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A Moment’s Clarity



Estimated reading time — 6 minutes

When Anita found him, her immediate reaction was to put him in the foyer next to the stairwell so he could be decorative. Not everyone would have one, and the way his arms stuck out just so would make him a suitable hat rack. She realized, almost too late, that this might have been in bad taste. But what, she thought, was a woman supposed to do when her husband went and turned into a glass statue overnight?

She had heard of this happening, of course. It just seemed to happen to other people; one day they were perfectly normal and then the next, someone found them frozen. Clear. She had heard of it, but had never seriously considered it happening to her. The people this happened to were far too glamorous; celebrities and the like. Certainly not to him. She was a widow now. That made her feel old at thirty-seven years and she was sure she didn’t like it.

After a week she quietly filed a mortician’s report and sat down to a cup of hot tea. She hadn’t broken it to his family yet, though his sister had been calling. She told her he was away on business. There was no reason to tell them yet. The Quentins could wait another day to hear their little boy wasn’t okay. At that very moment it occurred to her that using her husband’s remains as a hat rack might be poorly received by the general public.

And so Anita began the difficult task of finding a place for him. At first she kept him to the study, in front of the fireplace. He kept her company with her tea. But soon she began to find that sitting with the countenance of her dead husband reminded her of her widowhood, so she moved him to the garden and used him to scare the crows away from her tomatoes. He did little to dissuade the crows, however, and soon became their favorite perch. Finally, she hauled him to the attic. She kept the rest of her glass figurines there, and didn’t see why he should be treated any differently.

Somehow, it all seemed normal at the time. Everywhere you looked someone was at it. The glass bodies seemed to multiply. When she called her husband’s mother and told her, tearfully, that he had passed away, she burst into hysterics and told her that so had one of the grandchildren.

Anita was uncomfortable, and then she hung up.

When the man who cut her lawn succumbed as well, she began to worry. Now it was affecting her everyday life, which was something her husband and niece had not generally been part of. Her husband worked constantly and usually slept when he graced her with his presence. Her niece, whose name she couldn’t even remember, lived in Florida.

She put entirely too much sugar in her tea and shivered as she drank it. She did miss her husband. Sometimes. And now she would have to trim her own lawn.

Her first hint that something might have been a bit off was when she found her neighbor, frozen solid while pulling the weeds in his yard. The next day, while shopping for groceries the bag boy, with a crackle, transformed, still clutching her biscotti. She tenderly wrenched it from his grip, glanced around halfheartedly, and didn’t pay.

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Then the news reports began to get very tiresome. First it was strange, isolated events. Then it was an epidemic, then a pandemic, and then it was Susan Shepherd reporting to you live from New York City and…crackle.

Ting.

Suddenly, she wasn’t reporting. Suddenly, she wasn’t even alive.

There was panic after that, and lootings and riots, or so Anita saw on the news. She kept to herself these days. Her sister hadn’t called in weeks. She half expected her to be found, phone in hand, sitting at her kitchen table, never to move again. A week later, the police confirmed her suspicions: her sister was found not at the phone but in bed. Three relatives now dead, Anita found in horror that she had run out of tea bags.

It had been months since Anita found her husband, and her lawn was long. The four houses around hers couldn’t claim a single opaque resident. She’d taken to not leaving the study for days on end, sitting by the fire with her tea while her husband sat in the attic, staring at a wall. He wasn’t needed in the yard anymore, not since the neighbor had frozen there. Anita came to miss him in the study, but he tended to alienate visitors, of which she found she was having less and less these days.

At first, she’d gotten dozens of calls for funerals of her husband’s mother, friends, old boyfriends, but soon even the funerals died off. There were too many to throw.

The television only worked sporadically, and when it did it showed news. It told her to lock her doors and windows. It told her there were people who thought this would pass. People who were trying to take things from those who had turned, so they would be wealthy when they and the rest of humanity came out the other end. It used the word anarchy a lot.

The futility of the this did not escape Anita, but when the looters came, as the news assured her they would, she thought the best way to be rid of them, and quickly, would be to set out a plate of lemonade for them and to point them in the direction of the attic, where she kept an odd assortment of expensive-looking things that had, at one point, been her grandmother’s. That, she thought, would keep them happy while she kept to the study with her husband, for she hadn’t had use for the china in years, anyway. It annoyed her, though, when they woke her up in the middle of the night.

Roland had robbed a lot of houses, before and after it became commonplace, but thought that few had ever looked as empty as this one. He received a terrible shock when Anita spoke.

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“Hello,” she said, wiping sleep from her eyes with one hand and holding a candle in the other. “Attic’s that way.”

Roland had been greeted many ways upon entering a house he planned to rob. This was not one he was used to.

“I’m going to have some tea,” she said, and began walking slowly away. Roland’s mind reeled for a moment, and then he set off for the attic.

In the kitchen, Anita sleepily sipped Earl Gray when Roland trudged down the stairs with a sack over his shoulder and came upon her. He stopped mid-step and looked at her carefully.

“All those people up there…”
“The glass ones?”
Pause. Sip.
“Yeah, the glass ones,”
“What about them?”
Sip.
“Why did you-“
“Think of it as a sort of a tomb.”
Roland decided he’d stay.

Anita mistrusted him at first but soon found it was a great relief just having him around. She was running low on food and it really was lovely to have someone to break into a grocery store with. As much as she knew how low the chances were of her finding anything dangerous, the lonely streets seemed much less so with a companion. He tended the garden, collected rain water for drinking and bathing, and even sometimes sat with her by the fireplace, sharing a seemingly endless stockpile of tea with her,

“We’re going to run out of food, you know.” Roland mentioned. “Even just between the two of us, there’s only so long that that store will hold out.”

Anita shrugged and stared into her tea. Even she had to admit the great mound of canned goods they had made in the grocery was beginning to run low. Her eyes settled on the fire and it was a moment before she answered. “So what do you suppose we should do?”

Roland shrugged. “I don’t know. Leave?”

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Anita didn’t answer.

After two weeks, they had eaten nearly all of the food they had brought back from their last trip to the store and agreed, Anita a little grudgingly, that they would keep walking after this next trip to the grocery and see where it led them. There was nothing for them here, Roland reasoned, and besides, maybe they’d find other people.

Their lives became a long journey from food source to convenience store to market to people’s basements, sleeping when they could and traveling as they pleased. They took what they needed, carried what they could, and moved on. Roland led them, taking to this life with complete ease. As they walked, he shouted things back at her like “Lovely, isn’t it?” and she never answered. He found her silence unnerving.

Eventually, after weeks of traveling from convenience store to grocery to mini-mall, they came upon a set of high cliffs, with a sheer drop to the sea. Anita had liberated a bottle of wine from the last supermarket they slept in, and the two of them sat with it and watched the sun rise.

“I’ve been thinking, Anita,” Roland said gently, “that the world ended.”

“No,” was her answer. It was the first time she had spoken in months.

“Yes, it did,” he said, with not a little sadness in his voice. “And it forgot to take us with it.” With this thought, he stood up and began the long hike back down the cliffs. Anita looked back after him for a long time.

She shattered as she hit bottom.


Credited to The Hedonist.

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138 thoughts on “A Moment’s Clarity”

  1. Constipated Unicorn

    I don’t understand the woman’s lack of emotion when everybody starts turning to glass… there’s barely even a reaction.

    Wtf is wrong with her?

  2. Excellent story! I do believe she was a little, whats the word, inconsiderate though, she didn’t really seem sad about her husbands death.

  3. I think that maybe the death of her husband dulled her nerves a bit, and thats what was up with the apathy. Then, as the title suggests,she has a moment of clarity when she realizes whats going on and has to end it.

    1. The angel Gabriel

      But then they would keep having to have sex over and over again then it would turn into the walking dead and Anita would betra him

  4. Reminds me of the Christian theology of the rapture. In my mind the the connection to the idea of everyone you love leaving and you are left alone with your mourning, made this pasta most delicious. 9/10

  5. Eerie and macabre with just a pinch of sadness.

    Good story, I thoroughly enjoyed it. I’m not a big fan of Science Fiction, but I love alternate universe stories likes these.

  6. I think the key to this pasta is to keep in mind the title as you read (at least the ending). I\’m not sure to what cliche people are referring as I can\’t think of a story grossly similar to this… let alone many. I feel I must be interpreting the story differently from many others as I see it that Anita and Roland were so self absorbed that it was not that the world forgot them, but rather they forgot the world.

    To me, it seems that a person turning to glass was a metaphor for some sort of (non-religious) ascension or self-actualization. Those left unturned continued to live because their lives saw no significant difference between people as beings and people as objects. I think this is shown clearly by Anita\’s use of her husband as a hat rack, her \’horror\’ over the scarcity of her tea (greatest line, by the way), and her further comfort by the mere presence of her glass husband. However, Roland\’s comment forced her to confront the world see was now living in for the first time (a moment\’s clarity) and she was overcome by the reality of it.

    Very well written and surprisingly deep. Wonderful work.

  7. Right…
    LOVED IT.
    But…I felt it could have gone 2 ways. The way you took it, i feel it was quite a romantic (albeit quirky) story. It was an excellent concept and beautifully written…but at the start with Anita wanting to use her husband as a hat rack etc…it seemed alot more eery than it turned out to be.

    if you’d have followed that eeriness and disturbing nature I think I’d have been in love with this peice.

    Also…ending. Again… “and she shattered as she hit the bottom” seems a bit too romanticised for me. The whole “the world forgot us” thing..too romantic and sweet. The end of the world in itself was a bit of a cop out.
    I’d have prefferred it if it were creepier.
    I feel it was an EXCELLENT story but not a creepypasta.

    8.7/10
    :D Thanks for posting non-the-less I really enjoyed it.

  8. lolwotisthisidonyeven

    “they came upon a set of high cliffs, with a sheer drop to the sea.”
    “She shattered as she hit bottom.”

    Lolwotisthisidonteven?

  9. Would have been better if you had ended when he said “And it forgot to take us with it.” It’s like you thought “oh crap, I need to make this creepy or something” and tacked on the last few lines!

    Otherwise, a delicious, delicious pasta.

  10. Al: …wut?

    Anyways, it took me a bit, but I think I understand the ending now. She didn’t see the world for what it was, and was self absorbed. When she realized that they were left behind, and that the world was gone and her life would never be the same, when she saw the world clearly, she couldn’t take it and jumped, turning into glass on her way down

    Nice story, but the ending was… Wow, did not expect that. 9/10 from me

  11. i was ok until the ending. i don’t understand really it doesn’t explain very much and i think that makes the story a little dead beat in the beginning it was capturing but there were a lot of things i found that made no sense and the ending didn’t explain very much like the way i see it is she turned to glass and he was carrying her but then it says she answered him but then she turned to gloas and fell of a cliff and shattered so shouldn’t he turn to glass first because i thought she was the main character but then it sort of turns around and makes it sound like he’s the real culprit. a brilliant story but a disappointing ending!

  12. Best I’ve read here. Very reminiscent of an early Twilight Zone, and I adore your style. I’m not sure about this venue, however, perhaps add a bit to their travels and bill it as a short story?

  13. lapetitemorte.

    Hm. I don’t know. My first reaction is to dislike it. But, I’ve just finished studying the theatre of the absurd. It makes me look at this is a different light.

  14. It was a great story , while reading I was anxious to get to the next paragraph , read the next bit of information. I was not expecting Anitas death , well I was but I was hoping she would surive through it all.

  15. Very interesting, I liked how it was written. Have you ever read The Girl with the Glass Feet? Sorta similar in that a person turns into glass and no one knows why or how. It doesn’t happen on a large scale and the book ends without a full conclusion as well.

  16. Very good pasta. Reminded me a bit about I am Legend (the book, NOT the movie based in the book), with how cynical Anita acts to the depressing and unexplainable events unfolding around her. And the ending is great, mainly because it never tells whether she really turned to glass, or if it was another bottom she hit.

  17. It’s not creepy, but a very interesting read. I love the everyday tone it’s written in, it actually reminded me a little of Roald Dahl.

  18. I quite liked this, particularly the focal character’s general detachment from the events unfolding around her and bourgeois attitude. I actually liked the ending, though I will agree the last third was not as good as the beginning.

    Good work overall.

  19. Her death was so rushed that you forgot the cause. To give so much information and backstory is nice, but it’s so open ended that it’s hard to call it a whole story.

  20. Interesting read but it turned horrible towards the middle/end. After Roland’s “show-up” to rob the house, it turned into a quick summary of the usual epidemic movies you see on TV rather than an original and creative concept that this pasta actually started out with. It had the idea but not the build-up towards the climax that would’ve given this pasta the bang it needed. And the ending… was equally horrible. Like the first commentor managed to capture in his/her last sentence, it was too sudden and not enough build-up that normal stories need for a satisfying ending. It was just too “there” and not enough material in between to sufficiently pad it.

    And on a last note, that’s one FAIL husband if your wife is going to treat you as a coat hanger after you’ve died. =P

  21. ok i like this pasta 4.9/5
    the only reason i put 4.9 is because why did she all of a sudden turn to glass when she jumped? there isnt really a reason to the humans being glassed. is it because they react they turn to glass? b/c Roland dosn’t seem to react like everyone else all scared and panicked he just steals all casualy and neither does Anita she just goes on like its normal now and dosn’t react till she jumpes off the cliff then she turns to stone. so why then, when she jumps off she changes and not before in the grochery *hacked the word “/* store or when she wakes up in bed?

  22. Great story. A little slow in some places but highly interesting. Not quite what I’d really call *creepy*pasta though. Much more melancholy to me. Loved the ending.

  23. I loved the ending; it was the sort of sharp turn that made me have to double take and read a couple of times.

    An interesting concept… people turning into glass? Hmmm…

  24. That wasn’t scary. It wasn’t even creepy, but, it was beautifully written. I also loved the symbolism. That was some satisfying pasta. Well done.
    9/10

  25. This was haunting. I like it a lot. It reminded me of a nightmare I had as a small child, of a witch who turned people’s hearts into glass…. I may have to write a story on that dream. I’ll give you credit for the inspiration :)

  26. UnSpeckled Muffin

    Interesting. Reminded me slightly of memetic symbol, but not so creepy and only kinda made me want to poke the sleeping people in my house.

  27. Nightmare Fuel Drinker

    I agree that it’s good but isn’t really creepypasta. Too much of an underlying air of morbid humor about it. Sauce ain’t supposed to taste funny. Also, the pasta’s far more cerebral (as in it makes you think) than adrenalin inducing, and creepypasta tends to be associated with getting the blood pumping rather than the brain.

    I kinda saw the end coming from a long ways off, but not quite like that. All in all, it was a very nice dish, even if it’s not something you’d typically see on the menu at the Nightmare Fuel Cafe. Maybe one of the chefs over at Le Bistro Philosophical is moonlighting? My complements to the chef either way.

  28. I thought the ending was perfect. That passiveness hiding this terribly desperation and fear, until she can’t take it anymore, and…well.

    I thought it was beautiful. Definitely not Creepypasta. But beautiful.

  29. Are you familiar with the works of Peter Carey? All I could think of was his short stories while reading this.

    Excellent pasta imo.

  30. Oh goodness gracious this one took me through a trip. I was half-suspecting Anita to be some crazed witch or something. But good pasta :D

  31. Randy Sisenstein

    “The world ended, and it forgot to take us with it.”

    That typed sentence is singlehandedly one of the most depressing things I’ve read in a long time. Not a scary story, but certainly saddening.

  32. sadness caused– or literally became– the end of the world.
    she died of a broken heart, left alone.

    …perhaps?

    it’s the explanation that came to me immediately, but it still leaves some explanation to be desired.
    i’d love to get inside the author’s head.

  33. I loved this up until the news anchor went ting, but then it kinda lost steam. Definitely has potential. My favourite line: “Three relatives now dead, Anita found in horror that she had run out of tea bags.”

  34. Miss Melancholia

    Very beautifully written. I adore this pasta.

    I thought that maybe the tea had some sort of connection to her being alive. Considering that she drank tea so often…

  35. Also forgot to mention, the phrase ‘Three relatives now dead, Anita found in horror that she had run out of tea bags.’ is priceless, so cynical.

  36. So surreal. Poor Roland, there’s be no one to put a hat on him, or have tea with his statue when he turns!
    I thought of ‘The Road’ towards the end too.
    But why there were many glass people in her attic? Did she collect them and bring them there? I kind of missed it out. Were they those ‘glass figurines’ in the attic even before the husband turned? Now, that’s creepy.

  37. Could someone PLEASE explain the end to me? The first impression I got was she was glass and he was taking her along, but I dont think that was it. Was the reason she didnt *ting* because she was so passive? Oh God the questions..

  38. I liked it, a lot. The way it was written, the originality of it all, and whatnot. Any other good review cliche I can throw your way, I gladly would.

    But the ending seemed a little bit off compared to the rest of the story. It was hinting at something that could’ve been so much more than “Oh yeah, but we didn’t die” KERBLAM. “Oh wait you did, el oh el.”

    But nonetheless, an amazing pasta.

  39. i like it, but i didnt get how anyone could turn into a glass statue.
    and the end was kind of…. odd, i suppose.
    but i did like it

  40. I think people are being too critical of Anita’s passiveness, you’d be surprised how some people react to horrifying circumstances. It’s really not all that rare to see someone become emotionally numb, especially when death is so omnipresent around you.

    Actually, this reminded me alot of Peter Jackson’s braindead, in the way the main character of that movie kept trying to deal with these living corpses, treating them as children, or even pets at first. When she’s moving her husband from place to place, it seems like she’s trying to derive some human usefulness what is essentially an object, to put him to work, as he had worked so hard in life. Perhaps it was a subconcious attempt to mimic what he had been.

    I know that’s stretching it a bit, this doesn’t SEEM like a story rich with metaphor (which is actually why I like it), but rather telling a story for the sake of the story. The ending is somewhat predictable, but perfect, don’t let people tell you it ends too abruptly, it doesn’t. It ends just as it should, as quietly and understated as it began.

    The critics don’t even really seem able to explain why they feel the way they do, so I would take what they say with a grain of salt. The writing is a little convoluted in places, there were a few lines I had to read a couple times, but it wasn’t really a big deal at all. It didn’t effect that natural flow of the stroy – which was great, by the way – and over all, I say you have shown the markings of a truly talented writer. Please keep writing, and don’t limit yourself to one genre, I would love to see some other pieces you’ve done.

  41. I quite liked it…

    I thought it was gentle, but maybe that’s just the way I read it.

    That Anita didn’t really care anymore made me laugh a little. She reminds me of something I’ve forgotten.

  42. I thought it was a bit long. Pretty beautiful, but a bit long. The preview was a bit more creepy-pastaish, where it ended with the reporter dying.

  43. Had a very Twilight Zone feel, I thought this was well done. The ending seemed abrupt, but once you take it all in it works together.

  44. delicious writing, but the ending felt a bit too anticlimatic D:
    and for some reason i get a terry pratchett feel out of the writing?

  45. it’s really well written, except… well, I can’t really imagine why this was written. It’s an interesting concept, and the characters are interesting, but it really seems like Roland was thrown in there just to have the ending come around. And why is Anita so passive? It makes it hard for a reader to relate to her at all, because unless she had something to do with it, you really think she’s have a reaction.

  46. Great writing, I loved the mood. As people have said, not really creepy- but that didn’t bother me in the slightest. I got a very strong 28 days later vibe.

    I’d love to hear more.

  47. Wow. What a way to build up an outstanding story, only to end it with a complete cop-out.

    Ouch. I feel personally hit on that one.

  48. I didn’t particularly appreciate the author’s style, particularly the grammatical inaccuracies. That said, it wasn’t a bad story at all. I enjoyed it and I think the author portrayed the characters personalities quite well without giving too much information. It was a brilliant balance that humanizes them, distinguishes them, and allows the reader to identify with them; all at the same time.

    Although, were I in the situation, I’m not sure which character my actions would resemble most…

  49. I feel like I have to read the ending again to completely get it, but I don’t like how it just stopped =/

    Still, very nice. I like this one.

  50. I didn’t like it
    it was lame
    The ending was lame
    the only good part was when the people where changing
    but like, you don’t say how it even happened
    or why

  51. I thought it beautifully written, didnt seem pretentious or anything and the ending was beautiful but i admit it did leave me wanting more, like maybe the story was a bit too vague with details.

    but still great :D

  52. That was brilliant, not so much a creepypasta, but I definitely appreciate this being here, has a disturbing sort of flow and style, use of words, etc.
    10/10

  53. I like this! In fact, I love it! Quietly creepy yet lighthearted at the same time. It made the end of the world sound quite nice- I think it was just the shock of realisation that got her in the end.

  54. It was nice.

    Not necessarily creepy or shit-your-pants scary, but…eerie, I guess.

    I got my copy of John Dies at the End yesterday. I can’t be bothered with thinking about anything else.

  55. Um…..yeah. I was expecting so much more from this. It was wonderfully worded, but……well…just as with this comment, you’ll be left looking for m

  56. Meh, it was decent. It could have possibly used a better ending, but I can’t complain. 8.5/10.
    And I’d like to add, MOAR.

  57. Everyone turning into glass statues? Scary thought. But was this merely a horrific natural disaster, or was the woman behind it? Initially, I thought she was some kinda witch who did this…

  58. I really liked this one. It’s sort of a twist on the whole plague/virus/”spreading malady” epidemic cliche; while usually that little trope takes on the form of some sort of zombie/monster virus, I like how this one turns everyone into glass. Interesting and unique(?) concept.

    The ending could have used some work, but I can see this being the plot/premise for a movie, and I would watch it simply because it’s an epidemic that’s NOT a horrible disfiguring disease or zombies/ragers/ghouls.

  59. A great plot device and a great title, but the underlying metaphor wasn’t… ahem… clear. I’m glad it didn’t turn into transparent zombies, though.

  60. Very lovely writing and definitely an interesting concept. However, it felt like it was leading up to something else, but turned sharply into a cliche. Overall, meh.

  61. Wait, what?

    Beautifully written but I was expecting something more, there was so much build up only to be left with a…

    WhatisthisIdon’teven.

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