(contribution to ‘ZZZ’, a publication by Henry Galano and Gabriele Ciulli)
Flounder, Flounder in the Sea
The TV turns on.
A drawing, pencil on textured paper, takes up the whole screen. It is still. The drawing depicts a murky seabed composed of sand, small shells and floating debris, probably seaweed. On closer inspection you notice two little eyes poking out of the sand in the centre of the page. There is a voiceover playing. A hoarse male voice speaking quickly says the following:
“… and of course, mine scales do take on the hues and markings of the seabed round about me, that I may vanish from sight till the time be right to strike. So there was I, a common flounder, a master of disguise, seeking the occasional spot of food to satisfy mine empty belly, nestled low in the sea bed as I usually am, blending with the gravel, e’er watchful for ambush, when Lo! Mine eye did spy a minnow, glittering ‘neath the sun’s rays. Rarely doth the sun’s rays pierce so deep into this region, and the brief moment of bliss that comes when the light dost touch my eye hath a certain effect upon me. A catharsis or release, methinks, which is not oft felt by a humble fluke, I imagine.”
The image now fades and another takes its place. Again, a pencil drawing but the pencil lines are faint. Fainter than before. The drawing depicts a close up of the same two eyes partially submerged in the sand, they are squinting and a lens flare dissects the whole page.
“It is hard to put into words what such a blinding ray of light doth do unto mine heart, only that it feels of great importance, though fleeting as the tide. It is as though I briefly glimpse a world I know not, perchance I once did belong to. Perchance I never did. After this brief moment, wherein I seemed to lose all sense, mine gaze returned to the minnow, and there it floated, so near into mine reach. With a singular swift lunge, I pounced, trapping it within my jaws. A move I have perfected from the countless feastings wherein I have indulged before. My sharp teeth closed for a brief moment afore I did swallow it whole. But something was amiss. The minnow’s flesh did not feel as it should; its scales were not as slick as they ought to be. A strange elasticity, a rubbery resistance, did catch me unawares. Afore I knew it, a cold, sharp point did pierce mine cheek, a hook that grasped round mine flesh and drew me forward with great force.”
The image fades into another: A canted angle of a distressed fish with a fishing line leading from its mouth to the edge of the page. The drawing is faint and smudged, possibly portraying motion blur.
“I did strive with all mine might, but it pulled with a power far beyond my own. I was cast aboute by the line and haled hither and yon, out of mine owne control. And in mine struggle, a thought did come to mind: the hook attached to a line that stretched upward, beyond my ken, to the surface and into a world I had ne’er considered. Being one that dwelleth in the depths, I have known only the sea bed, the bottom boundary of this watery realm.”
The image fades into another: a faint fishing line leads from the bottom corner of the frame into the centre where it ends. From this point rings emerge outwards depicting ripples in the surface of the water.
"Mine left eye had migrated o’er to mine right side, as is the wont of young flounders when they first swymme, and since that day have I ne’er looked upon the sea bed, but ever upwards. Upwards for food, for the occasional minnow, crustacean, or worm that doth drift into mine reach. Now, there be other things, of course, that dwell in these waters above. Weed, mud, and dust particles, to name just a few. But it came to me, then, whilst the hook tore through mine flesh, drawing me upwards, that I had not truly considered the upper surface of the sea, though I had gazed at it all mine life. How strange, I thought. Its colour, its shape, and its movement were all things I could not explain. How upon a still day, as this one, it dost appear calm and flat, but on other days it can be as erratic as a flailing minnow.”
The image fades into another: A drawing of the water, with its surface at the top of the frame acting as a roof and the sea bed at the bottom. Light rays flood into the water from above depicted as negative space within pencil markings. The fish is illustrated as a tiny detail in the centre of the shot, with a faint line extending upwards to the water’s surface.
“The line tugged, drawing me nearer to this newfound surface, and though I fought with all mine might, I felt mine struggle grow faint, as I continued to think upon on this great form above. Straining mine eyes to glimpse upon the surface, I spied a shape upon the flat expanse. Small at first, but growing swift, it was of a browny-grey hue, too far to make out naught of detail. As I was drawn closer to the surface, the shape began to grow, and I spied features, fish-like in their nature. A dorsal fin, pectoral fins, and a tail with a slight indentation. With a final violent tug, I was pulled within lunging distance of the surface. The rays of the sun pierced through, blinding me momentarily. The shape I beheld now did match the size of mine own body. It was a flounder, just like I.”
The image fades into another: A drawing of the water’s surface from the point of view of the fish looking at its own reflection, centre frame. Again the fish is smudged portraying motion blur. The line extends from the reflected fish’s mouth downwards and out of shot.
“The sun’s rays seemed to have blinded him, too, as he blinked and squinted, adjusting his gaze. His soft brown scales shimmered in the light, and for a moment, I did recall the glimmer of a sunlit ray in the slick scales of a minnow. In his cheek, a large metal hook tugged violently at his flesh, drawing blood with it. And from the hook, there ran a thin line that connected unto mine own, with naught but the space ‘twixt us. He was growing ever greater and I was borne towards him with great pace. Though it all passed in haste, it was not until just before the very moment of impact that I wondered: was this flounder, this common fluke before me, that seemed to dwell beyond the surface of the sea, naught but a counterfeit of mine own lonesome self? And was this pulsating surface, which doth linger o’erhead, naught but a mirror of what it could see: me, pulled towards it?
The next drawing is a close up of the flounder’s two eyes closed hard shut. The pencil lines are faint again and much of the drawing is left as negative space portraying the bright light reflecting off the fish.
“Right ‘ere I ‘gan to brace myself for the collision with the surface but instead I was whisked straight through it, upwards still. As if, like the sun’s ray, I could pierce the very matter that doth linger above, breaking through the boundary ‘twixt sea and air. The light was so bright it blinded me for a moment, and mine gills were flooded with cold, dry aether. The sound grew loud and wispy, as though I could hear no longer the low distant rumbles of the sea, but the sharp, airy sounds near to mine own otoliths.”
The drawing fades into the next and the lines are barely discernible making it hard to ascertain much detail. You can just about make out the fish, splashing out of the sea with drips of water flying around the frame, the fish is twinkling in the light.“Water ran off of me as I hung by the hook, in this new-found arid world. Slowly, I spun upon the line, trying to take in my surroundings: a sea bed with no sea. Just the bed—dry, made up of sand, with weed upon it. But not seaweed. Nay, just weed. I spun more straining mine eyes and there, upon the ground, stood a creature, staring at me.”
The next drawing is of a middle aged man dressed in tatty linen holding a simple hand rod from which a fish dangled on the line. He is stood on the edge of the sea crouching over inspecting the fish. Around him on the ground are some shrubs and rocks, and in the background, the indefinite outline of a small shack in the distance.
“After this, I canst recall naught. I know not whether I was struck upon the head or if mine own subconscious hath barred this memory from me, but I awoke once more upon the sea-bed, as if naught had changed. Yet, indeed, it had... And not only the fresh scar, which I could feel with mine tongue upon mine inner cheek.”
The image fades into another image, darker with heavy pencil marks. The drawing depicts the fish on the sea bed, squinting as if deep in thought.
"For I could not return to mine old ways now. I still beheld the image of what I doth believe to be mine own reflection in the surface each time mine eyes did close. How doth this morphing mirror function? Magic, perhaps? And another thing did plague my mind: The minnow I did lunge for and ensnare with mine sharp teeth, what was it? Nay, not a common minnow at all. Some sorcerer, perchance? An illusionist who hath truly mastered his craft. Now, I used to call myself a master of disguises. A title not easily earned. From the days when I was but a tender fingerling have I honed mine camouflage, that I might master the cunning art of disguise, rearranging the patterns and hues of mine scales to match the sea-bed and vanish into naught, yet nay. In comparison, mine own skill is but jest. This conjurer hath fooled me utterly. I would practice mine camouflage in the days to come. Whilst feeding, I paid particular heed to mine body, testing new hues and patterns in a simpleton’s naive attempt to understand the magician’s trickery. I had just nestled myself into a spot, partially buried in the sand of the sea-bed, ready to wait for a passing morsel of food, when mine thoughts drifted back to my reflection. Since that encounter, I couldst think on naught else. I strained mine eyes, striving to focus on the surface above me, in the distance. Such a vast expanse, I thought. A barrier, keeping all of us sea-dwellers in and all from beyond it out, save for the sun’s rays, of course.”
An image similar to before operating as an extreme wide angle shot showing the sea’s surface at the top of the frame and the bed at the bottom. The small flounder is depicted as a small dot on the sea bed. The pencil marks are a little darker again.
"In the time since I was pulled to the surface, the sea’s hue hadst changed, aye, subtly. It was no longer as clear as before, but hath taken on a yellowish-greenish tint. Until then, I had not noticed this change, being so engrossed in thoughts of the surface and the minnow imposter I had met. But as I strained my gaze toward the surface, the change in hue caught mine eye. Had this happened gradually? I recall not aught of there being a swift change in colour. I pondered on this for a time, and then, without warning, a booming voice did sound from above.” “Flounder, Flounder in the sea, come I pray thee, here to me, for my wife good Ilsabil, wills not as I’d have her will”. This did marvel me at the first. Might this be the very surface that spake unto me, a simple flounder? Who is this Ilsabil? And what folly doth it utter? I bethought me to swymme up unto the surface and learn of it mine own self. Leaving the solace of the seabed behind, I shook off the clinging grains of sand and set forth upon another ascent, yet this time of mine own will.”
The next image is a drawing of the fish, mid-twist motion, to show it changing from being horizontal on the sea bed to vertical and beginning to swim upwards. There are rough sketchy lines drawn possibly representing movement.
“I ran my tongue o’er the scar within mine inner cheek, where the cruel hook had made its wound afore. Well-nigh healed. Midway to the surface, mine mem’ry of mine first ascent came upon me, and I did recall how I beheld a shape above, growing in size as I drew nigh. I strained mine eyes, and lo, there was the selfsame shape once more, yet now less clear, perchance owing to the strange yellow-green hue the water had taken on. Still it grew, and as before, the sun’s rays did pierce the surface and blind me for a moment’s time, and there it was again, that same sweet catharsis whereof I am so fond. I slackened mine fins and tarried a little, that mine eyes might re-adjust and I might fix mine sight upon the form above. And as before, I saw the shape of a common flounder, much like unto mine own self. The dorsal fin, the pectorals, the tail, with its slight cleft. His scales, browny-grey, shimmered beneath the smiting rays of the sun. He gazed upon me, and I upon him. I swamme warily forward, and as I drew nigh, he too seemed to grow in size.”
The next image depicts one fish facing upwards and another directly above it facing downwards, almost touching each other. Again the pencil lines are darker than before but there are strong rays of light spilling over the scene shown by the use of negative space.
“We halted, our mouths but a breath apart. There we hung, two flounders, still as stone—one within the sea, the other, by what sorcery I knew not, held fast within the very skin of the surface. My mind reeled at the sight. I bethought me then—if this flounder be but mine own likeness, then am I alone, gazing into the surface. The sun’s rays grew ever stronger, and mine eyes did struggle to abide their brightness. The surface did waver and pulse, and the flounder-twin moved with it. I closed mine eyes against the hardship and swamme cautiously upward, piercing the surface once more. I thrust forth mine head, and once again was I blinded by the sun’s cruel beams. As mine eyes did strive to adjust, I began dimly to make out the shadow of the selfsame creature I had seen ere now, bending over me. Then, naught.”
The image fades quickly into the next. The pencil lines are darker again. This drawing depicts a murky sea bed from above, with two small eyes just visible centre frame. There is more floating debris around the bed than in the previous images.
“I awakened upon the sea-bed, as ere this, with no reck’ning of how I came thither. Partly was I sunken in the sand, mine scales already taking on the hue of the seabed. Had I been struck upon mine head? Or had I but forgot mine own descent from the surface? Might that creature be the very sorcerer himself in his truest form? Did the surface blind me with the sun’s rays by its own will, that I might be kept from learning its secrets? Such were the questions that plagued me for many days. I lay deep in thought, scarce heeding aught else. I kept mine body hidden upon the sea-bed, feasting but sparingly upon the minnows, worms, and crustaceans that chanced to drift into mine reach but, in truth, I was elsewhere. My mind spun ever upon contemplations of trickery, of semblance, of form and of matter. Of mirrors and reflections, of light and hue. How, in all mine years, had I never stayed to ponder the nature of that which I gazed upon each waking day? And now, lo, it consumed mine every thought. So deep was I in mine own musings that I marked not at first the sea’s strange changing of colour. Where erewhile it had been of a yellow-greenish cast, now it darkened unto a purpled hue, deep blue laced with grey and thick as unchurned silt. This did trouble me, for never in all mine years had I heard tell of the sea shifting to such a shade. Yet still was I more beguiled of mine own thoughts on the surface.”
The image fades into another with darker pencil lines again. The fish is harder to make out in this image. It is a small distant form nested in a dark looking sea. There is lots of debris floating around.
“Upon a day, came once more that great voice from above, ringing through the darkened waters:“Flounder, flounder in the sea, come, I pray thee, here to me, for my wife good Ilsabil, wills not as I’d have her will.” And I did not tarry. I shook free of the clinging sand and drift and made swift mine ascent. Upward I went, seeking the truth of it. The waters were thick and dim, the flounder-shape above me half-beshrouded, yet the sun's rays did still manage to pierce the surface and catch mine eyes, though not as mightily as afore. They seemed to labour to shine forth in the thick, purple-grey water. My flounder friend likewise appeared changed; he was less readily discerned than in times past, and bore a weariness—gaunt, as though he had naught eaten for many days. We swymme towards one another, I ascending, he descending, and both did shut our eyes tight ere our meeting.”
The image fades into another, two fish in a pose similar to before, one above the other facing each other but they both look skinnier and withered. Beams of light cut through the dark shading.
“Eyes squinted, I once more pierced the surface with mine head; the low rumbles faded away, and my otoliths were filled with the keen, clamorous air of the world above. Mine eyes were inundated with light, blinding me utterly. I blinked fiercely, and in the white glare could scarcely make out the silhouette of the creature from afore.”
The image fades into another: a white page almost blank with very subtle light pencil markings as if applied with a finger tip. The markings make out a rough form of a person but they are so light they are almost indistinguishable.
“I came to on the sea-bed, deep submerged in the sands and silt, having to strive mightily to free myself.”
The image fades quickly into the next: Another dark drawing, busy with pencil markings. The markings are harder now and look as though they have been made with pressure, breaking the graphite and denting the paper in places. There are dark scribbles and smudges that speckle the page. The drawing could be depicting a sea bed but it is hard to say.
“Mine thoughts were in utter disarray; I could fix mine mind on naught, for my brain did spin in ceaseless circles for many days—haunted by the image of that other flounder and the pulsating surface. I mused restlessly upon artifice, upon the sun’s rays, the surface, and upon guise; on refraction, sorcery, illusion, and substance. I mayhap had eaten, or mayhap not—naught can I now recall. Many days passed before I took notice of a foul, putrid stench, which I had inhaled unwittingly. Surveying mine surroundings, I perceived it was the very sea-water itself; it had shifted its hue once more to a dark grey. I knew not how many days had elapsed since it assumed this state, for I was so enwrapped in mine own thoughts, so deep in contemplation, that I nearly missed the next booming call from above: "Flounder, Flounder in the sea, come, I pray thee, here to me, for my wife good Ilsabil, wills not as I’d have her will.” I swymme upward as swiftly as mine body could bear me toward the surface, struggling through the thick, foul water; my body ached and pained, yet I cared not. My gaze and attention were fixed upon the surface, and I strained mine eyes as I approache-…"
The sound cuts out and the TV turns off. You notice the faint outline of your silhouette reflected in the now black screen.