Dark Reflections: The Experiences of Human Life

The Experiences of Human Life A Chapbook by Justin Rieth

Introduction I decided to challenge myself with this chapbook assignment. When I write creatively, my natural tendency is to always have a positive overall “vibe” to the work, with clean, bright scenes and a happy ending. More importantly, I enjoy making my readers think about humanity and the experiences that we all share. Unfortunately, I feel like I write in an idealistic fantasy world a little too often, making it hard for the reader to connect with the story because things may not be real enough.

In this collection, I still wanted to make my reader think about various aspects of human interaction. However, I wanted to do this using darker themes, images and tragedies in place of my more traditional, lighter feel. So, each piece in this chapbook has either a predominately dark feel to it or a disastrous ending, or both, hopefully leading the reader to thoughts about some aspect of human experience.

“Gravity’s Truth” is a revisioning of a poem entitled “Jump,” which is based on my own personal experience. It depicts a skydiver’s experience in jumping out of a plane and returning safely to the earth. “Gravity’s Truth” is written from the perspective of the earth’s gravity, personifying this gravity to have a sinister, devious side. Originally, “Jump” was written as a narrative, but I wrote “Gravity’s Truth” in pantoum form in an attempt to depict the never-ending nature of gravity’s desire; each and every time the diver jumps from the plane, gravity longs for disaster to befall him.

The inspiration for “Snap” is a little complicated. Originally, I wrote a creative nonfiction piece based on an experience I had in my childhood. I had been climbing my favorite tree with my younger brother and stumbled upon a mouse’s nest hidden in a hole in the tree. They scared me, and I promptly fell out of the tree. In the original revision of this piece, I wrote the same story from the mouse’s perspective. Snap was a very proper mouse, with her own family of mice babies that she loved and protected. In the revision, Snap is very nasty and bitter, almost breathing darkness into the piece.

“My Captain, My Blood” is a ghazal written from a ship’s perspective about her experience sailing with her captain. I chose this form of poetry because it was originally “used to write about… the mystical aspects of devotion and the pain and longing that comes from lost love.” (Sellers, 334). To more poignantly match the darkness of this chapbook, I chose to write about the moment in which the ship’s love, her captain, is lost to her.

“International Maternity” was by far the most difficult piece for me to write because for some reason, I couldn’t think of a good way to do so without inventing some details of the story. It is a revision of a piece of creative nonfiction about my experience attempting to fly out of Mexico after having accidentally entered the country illegally. This revision is much shorter than the original, which was a challenge in and of itself; it was hard to decide which material to cut and which to keep because I loved it all. I also ramped up the darkness throughout the main body of the story, only lightening things up toward the end so as to bring the chapbook into line with my more natural style of writing at the end, as well as to more clearly highlight the point of the revision, as described below.

Each of these pieces is designed to make the reader think about a different aspect of human experience. In “Gravity’s Truth,” I wanted to leave the reader with the impression that there are patterns that repeat in life, though they may not repeat in the same way forever. In “Snap,” I wished to show the reader the value of human interaction by confronting them with the prospect of dying alone, unloved. In “My Captain, My Blood,” I hoped to accomplish something similar, though from the opposite end of the spectrum. How much more will we appreciate those close to us if we are forced to contemplate the thought of watching them get ripped away? In “International Maternity,” I showed how communities can span thousands of miles, strengthened by the bonds of shared experiences. We may not always understand each other completely, but we are all humans, sharing more with one another than we might think.

Gravity’s Truth Every time he jumps I long for a failure to slow his descent As I gaze upon such distance I long for a failure to breathe correctly As I gaze upon such distance while outer space surrounds him

To breathe correctly He stops his heartbeat While outer space surrounds him By jumping out to aim for dirt He stops his heartbeat With a lack of breath By jumping out to aim for dirt With his parachute for safety

With a lack of breath Dismayed, I watch him yet again With his parachute for safety As he drifts toward my embrace Dismayed, I watch him yet again Longing for his failure As he drifts toward my embrace Every time he jumps

Snap Snap hated her name more than anything; her father said that it had originally been Nibbles, but when she was a baby, her temper had flared up at the slightest things. As she grew nastier and nastier, her family grew bitter and began to mock her, calling her Snap. Who knew what she would Snap at next? Besides, they said, who would call a terrifying monster of a mouse baby something as cute and cuddly as Nibbles? Perhaps they thought their scorn would make her be nicer, but she had shown them. She had left as soon as possible and never looked back. A solitary S makes an angrier Snap – that, she liked.

She had no reason not to be as nasty as possible. What good would that do her? She loved no one, and wanted no one’s love. The thought of having babies made her cringe; how terribly inconvenient that would be! She would have to share the best hole in the entire tree with a bunch of whiney, hungry brats! No, thank you. Empty, just the way she liked, her hole was deliciously dark and musty. With an entrance facing South, Snap never had to worry about the sun peeking in to blind her with its hot glare. This was ideal, as she especially enjoyed lying on the ledge just inside the entrance, chattering angrily at any bird that dared to set foot on her branch.

Her hole was high up in Slime Tree. Snap reveled in this name, as she had come up with it herself. No one else used it; it was hers, and her feelings about it were the closest thing she knew to fondness. Its branches shone with a sickly layer of slimy mold of such a dark green that it was almost black. The surface was slippery enough that no one ever even tried to climb it. That suited her just fine, as she never had any need for visitors. She herself only left when absolutely necessary, mostly to lick dew from the Slime Tree’s leaves each morning. She bristled at the thought of someone else coming into her home, messing things up from the way that she liked. The very idea made her shoulders hunch forward, the small ruff behind her neck standing up stiffly. No, it was much better to remain as she was, alone and undisturbed in her welcome seclusion.

Just as she was settling down to a banquet of fat green and grey grubs, a whisper of movement came from above. Snap immediately hid her grubs, scuffling dirt on top of them and packing it down with hurried paws. She crouched there momentarily, feeling the burgeoning anger begin to press against her chest.

Someone was scuffling around outside, on her branch! Oh! She would tell them a thing or two! Such disrespect! Why couldn’t everyone leave her alone and stay on their own branches outside their own holes? Glaring up along the greasy walls of her pit, she saw something enormous squeeze through the opening to her nest. It looked like a turtle that had lost its shell, only instead of a head and legs it had five stiff, fleshy worms sticking out from its edges. A wide protuberance extended out back through her opening.

Without wasting another instant, she scrabbled up the slippery side to her familiar ledge, lunging from there to sink her razor-sharp teeth into the intruder’s squishy back. The reaction was immediate: red blood welled up around her mouth, soaking her face and arms as the enemy began to thrash about, smacking her ruthlessly into the walls. She held on, and suddenly the harsh light was surrounding her, making her squint as she was plucked up and held in midair by her furious ruff. There was a dizzying rush of air as she rose dramatically and found herself face-to-face with the most horrible monster imaginable. A terrible thunder erupted from its mouth.

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Dark Reflections: The Experiences of Human Life