THE UNDERGOING A DESCENT NARRATIVE
ARCH 246
BILL CM TANG 20727747
1 2 3 4 5
A FANTASY OF FLIGHT
THE FREEDOMTO SET FIRE
THE COSMIC CAVERN
AWATERYWHEEL
ETHEREALTHREADS
1
PART 1
A FANTASY OF FLIGHT
He sat now soundly in the seat he was assigned, bored, but pleased that he’d boarded his plane without trouble and on time. He took out his phone hoping to hear from back home in Markham: He missed his mother, but more so, his girlfriend; His focus, til now, had been fixed on work. Daniel was a talented boy, at twenty-one, though young in years, his youth had yielded him much in achievement, and maturity in judgement. His studies had took him to the studios of Waterloo where he’d laboured learning the art of Architecture from professors, to perfect both form and function in design. His zeal deserved him notice: his earnest work and expert artistry was rare in history, and unrivalled by his peers. His portfolio’d been found by a firm in Manhattan who’d hired him their intern —His hopes were high, his prospects promising. So profitable’d been the term he could afford the fee to fly back home. And the plane was peopled complete and full with someone sitting in every seat, all eager to take off on the August-end flight. With a slight of his finger, he unlocked his phone and was hit with the headlines, hot from the web: Florida Man Flays Face of Unfaithful Lover Trump Triumphs, Reelected President Clintons Killed by Murderous Mob. He ignored that news, knew its contents and moved sine mora to message his mother, before advancing quickly to call Crystal, his girlfriend. She answered at once, anxious to hear her boyfriend’s voice. They conversed about food, domestic musings then memes of the day, planned to meet shortly once he’d appeared at Pearson. As she asked him his reaction to the reelection of Trump
as American president, his speech was impeded— an announcement rang, rudely interrupting his thoughts on the theme. Thinking that the signal, to switch off all phones, had been sent, he rushed to an abrupt goodbye, without speaking more. The annoucement played again, he noted its contents: asked a willing volunteer to exit the plane to make for the airline’s agents some room, and offering a refund for their charity and troubles. Daniel did nothing sat nodding his head, looked away out the window— though unwilling himself, certain that someone would cede their seat. The airline again urged the travellers to action but their calls were ignored. The inaction was met with impatience from the airline, eager to depart as schedueled, they scanned the voyagers for a victim: someone unsteady in strength, whose stock was tame, with no well-connected network nor innate protections to shield them assuredly from their shaky demands with leverage of the law or delusion of the press. So they tasked an attendant to petition Daniel— that the youth be so sensible as to yield his seat. He stared back stunned, steeped in bewilderment. But realizing its reality, he invoked his rights, rebuked their abuse, and their immoral business. But despite his protests, the airline grew impatient and only ever more eager to throw out the man. So they directed their drones to drag him unwilling from the airplane, before departing the airport as planned. And amíd the fracas, though filled with fear all his fellow travellers held their tablets and phones quietly recording his curious struggle.
2
PART 2
THE FREEDOMTO SET FIRE
As he sulked in his cell, captured by security for his bold disobedience against the abuse of the airline, the afternoon calm had crumbled with the evening as partisan protests appeared at the terminals to channel their distress at Trump’s re-election. They occupied the airport hoping to terminate its activities and send a certain signal of their virtuous desires. From the silence of his cell, he sensed no disturbance, as Daniel sat weary wanting to call home or contact a lawyer, but his legal requests were unjustly rejected. Though his rights were denied, the protests persisted, singing chants in gathered rings as they grieved the outrage, and hoped to summon to humanity a more harmonious state. Though peaceful in the evening, they grew implacable with night and rose to a riot, as their rage overflowed them. Some flooded into the cells and freed all those detained while security stayed back, stood idle, as ordered. He realized too late the reason of his release, seeing the broken glass and breaches of property. So though freed from his cell, he forfeited much of his belongings and luggage, save his laptop-bag, his backpack and wallet as he broke away, eager to exit the airport, its anarchy. He hurried through the halls of stores destroyed, and passed by some protesters appareled in black, a fervent field of furious people full of belief, unfaltering in their cause: a dream of justice, and to engender the world with their ideal ideas. As Daniel ran in panic, fleeing on foot, he saw flash on a screen the hourly news from CNN:
outrage on the streets, a storm of protests against Trump’s administration: to have chose him was treason. And as footage of some riots flooded the screen— all zealous resentment live from those cities, an airport agitator attacked the screen, and launched shards of the vision shattering to life. He ran for the doors, dodging those dangers which flew unsuppressed— imperiled his person and threatened to unthread the thrice-blessed Union; not sure how long before real police would appear, but certain that the army was surely on its way. --
3
PART 3
THE COSMIC CAVERN
He struck out on the streets, which were strangely abandoned and bare of people. Though black with night, the lamps illuminated a lonely city, as Dạniel searched for someone to assist him in his troubles.
that he upfront approached them to ask for their help. He introduced himself, and related his dilemma, then pleaded for assistance. The couple answered kindly, and Nowsikáya, the woman offered him aid, with open arms.
As he hunted the hollow houses for life, he felt a flicker of gloom flash fast in the night then all that was bright broke to black The streets became cruel, struck with doom: chaos its king, crime his command— the people without power to impede his rule. The generating stations were stormed as well.
She told him their aim: to emigrate to Canada. They intended to trade Trump for Trudeau in the north, and avoid the perversion of yet another four years: They had faced the first four, but could brave it no further. Tomorrow they would move, first making for Providence via boat, from where they would drive to Canada; for blockades on the tunnels and bridges from Brooklyn had terminated all traffic. And the terminals at JFK were also occupied in anger, by agitating protests. Their only way out from Long Island was by sea.
But the lights seemed to lift, lazily to the sky as the once shrouded stars, shone-out now visible, and filled the firmament with their faint fluorescence. Daniel stood stunned, his dejection stayed: ‘mong the uncountable stars, he glimpsed a comet, and recognized Orion. Ere the fixed sphere of stars, the moon seemed more luminous with ominous allure. Yet the night was no brighter, but frightful remained, filling Daniel with dread and doubt about fate. So he sat to consider what sad, sad path would extend ahead. And soon he was certain he would cave in these quarters: Queens’d be his grave. Then the stars were scattered, cast from the sky— as quickly as they’d come, they crumbled in a blaze of brightness and humming: the headlight and engine of an oncoming car. There was a couple inside and they stopped by Daniel. Though startled by the suddenness, he felt strangely untroubled, the strangers seemed upright and unthreatening, he thought. And the sight of some people had conferred him enough comfort,
She offered him a spot on the craft and cruise: they would leave to set sail at the first light in the morning but til then he could crash at their country cottage. He accepted, and climbed onto their car, most grateful, and chatted with Nowsikaya and her husband, Henry, both Yale English majors, now yuppie intellectuals, who sipped Starbuck coffee to sustain their stasis. They took interest in his studies. As a student of architecture, they considered him a fellow Bachelor of the Arts, though Daniel was displeased with the idea himself. In fifteen minutes they’d arrived, and emerged from the night to a candlelit cottage, the couple’s abode: he hurried into their house, from the hell-encompassed dark city lanes. The day was soon dead, finished its hours and finite minutes, and exhausted lay Daniel, with no resolve remaining but to dissolve to sleep.
4
PART 4
A WATERY WHEEL
The sea was nearby and a murky mist moped till dawn before erased by Aurora’s cordial arrival. But her authority was short of restoring the grid in New York, and to America, it’s former order. After breakfast, a brief and basic meal they boarded the boat and embarked on their journey, charting a course for Providence, Rhode Island. As they sailed to sea, leaving the land he made out pillars of smoke, in spiraling plumes, blood and fire, above the boroughs of New York. But the journey was enjoyable, without dread or worry. So safely at sea, a session commenced between the couple to examine the causes of chaos from Trump’s retriumph: Impassioned moaning in a rant about the rancid state of the States. Daniel squatted on deck, scanning the sky, which was blue and beautiful, bright with the sun, but saw a strip in the distance, of dark rain clouds— a storm was stirring, raging on the horizon. Alarmed he left to alert Nowsikaya, of and columns of clouds which grew ever closer— ill-tempered tempest, catastrophe unforeseen. Yet they remained unmoved, immersed in their bubble, deploring the plebs who had plucked to their baskets so impeachable a president and triggered the riots. Then the sun turned to darkness, smothered by clouds dark and damp with deluge awaiting. The conditions grew dire and Daniel felt the urge to shout first at the couple fighting for their focus then helpless to the heavens as he faced his fate. And at once, thunder cracked the welkin and struck the vessel with violent strength. The clouds followed closely and unleashed their flood
which awakened the waves on the wine-dark sea. The boat broke to boards of battered wreckage barely buoyant in the bursting waters. Daniel clung closely to a column of wood hoping to hold his head above the water. Whipped by the wind and washed by the storm, he called for the couple, but they already had vanished, dissolved to the sea —salt in water. As he battled for breath, beaten by the waves, a tentacle wrapped tightly around his tender thigh and pryed him apart from his supporting plank; he slipped away helpless, slid a slave to the deep, a meagre meal for a monstrous squid. He struggled in vain, striking his captor as his breath escaped him in shrinking bubbles to the surface flotsam. Then suddenly he was freed, the tentacle severed: snapped by the jaw of a shark from the shadows, who, shrewd in his hunt, had stalked to steal— in stealth had waited. And a whale wove by, with it’s mouth opened wide, swimming in hunger to swallow all three. Though it missed by much, it had angered the others, and roused the beasts to a brawl— a battle for dominance. As they wrestled enraged, the wreckage above them, Daniel sank drowning to the depths of the sea— a blackness without end. The bottomless abyss seemed to open its mouth to eat up the youth; but above him came a light, brilliant and bright. He reached for the radiance, grasping for breath but slipped to unconsciousness, silence to take him.
5 PART 5
ETHEREALTHREADS
As he sunk asleep, his psyche wandered and he dreamed a dream, neither joyous nor dreadful, too blurry to look back on, nigh blank in memory. But through the layers of slumber, he could sense reality, and felt a slimey swarm slide swollen around him and the tightening tugs of ethereal threads which gathered together to grab him away drawing him dreaming from the depths to the surface. As he emerged ex mare his mindfulness retook him, but crashed still half-comatose over coaming onto deck. He flopped over confused on a bed of fresh fish which still squirmed to escape as they scrambled for air. The waters of woe drained away from his body and as he coughed up the puddle caught in his core, the essence of air reentered his lungs. He breathed once again, and probed his environs, caught with the cod off the coast of Newfoundland. Four strong fellows stood firmly before him, confounded fishermen, who’d found him in their catch. Their English was odd, its accent heavy, as they talked intrigued and tried to help him. They worried for his wellness, and worked to revive him fully: their efforts were fruitful. And they ferried him back ashore on their ship, the fishing-boat, Iris, where he finally manages to call home again, hopeful he would return home, then to school: the goose-grazed lawns of grassy Waterloo, and downstream, to the stoney streets of Galt...
THE UNDERGOING
BILL CM TANG 20727747