Sign Language

by JR Godwin

Rita shoulders her backpack and heads up the university stairs. The play the University is putting on is giving me the creeps, she thinks as she walks towards her lecture. Ever since it started there has been graffiti everywhere, this weird looking yellow symbol. Everyone in town is buzzing about the lead actor, a Mr. Aster or was it Mr. Hastern, she couldn't remember. All Rita knows is she hasn't gotten a wink of sleep after reading the manuscript, and her dreams are full of a man in a mask. Weird thing is, she can't remember his face when he takes the mask off, just that she knows he did. Oh man I'm gonna be late, Rita thinks as she picks up the pace. Distracted by her tardiness, she runs straight into a hunched figure clad in tattered yellow robes. "Get out of here you dirty hobo," Rita yells. As the figure turns, his face is a mask, and the mask is the same as the one in her dreams. Rita stares in horror as he begins to remove the mask. All she can hear are the words Dim Carcosa.

Sitting by the docks, "Ashcan" Pete sits in the shade of a tree. He hasn't had an easy time, each day reminding him why he tried to leave this wretched city. Funny thing is, last time he hopped a train to Dunwich, he ended up back in Arkham. Reckon it's bout time me an' Duke find a place to hole up for awhile, he thinks. Calling in his dog, Pete ambles off towards Ma's Boarding House to sit tight and wait for all this nonsense to calm down. As he walks off, a flyer blows up off the street into his hand. Glancing at it, all that appears to be on it is a strange yellow sign. Enough of this weirdness, I don't care what this means. I just want to be left alone.

Walking down these long hallways is enough to give me a heart attack, thinks Carolyn as she finishes her rounds at Arkham Asylum. Every so often a patient jumps up and grabs at her as she walks by. So many afflictions, how can we hope to save them all? She pulls out her keys and unlocks the door leading to her office. As she walks in and flips the light she notices her desk is turned over. She races to the opposite side and sees all her notes are gone. As she turns, her foot catches the cord on the lamp, and she falls to the floor. Putting a hand on the upturned desk to help lift her up, she sees a carving has been etched all over the desk. That was the sign my last patient in Providence told me about. Carolyn stands up and heads for the door, determined to get to the bottom of whatever that sign means.

Taking a slug from the bottle at his hip, Wilson sizes up the town he has come to hate. When I heard there was work here, I thought that sounded pretty darn good. Man was I wrong. I been chased by things I thought were only fairy tales, and I fought off things with more eyes than fingers. Only fella I met here worth talking to was Pete, and who knows where he and Duke got off to. Wilson hops on his motorcycle and makes ready to leave. A passerby catches his arm, and hands him a ticket. "What's this for," he asks. "Well you fixed my fence so well, this is a reward for you. The famous King In Yellow play is being performed tonight at the University, and I got you a ticket." "That's mighty kind of you, but I ain't a play-going fella most of the time." "Nonsense, I insist you go. I will see you there at 8 sharp." Wilson looks at the ticket and tries to figure out the weird shape on it. Why not, I guess I can go see a show before heading out.

Find other articles and fiction on the Design Notes page.