. Though it seems counterintuitive, you realize that the Blots never land where there are shadows, so you make for the stand of trees near the road. Once you are safe in the shadows, you stop and watch a Blot as it lands just outside the jagged boundary of the shadow wherein you stand.

It appears to be a stalemate. The Blot cannot follow you into the dark, and you cannot step out into the moonlight for fear of getting swallowed up by it. A thought occurs to you. You take off your jacket and hold it between the moonlight and the Blot and watch the Blot wither and dissipate into nothing. Your fear turns to triumph; the stalemate is over. “I will erase you; I will erase all of you! Erase the Blots!” you cry out as you march forth, holding your jacket high.

And the Blots retreat…until the next full moon.

This story was inspired by an illustration that I found recently which my mother had done when she was a child. I was delighted by the random quirkiness of the phrase “ERASE THE BLOTS” and decided to write a story (the first time I saw it, I thought it said, “Praise the Bluts,” which was even weirder). It turned out kind of creepy, didn’t it?

Just when you thought werewolves were the only danger during a full moon…don’t say I didn’t warn you!

I’ll probably blot this out on the next moonlit evening…