0:00

is not just seeing something approach.

0:02

Horror is whispering in your ear. Right

0:05

now. Welcome to

0:07

Pseudopod, where adult content and

0:09

horrific situations are in the

0:11

room waiting for you. Pseudopod

0:17

Episode 973.

0:19

April 25th, 2025. This

0:22

week's stories, plural, flash

0:25

on the borderlands 73. Perpetuation.

0:28

The stories include Shallow Fangs by

0:30

David Marino, narrated by Ben

0:32

Phillips, Dlean by Lyns McLeod,

0:35

narrated by Cat Day, The

0:37

First Mrs. Edward Rochester would like

0:39

a Word by Laura Blackwell, with

0:41

narration by Eve Upton, and

0:43

POV. I'm the Dead Wife in

0:45

Your Flashback by Cyrus Amelia Fisher, with

0:47

narration by The Word Hall. Hosted

0:50

by Alistair Stewart. Audio production

0:52

by Chelsea Davis. Welcome

0:54

to Pseudopod, the weekly horror podcast, and

0:57

to our 73rd Flash on the

0:59

Borderlands anthology. This week's

1:01

sub -quote is from Blue by Fine Young

1:03

Cannibals. It's making life

1:05

a misery. You would have taken the liberty. Our

1:08

first story this week is Shallow Fangs

1:11

by David Marino. David is

1:13

a graduate of the Clarion Writers

1:15

Workshop, an MFA student in Sarah

1:17

Lawrence's speculative fiction programme and a

1:19

member of the SFWA. His

1:21

work has been published in Lightspeed,

1:24

Escape Pod, and Small Wonders, among

1:26

others. He lives in New York City. Our

1:28

narrator for this is the actual

1:30

Pseudopod original, the one, the

1:32

only, the amazing Mr. Ben Phillips. This

1:35

story has a content warning for second person

1:37

narration, and so with that in mind, do

1:39

get ready to have your fangs bared. Because

1:42

the truth of this story is you're

1:44

hungry. Everyone's hungry. And

1:47

we all feed on something. Shallow

1:55

Fangs by David

1:57

Moreno Narrated by Ben

1:59

Phillips Finally

2:02

worked up the courage to see me, huh? Don't

2:06

worry. Just because I can't suck your blood

2:08

doesn't mean I will. And

2:10

it's not like you can't. Humans have all

2:12

the teeth and tongue to do it too.

2:14

My fangs make the puncture a bit easier,

2:16

but my throat is no different from yours. Of

2:19

course I've had some, but so have you. You

2:21

never sucked your finger after a paper cut. Lukewarm

2:24

tea, hint of iron. Blood

2:27

tastes mid. Doesn't keep me alive

2:29

any longer than normal. Like

2:31

you, I can go out into the sun. I

2:34

just burn easy. You'll have to go

2:36

elsewhere if you want to cosplay some gothic

2:38

fantasy. You came

2:40

to me because you

2:42

want to be pruned. Because

2:45

the fangs do drain, yeah. And

2:48

mine are sharp, see? But

2:50

what they drain? Hell, that's

2:52

up to you. Of all the

2:54

lore, the realist part is the bit

2:56

about needing to be invited inside, but

2:58

biology doesn't give a shit about deeds

3:00

or rental agreements. Your body is your

3:03

home, and you'll have to give me permission to

3:05

come in and take. Take

3:07

what? Whatever you

3:09

can imagine, love. Say

3:13

you're a supermodel. Or, rather,

3:15

say that you say you want

3:17

to be a supermodel, but you've never

3:19

been on Vogue or walked for

3:21

Balenciaga. Say your hungry is shit

3:23

and starving yourself and doing endless

3:25

crunches above. Say bookers keep

3:27

cutting you, telling you you're cute

3:29

but you don't have the look. Say

3:32

you know what they mean is you're a

3:34

size two when you need to be a

3:36

size zero. Say that your life would be

3:38

a little easier if you were just a little bit

3:40

less hungry each morning. Say

3:43

I bite you. Say your hunger

3:45

tastes like stale air and

3:47

styrofoam. Then you do wake a

3:49

little less hungry. pretty little

3:51

thing. Oh, your body

3:53

still needs that avocado toast, but you won't

3:55

crave it anymore. And you'll

3:57

still be starving yourself, but at least the

3:59

hunger pangs will go away. And you'll

4:01

be tired all the time and

4:03

not understand why, but maybe you'll be

4:05

on L for a month's worth of

4:08

waitressing tips because I don't come

4:10

cheap. Would it be

4:12

worth it? But

4:14

that's obvious Vampire as metaphor

4:16

for vampiric capitalism as expressed

4:18

the reading disorders and body

4:21

commodification tale as old as

4:23

time See you aren't being

4:25

creative enough. It's about hunger

4:27

what you want and what

4:29

you want to get rid of Well

4:32

parasitic us vamps all we

4:34

can do is remove

4:36

edit if you're being generous So let's

4:38

play out a reverse scenario one I

4:41

helped with last March Picture

4:43

a lawyer. Not

4:45

that one. A girl one. Blonde,

4:47

pants suit, lovely pair of tits, even if they're

4:49

not really my thing. So lovely, she's

4:51

got a stalker she can't shake. She

4:53

gets cat called daily. Boys and girlies all

4:55

whipping their heads around to stare. If

4:58

she were our model from example A, she

5:00

might love this. Revel in her power. But

5:03

a lawyer gal just wants to focus

5:05

on the law, not on how

5:07

clients, judges, and jurors all want to

5:09

fuck her. Alas, I've not found

5:11

the culture's jugular, so instead of draining

5:13

its sexism, I sucked out a

5:15

little of her oranges and cream beauty.

5:18

Now our lawyer gal is another face in

5:20

the crowd. You could pass her

5:22

on the street a dozen times and never notice

5:25

her once, until she sues you

5:27

for malpractice. Last

5:29

example before we get to brass tax. Imagine

5:32

an activist. Marching

5:35

when he gets time off from

5:37

his non -profit job, he protests the

5:39

latest police injustice at home, the

5:41

latest genocide abroad. He

5:43

calls his congressman and senators, sets up

5:45

phone banks, canvases, gets out the vote,

5:47

even manages to convince some strangers to

5:49

vote for the less bad war criminal.

5:52

He's out there fighting the good fight.

5:54

Is he making a difference? Ha!

5:56

Have you looked outside? Do you

5:58

feel like things are getting better? And

6:01

our hero is empty. Worn and

6:03

beat down and exhausted. Poor

6:06

too. Don't forget poor. He'd

6:08

sell out if he could live with the guilt of

6:10

turning his back on all those in need. So,

6:14

he asked me to take a little of his

6:16

hope. One of

6:18

the better tastes, hope. Like a

6:20

pink starburst. I put my teeth in

6:22

his throat and when he left the chair

6:24

you're sitting in, he also left behind

6:26

that better world he always dreamed about. Now

6:29

he makes 150k a year in

6:31

PR. Not sure he's

6:33

happier, but he's no longer crying

6:36

when he watches CNN now. He

6:38

only sees what he needs to

6:40

make Toyota more money But you

6:42

let's get a

6:44

look at you Embarrassed that's

6:46

how you look hmm

6:48

why ah

6:50

There's something my

6:52

examples and you don't share

6:55

isn't there Could

6:57

it be that you're working

6:59

a dead -end job maybe you

7:02

Went to a university no one

7:04

has heard of with a degree in

7:06

something no one gives a shit

7:08

about Saddled with debt for schooling you

7:10

only bothered with because everybody else

7:12

told you you had to yeah That's

7:15

right, and you don't have the ambition of

7:17

the others do you? No drive

7:19

to get your bag no artistic

7:21

endeavor you're willing to suffer for not

7:23

even a hot butt you want

7:25

to fuck now you or a cog

7:27

in the economic machine and

7:29

you aren't even playing the lottery, metaphorical

7:31

or literal to get free, but

7:34

you're restless because we

7:36

keep telling you to strive and all you want

7:38

to do is function. Well,

7:42

I do love the

7:44

Dr. Pepper Tang of discontent.

7:47

So what do you say, little cog? Want

7:50

me to make sure you fit the machine snug and tight?

8:02

Robert Eggers adaptation of Nosferatu

8:04

arrived earlier this year, and

8:06

it's excellent. I struggle

8:08

a little with how definitively manned

8:10

Eggers movies are sometimes, but when

8:12

they land, they really land, and

8:14

Nosferatu is possibly his best. A

8:17

big part of that is how good the script

8:19

is, and this line from Count Orlock has lived in

8:21

my head ever since we saw it. I

8:23

am an appetite. Nothing

8:26

more. The self

8:28

-awareness in that line is what haunts

8:30

it and me. And now

8:32

it has a companion ghost, thanks to

8:34

this story. All we

8:36

can do is remove. The

8:38

idea of a vampire that can

8:40

feed on anything is elegantly brutal. I

8:43

love and hate the idea of the

8:45

sacrifice of hope that we see touched

8:47

on here. I love more and hate

8:49

even more how much happier that character

8:51

seems to be. The

8:53

thing about food chains is they're chains,

8:56

and we're all tied to them. The

8:58

idea, especially in this unusually hellish

9:00

period of history, of finding

9:02

release and happiness in the death of

9:04

dreams. Well, two years

9:06

and counting into everything I'm trained to

9:08

do, being fed into grey goo

9:10

thief machines, run by billionaires just furious

9:13

that we aren't dying fast enough

9:15

or thanking them loudly enough, that has

9:17

rather more resonance than I ever

9:19

wanted it to. The

9:21

horror there, is horror

9:23

here. Next

9:25

up is Dlean by Linz McLeod. Linz

9:28

is a queer, working -class Scottish writer

9:30

and editor who dabbles in the

9:32

surreal. Her prose has been

9:34

published by Apex, Catapult, Pseudopod, The

9:36

Razor, and many more. Her

9:38

work includes the short story collection To

9:40

Duckin' from Bear Creek Press, 2022, and

9:43

her debut novel, Beast, from

9:45

Brigid's Gate Press, 2023. She

9:47

is a full member of the SFWA and

9:49

can be found via her website, LinzMcLeod

9:51

.co .uk, and now would be a good

9:53

time to recommend checking the show notes

9:55

for this episode as we have links

9:57

for an awful lot of folks

9:59

to external sites and to their bios

10:02

for SudaPod for everyone. Gleen

10:04

previously appeared in A

10:06

Bag of Bones micro -horror

10:08

anthology. Your narrator

10:11

for this week is the amazing Cat Day, who

10:13

says you already know who she is. Find

10:15

her at Blue Sky and again, the link will

10:17

be in the show notes. So,

10:20

the truth is, it's

10:22

time to go to the farm. Glean

10:30

by Linz McLeod, narrated

10:33

by Cat Day. Year

10:37

1 Mum says the

10:39

herd needs to multiply, whether

10:41

they want to or not. Year

10:45

2 Cows don't

10:47

plow well, but they're all

10:49

we have. The old man next door

10:51

traded loads of winter clothes for one

10:53

cow. Mum laughed and said the

10:56

guy was thinking with his pin bone. But

10:58

I didn't get the joke. Year

11:02

three. Mum let

11:04

me pick the straws to choose which cow

11:06

she slaughtered. I thought it would

11:08

feel easier that way. But

11:11

it didn't. Three

11:13

cows died of the flu last month.

11:16

We had to burn their bodies. Year

11:20

four. They

11:22

trust me because I sneak them extra

11:24

feed. Now

11:26

that I'm older, I'm allowed to groom them.

11:29

They get scared easily, but they seem

11:31

to like my songs, especially Daisy.

11:36

Year five. Mum

11:38

says I have to kill my first cow this year.

11:41

She needs to know I've got the stomach for

11:43

it in case anything happens to her. Year

11:47

six. A cow

11:49

ran away with her calf. Mum

11:52

strung them up in the yard as a

11:54

warning to the rest. The

11:56

herd won't let me anywhere near them now, not

11:58

even Daisy. Last

12:01

time I tried, she bit me.

12:05

Year 7. I

12:07

lied. We never

12:09

owned cows. If

12:16

the first story is about the death,

12:18

or at least the preparation and consumption of

12:20

dreams, then this is about the death

12:22

of innocence. That five

12:24

-word final line, I

12:26

lied, we never owned

12:28

cows, is someone realising they

12:30

aren't the hero of their story and

12:33

they never were. The subversion

12:35

of expectation here is to use

12:37

a deliberately provocative term, delicious.

12:41

The collision between the innocence of

12:43

childhood and the brutal pragmatism of

12:45

farm life is always a place good

12:47

stories grow, but McLeod finds another level

12:49

of subtlety and nuance and terror

12:51

here and tells us that they have

12:53

in just two words. I

12:56

lied. It's

12:58

not that the wool was pulled over the lead's eyes, it's

13:01

that they put it there themselves and held it as

13:03

long as they could. We

13:06

tolerate anything that makes our lives easier,

13:08

and while the horror here is

13:10

in that realisation, there's also a scintiller

13:12

of hope in its acknowledgement. Or

13:15

perhaps it's just seasoning. Next

13:19

is the first Mrs. Edward Rochester would

13:21

like a word by Laura Blackwell.

13:23

Laura Blackwell is a Shirley Jackson award

13:25

-winning writer of speculative fiction that usually

13:27

turns out to be horror. Her

13:30

stories have appeared in magazines and

13:32

anthologies including Nightmare, Cat's Cast, Chiral

13:34

Mad 5, and Shirley

13:36

Jackson Award winner Aseptic and Faintly

13:38

Sadistic. She is copy editor

13:40

for The Deadland, and she and

13:42

Daniel Marcus co -host the online reading

13:44

series Story Hour. The

13:47

first Mrs. Edward Rochester would like a

13:49

word first appeared in May 2023

13:51

in Aseptic and Faintly

13:53

Sadistic, an anthology of hysteria

13:55

fiction, edited by Jolie

13:57

Tamargin. This story and

13:59

the anthology it appeared in both

14:01

received 2023 Shirley Jackson awards

14:03

in their respective categories. So,

14:07

get ready for the party of a

14:09

lifetime, in every sense,

14:11

because the truth is, this

14:13

is your home now. The

14:22

first Mrs. Edward Rochester

14:25

would like a word by

14:27

Laura Blackwell, narrated

14:29

by Eve Upton. Ladies,

14:33

thank you all for answering my

14:36

wordless cry across the moors. It

14:38

is difficult to attend, I know,

14:40

when one has been maligned and

14:42

cast aside, and I am grateful

14:44

that your angry spirits had enough

14:46

passion in them to heed my

14:49

call and undertake the journey. Thank

14:51

you as well, I suppose,

14:53

Edward. I'm surprised that you

14:56

came to my ash strewn grave. You

14:58

seldom visited me in the attic. However,

15:02

since you have always believed

15:04

everything is about you, I

15:06

will speak to you first. The

15:09

ghost ladies congregated in this

15:11

ruin, being dead, have

15:13

already waited a long time. You

15:15

still live, and you

15:17

were never good at waiting. You

15:20

loved me in Jamaica, where

15:22

I was in my element, encompassing

15:25

heat, the sense

15:27

of orchid and lignum vitae,

15:29

the full run of a

15:31

grand house, and my fortune. You

15:34

and I seemed equally capricious,

15:36

equally wild in our pursuit

15:39

of pleasure and joy. You

15:41

courted me, married me,

15:44

and then upon knowing my

15:46

teeth as well as

15:48

my soft places declared me

15:50

mad. Rather than leave

15:52

me or my 30 ,000

15:54

pounds you took me to

15:56

England and locked me in

15:58

the attic of your estate

16:00

where you could enjoy free reign

16:03

of my money without even

16:05

looking me in the face.

16:07

Thornfield, you called

16:09

your home, a ludicrous name that

16:11

yet described our marriage perfectly, a

16:14

field that bore barbs instead

16:16

of fruit. For

16:18

years I shivered in the

16:20

attic, desiccating into a frozen husk

16:23

of myself as I dreamt

16:25

of home. You

16:27

took this time to travel

16:29

the continent, spending my

16:31

money dallying where you might

16:33

and with whom you

16:35

might. It gave me

16:37

time to hone the blade of

16:39

my resentment to scheme as I

16:41

stole the occasional knife or candle

16:43

from my jailer. With

16:45

no company but the cold

16:47

and taciturn Englishwoman you hired

16:49

to watch me, I

16:52

thought of where I would dwell

16:54

and whose company I would seek

16:56

when I was free. In

16:58

that chill and loveless

17:00

place, deprived of sun and

17:02

spice, of fragrance and

17:04

flesh, who would not

17:06

go a little mad? You

17:09

have ceased calling me Mrs.

17:12

Edward Rochester. Ah, now that

17:14

you've heard your name, I

17:16

have your drifting attention back.

17:19

As if your name were a gift

17:21

you could take back. I

17:23

will keep it. for I have earned

17:25

it and suffered for it, but

17:27

perhaps I should seek the wisdom of

17:29

my maiden name. I

17:31

was born Bertha and

17:33

Tweneta Mason, and

17:36

what is a Mason but a builder?

17:39

I remember the night the governess

17:41

arrived at Thornfield to teach

17:43

the child you swore was not

17:45

one of your bibles. I

17:48

noticed the young woman not much

17:50

more than a child herself. Entering

17:53

the house like a

17:55

fresh bracing breeze. I

17:58

felt the fire of your

18:00

love, not just for her

18:02

clear pale skin and petite

18:04

figure, before you would call

18:06

her innocence. The

18:08

unworldliness that let her

18:10

believe you to be good.

18:13

For her cleverness, which

18:15

you played with like a puzzle, setting

18:18

for her your little tests to pass

18:20

or fail. for her sense

18:22

of duty, bound to

18:24

bring whatever goodness you might have to

18:26

the forefront, or else

18:28

instill you with her own. My

18:32

jailer seldom spoke to me,

18:34

but I listened at the

18:36

floor and learned that the

18:38

governess was called Miss Air.

18:41

It suited her. Air,

18:44

the element of the mind. She

18:46

is intelligent, no doubt of

18:48

that. And Air,

18:50

like water, takes

18:52

the form of its container. Edward,

18:56

the life you provide for a

18:58

wife is always one of containment, I

19:01

should know. It

19:03

was a pleasure to set

19:05

a fire in that attic. Those

19:07

draughty rooms, rickety and swaying

19:09

at the top of your chilly

19:12

house, became as warm as

19:14

Jamaica, as home. I

19:16

should have built myself tall, reached

19:18

to the sun above instead of

19:20

giving myself into the icy chambers

19:22

of your home and your heart.

19:25

When I destroyed Thornfield, I

19:27

showed your naive bride your

19:29

falseness, your cruelty. With

19:32

the fire raging, I was sure

19:34

to die at Thornfield, but I refused

19:36

to end my life within the walls

19:38

you used to box me in. A

19:41

rescue would have weaned worse yet, your

19:43

arms containing me until I could have

19:45

been locked away again within colder walls.

19:48

That is why I jumped. As

19:51

I fell so briefly in

19:53

the sun again, so briefly beneath

19:55

the blue sky, I

19:57

sent out a prayer, a

20:00

summoning. A cry across the

20:02

moors to all the wives, like

20:04

me, who lived and died

20:06

and loved elsewhere in the world,

20:08

in other times in other

20:10

books. To you,

20:12

mysterious Legia, who refuse to

20:14

be replaced, to you,

20:16

women of Salem Village, hanged

20:19

for your share of firewood, to

20:21

you, Medea, abandoned for a

20:24

princess and made into a

20:26

murderer by a playwright, paid

20:28

to absolve a city's shame.

20:31

I offer this

20:33

place. All you

20:35

wives written over and reduced

20:37

to evil memories, you have

20:39

a home at last. Women

20:41

of fiction. Women of fact

20:43

made fiction. I am here

20:45

for you. All the mad

20:47

wives and monstrous wives who disappointed

20:49

and were disappointed. All

20:51

you who were found wanting

20:53

because you dared to want.

20:57

The iron gate of Thornfield stands

20:59

open to you. Defiant women

21:01

rise from the grand estate of

21:03

ruin and rubble of trees

21:05

emerging through the ash. Let

21:08

Thornfield become a spectral home

21:10

for all the vengeful ghosts of

21:12

ill -used wives. Build

21:14

its rooms with the planks

21:16

from the gallows. Pave its

21:18

floors with our bones. Perfume

21:21

it with the dust

21:23

of wedding bouquets tossed and

21:25

caught with hopes for

21:27

ever unrealized. I am

21:29

a mason. and I

21:31

will build. Ah,

21:34

now I feel a breeze. Someone

21:37

else heard my call from

21:39

across the moors. Miss

21:42

Air, formless child, I

21:44

do not doubt that Edward will try

21:46

to win you back. Although

21:49

it saddens me that you

21:51

should turn your intellect towards justifying

21:53

foolishness, I fear you will

21:55

decide that you are a better person

21:57

if you forgive. Perhaps now

21:59

that the scars I have

22:01

left on Edward's face match those

22:04

he left on my soul, you

22:06

will decide that you are

22:08

insightful enough, pure enough, to

22:10

love him for more than

22:12

the charisma his arrogance gives

22:14

him. Perhaps you will

22:17

trick yourself into believing there was

22:19

ever something more than that

22:21

in him to love. I

22:23

did once. You

22:26

I can forgive. though

22:28

not him. Please

22:31

understand, Miss Ehr, that I

22:33

have never been your enemy. You

22:35

fear me, I know, but

22:37

I have never harmed you and

22:39

never tried. Never did

22:41

I turn on even

22:44

my jailer, but only the

22:46

architect of my prison. The

22:49

first time I escaped the

22:51

attic with a candle in hand,

22:53

I could have set fire

22:55

to your bed, but instead I

22:58

set Edward's aflame. Do

23:00

not look at me so. It is true. The

23:02

last night of my life I tipped a

23:04

candle to your bedsheets, but only because you

23:07

were not there. Had you

23:09

been in that bed, even with

23:11

Edward, I would not have

23:13

done so. Mad I

23:15

may be, impetuous willful, but

23:17

never cruel. Miss

23:20

Air, even you

23:22

are welcome here. should you

23:24

ever decide you wish to

23:26

be your own. As

23:28

for you, Edward, I did my

23:30

best to burn your bed and

23:33

scorch your earth, but

23:35

with my death I relinquish my

23:37

earthly claims on you. If

23:40

your child bride will take you

23:42

back, do right by her if

23:44

you know how. Though

23:46

I have my doubts, perhaps you have

23:48

it in you. I'll

23:50

wait for you in Thornfield,

23:52

where I now walk

23:54

freely. I do

23:57

not know how long I can

23:59

stay, but surely even when

24:01

my ghost fades from this mortal

24:03

realm, wronged wives will gather

24:05

here and learn one another's ways

24:08

of haunting and vengeance, one

24:10

another's ways of warning

24:12

off our would -be successors. There

24:15

are many of us with

24:17

much to teach. Some

24:42

quick story notes from Laura Blackwell. Many

24:44

readers want better for the attic wife

24:46

from Jane Eyre. We see her only

24:48

in a diminished state, and the person

24:50

who tells her story is the man

24:52

who wants to leave her. In

24:54

this, and perhaps only in

24:57

this, she is similar to Demoria's

24:59

eponymous Rebecca. But there have

25:01

been other women whose voices were stolen in

25:03

real life and real death. The

25:05

so -called witches of Salem Village, for

25:07

instance, and the many women whose murderers

25:09

painted them as wanton. Or mad. I

25:13

wanted Bertha Mason Rochester to have not

25:15

just a life story, but an afterlife

25:17

story. and to offer one to other

25:19

women whose stories have been erased or

25:21

co -opted, to bring everyone

25:23

out of the attic, ready

25:25

to shout their truths across the moors. One

25:29

of the pleasures of this job

25:31

is seeing the emotional arc our editors

25:33

plot across these collection episodes. These

25:35

two first excellent dark stories finish,

25:37

like I've talked about, with a single

25:39

step into the light. This

25:41

one continues that journey, and

25:44

continues it with this line. There

25:46

are many of us with much

25:48

to teach. It

25:51

is a horrific thing to realise

25:53

that women listening to the wronged

25:55

ghosts of their murdered predecessors is

25:57

a moment of hope, but horror

26:00

is hope persevering, even after death.

26:03

Especially after death. Finally,

26:07

this week we have POV, I'm

26:09

the Dead Wife in Your Flashbacks by

26:11

Cyrus Amelia Fisher. Cyrus Emilia

26:13

Fisher writes queer tales of shipwrecks,

26:15

mycelium, and horrors of the flesh.

26:18

After years of driving around the United States

26:20

in a beat -up minivan, they finally return to

26:22

the mossy fens of their birth in the

26:24

Pacific Northwest. Now they wail

26:27

away the hours communing with their

26:29

fungal hive mind and writing about cannibalism.

26:31

Naturally, they also love to cook. Your

26:33

narrator for this week's episode is the word

26:35

whore, and this story is a pseudopod original.

26:38

So close your eyes. Because here's

26:40

a story about the truth. about

26:43

stories POV I'm the

26:45

dead wife in your flashback

26:47

by Cyrus Amelia Fisher

26:50

hey babe it's me again

26:52

it's good to see

26:54

your face been a while

26:56

since you've had a

26:59

tragic flashback to us lying

27:01

under the white bed

27:03

sheets on that glimmering Sunday

27:05

morning so your fans

27:08

can remember why you set

27:10

off on this revenge

27:12

quest in the first place.

27:16

Don't freak out, I know. I'm

27:18

supposed to just lie here smiling

27:20

at you. I'm not supposed

27:22

to talk, but honey,

27:25

we need to talk. You

27:28

can't stay long, you never do.

27:31

I'm more effective in clips between

27:33

one to three seconds long

27:35

so the audience doesn't get bored

27:37

before the next round of

27:39

explosions. It's kind

27:41

of a bummer when you have

27:43

to think of me as a

27:46

real actual person who got blown up

27:48

or shot, stabbed, impaled.

27:51

As discreetly as possible, of course,

27:53

so that when you howled over my

27:55

broken body, my tits still looked

27:57

fantastic. That's

27:59

alright. I'm used to it. Being

28:02

carved down to the purest

28:04

distillation of someone else's desire is

28:06

actually kind of my specialty. I'm

28:09

just worried you don't appreciate

28:11

how difficult it is to be

28:13

your smiling dead wife under

28:15

the white bedsheets. I

28:18

know you don't understand. You

28:21

don't even think to be afraid of

28:23

me right now. The soft,

28:25

silent, happy thing that fed and fucked

28:27

you. I always thought I

28:29

was more to you back when I

28:31

was alive. But then you

28:33

put me here, and I started

28:35

to understand. I

28:37

was never really your wife. I

28:41

was your comfort blanket, and your

28:43

microwave meal, and your flashlight all

28:45

in one. All those

28:47

years of marriage, of slow

28:49

digestion, absorbing me into you

28:51

until there was nothing left. And

28:53

now, I'm just your dream.

28:57

Don't you think that's fucked up? If

29:00

someone did that to you, wouldn't you

29:02

learn to hate them for it? Wouldn't

29:05

you want to hurt them from the

29:07

inside the only way you could? Now,

29:11

don't try to turn away.

29:13

You'll hurt yourself. It

29:15

takes a long, long time to

29:17

figure out how to move through

29:19

the frozen amber of this memory.

29:23

But I've been here for long enough. Feel

29:26

me squeeze your hand? Feel

29:28

my fingers tightening on yours

29:30

until the bones shift and ache.

29:33

I know you can't pull away. Doesn't

29:36

it suck when someone does something

29:38

to you and you can't seem

29:40

to make them stop? Just

29:43

lie here, listen to my

29:45

voice, be comforted by

29:48

my smile. This is

29:50

a happy memory. It's only the

29:52

context that makes it rotten. And

29:56

there's just a few more things I

29:58

want to address before we wrap this up.

30:01

Do you even remember what

30:04

morning this is? Which room? I

30:07

don't. How would I

30:09

know when I'm not allowed the

30:11

simple freedom of pulling back the sheets?

30:14

The light never changes. It's

30:17

an annihilating lifeless light,

30:19

white as a nuclear flash.

30:23

It highlights my cheekbones. and the

30:25

perfect makeup I wear to bed. I

30:28

don't sleep. I

30:30

lie awake, waiting for you to

30:32

remember me. Smiling.

30:34

Smiling. Always smiling.

30:38

Have you ever thought about that? Like

30:40

the invocations? Of

30:44

course not. You're too busy

30:46

gunning down the faceless enemies you

30:48

blame for killing me. As

30:51

if I was even a living

30:53

thing by the time you were through

30:55

with me. Hey,

30:57

I know, your hand hurts. Don't

31:00

look at it. Look at my

31:02

face. See how

31:04

happy I look? Why

31:06

don't you try it? Try smiling

31:08

as wide as you can, like

31:10

I am, trapped in your memory

31:13

mid -laugh. Try

31:15

it for five minutes, ten if

31:17

you last that long. I

31:19

guarantee by minute eight you'll feel

31:21

like your mouth is about to

31:23

split clean through your cheeks. Now

31:26

think about how long I've been

31:28

dead for and how long you've

31:30

trapped me in this prison of

31:32

a memory that's pulled wide. What

31:36

did you think I was doing

31:38

whenever you weren't here to look your

31:40

fill? Did you think to

31:42

give me the agency to stop? Yeah.

31:47

You didn't think. But

31:50

it's all dead, babe. Because

31:53

I'm not a person, am I? Just

31:56

the memory of a vestigial limb. Memories

31:59

don't get bored while they lounge

32:01

in a morning -bright room, waiting

32:03

to be occasionally looked at.

32:07

Memories love to be looked at. They

32:10

don't mind the way the bed sheet

32:12

contracts like stomach muscles when their hands

32:14

try to push it back. Memories

32:17

don't get to die. But

32:20

you're here now, and that's

32:22

what matters. Here,

32:24

with me, in this sheet

32:26

you've sewn me into, like

32:28

a burial shroud. In

32:30

this light as white as an

32:32

interrogation room, a factory

32:34

farm killing floor. Smiling,

32:38

silent, trapped, and perfect,

32:41

and rotting. Bazed

32:44

in the eternal

32:46

softness, of your

32:48

uncomprehending idolatry. You're

32:50

here, and this

32:52

time, I'm not letting you

32:55

go. I told

32:57

you not to look at your hand. Hey

33:00

now, don't cry. I

33:02

know it's scary seeing yourself pulled

33:04

into another person, becoming more

33:06

a part of them than you

33:09

are your own self and

33:11

not knowing how to stop it.

33:14

It hurts, doesn't it? I

33:16

wanted to make sure it would hurt.

33:19

And I think I'm going to take

33:21

my time. How

33:26

long were we married? How

33:28

many years? Yeah, let's

33:31

start with that. Not

33:34

like you have anywhere to be. But

33:38

on the plus side, your

33:40

audience won't miss you for long.

33:43

There's always some other grief

33:45

-stricken action hero, some

33:47

other dead wife in her bright white

33:49

cocoon, and you

33:52

will be here

33:54

together. Relax. Stop

33:57

screaming. Just

33:59

lie here under the

34:01

sheet and watch me

34:03

smile. I

34:09

saw the grey at the best and

34:11

worst possible time to do so. It's

34:14

a very simple story. A

34:16

group of oil workers crash in the Alaskan wilderness,

34:18

and the survivors are pursued and picked off

34:20

by a pack of wolves. Liam

34:22

Neeson stars as their security chief,

34:24

who in between keeping them alive, flashes

34:26

back to the exact dead wife

34:29

visual you see here. Brilliant

34:31

white sheets, angelic smile. It's

34:33

a movie that was sold as Liam

34:35

Neeson, Wolf Puncher, because let's face it,

34:37

that's one of the easiest cells on

34:39

Earth. And that happens.

34:42

But to get there, you and the characters

34:44

go through a brutal wilderness that for

34:46

us is a grim survival story, and

34:49

for them is the blank yet

34:51

somehow still hostile wasteland of masculine

34:53

emotion. Nisen's character

34:55

is grieving in a quiet, Celtic way,

34:57

not just his wife, but his inability to

34:59

be anything other than a man who

35:01

stands at the edge of a campfire and

35:03

fights monsters. His piece

35:05

comes not just from the idealised sense

35:08

of who he used to be, and the

35:10

control surrendered by giving your identity to

35:12

someone else to define, but

35:14

from the fact he is ready to stop. He's

35:16

seen his story. He knows

35:18

what sort of protagonist he is, and he wants to

35:21

come out the other side. It's

35:23

emotional awakening and change as teeth

35:25

and claws and death. The

35:27

destruction of the lies we tell ourselves in order

35:29

to hear the truths we need to know. It's

35:32

also a movie where he punches

35:34

wolves and that has the most stereotypical

35:36

depiction of a dead wife possible. I

35:40

mention it here because it's one of those

35:42

stories that lives just outside the campfire in

35:44

my mind. I'm a very

35:46

large Celtic man. I was raised in

35:48

a culture which has a complicated

35:50

relationship to violence, and an even

35:52

more complicated one to emotion. The

35:54

grey was an important part of my

35:57

journey towards a different, healthier relationship. The

35:59

sort the main character here is a

36:01

very long way from, but heading slowly towards,

36:04

and that brings us, perhaps, back to the

36:06

hope I've talked about, slowly

36:08

emerging across these four stories. Whether

36:11

the ghost of their wife is driving them

36:13

there or she's the face that their lizard brain

36:15

is using to get through to them is

36:17

irrelevant. Oddly enough, whether they

36:19

make it is irrelevant too. Because

36:21

the message here is as clear

36:24

as the painful, burning light illuminating

36:26

the dead and the truth. You

36:29

can't live here. Grief

36:31

is a stop, not a

36:33

destination. Even if sometimes

36:35

it feels like one. Little

36:38

Deaths Little steps. Perpetuation

36:41

as the repetition of bad

36:44

cycles and perpetuation as persistence.

36:47

As survival. As

36:49

the thing before hope. Right

36:51

before hope. Keep

36:53

going. Perpetuate. We

36:56

will too. Brilliant work and

36:59

thanks to all. On

37:01

to the subject of subscribing and

37:03

support. SudaPod is funded by you, our

37:06

listeners, and we are now professionally

37:08

a non -profit. I say professionally because

37:10

the script has the word formally. And

37:12

the unfortunate thing about formally is

37:14

that it's spelled F -O -R -M -A

37:16

-L -L -Y, which means professionally, and

37:19

it is pronounced F -O -R -M -E

37:21

-R -L -Y, which means used to

37:23

be. So I'm going to play

37:25

with the language a little bit.

37:27

SudaPod is now black tie a

37:30

non -profit. We'll work shopping it. I'll

37:32

come up with something. One -time

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donations are gratefully received and much appreciated,

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but what really makes a difference

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Patreon donation gives us more than just

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personally am experimenting with Reddit to

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varying degrees of success, whereas the

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I can particularly recommend, given where

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we are right now, the

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one for Pseudopod, which is at

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38:52

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38:54

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38:59

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39:01

No Derivatives, 4 .0 International License. Download

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and listen to the episode on any device

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you like, but don't change it, and don't

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sell it. The music is by permission of

39:10

Anders Manga. Join us next week

39:12

for more true stories. In the

39:14

meantime, Pseudopod wants you to remember. No

39:16

lite, te bustardes, carparundum,

39:19

bitches. An

39:24

arm appeared from nowhere on

39:26

the shape, seemingly projected like

39:28

the pseudo -pod of a

39:30

protozoan. It's a pseudo -pod. It's

39:32

a big foot. It's all

39:34

about podcasts these days.