When living with a celestial cryptid in my sight, people ask me questions. They often get captivated by her, and want to know all about her. But their questions aren’t always easy to answer. How do you introduce the intangible, or explain the impossible? And she still has her mysteries, things no one will ever know. So, over the years, I’ve found my own ways to answer.
When people ask what she’s like, I often:
A) Compare her to the octopus, her closest relation;
B) Focus on her curious soul instead;
C) Answer that she is too majestic to describe;
D) Explain that she is a gentle giant, made of starlight and song.
When people ask where she came from, I often:
A) Suggest she came from the depths of space and time;
B) Relate how she surfaced at Aldgate station in 2019;
C) Admit that scientists tangled her origins and I’m not sure;
D) Create a mythology for her, using folklore and legend.
When people ask if she has a name, I often:
A) Say its macular dystrophy;
B) Give a Norse name I like the sound of;
C) Tell them it’s The Friendly Kraken;
D) Reply that she hasn’t decided on one yet.
When people ask how she distorts my sight, I often:
A) Relate how she fills my sight with interstellar dust, consuming details, depths, and distances;
B) Use metaphors to explain how my peripheral vision still stands strong;
C) Describe how macular dystrophy distorts the world, eroding edges, strangling shapes and folding faces;
D) Acknowledge how she swallows the world at night, which scares me most of all.
When people ask if I regret her coming, I often:
A) Disagree, because she has filled my life with purpose, opportunity and wonder;
B) Confess that I did once, when she was less definite;
C) Describe how we’ve found our harmony through acceptance;
D) Express how living with her is delightful, and I don’t regret a thing.
When people ask how I manage with her, I often:
A) Mention how meditation and music always helps;
B) Demonstrate the tricks and technology I use to make life easier;
C) Explain how guardians of accessibility offer helping hands when we get stuck;
D) Reveal how there is little to manage, for she is made of wonder.
My answers often surprise people, making them think in new ways, or take on a different perspective. In reply, they say they learn something new, from talking to me or listening to her stories, because our ways spark wonder.
I never mind answering their questions. I like talking about her, and know they always mean well. As she grows, I may have to answer more questions. But with this quiz in mind, I know I can answer with confidence. And when living with a celestial cryptid, confidence is the strongest magic of all.
Sarah Oakes she/hers is a visually impaired writer and musician in love with krakens and science fiction. She has had one short story, four poems and many flashes published, and is working on a novella in flash. You can find her stories in Literary Namjooning, FromOneLine, Litmora Litmag, Disabled Tales and National Flash Fiction Day. When not writing, you can find Sarah travelling, somewhere in nature, or playing her clarinet. You can also find Sarah on Twitter at @SarahOa6449206.