Nevermore

Lenore woke suddenly to the chirp of her laptop. Her bed called to her loudly, she had no idea how many nights it had been since she felt the warmth of the covers and the fluff of the pillows. She trained her bleary eyes to the screen and saw that it was the midnight hour. It was the message notification that had woken her from her dreamless nap, and after she slowly opened the messenger, she realized that there was no message to read. She shrugged her shoulders and went back to her search for ideas. ‘Twas a phantom message and nothing more.

Howling winds reminded her that it was the middle of December, and the last few days had been bleak and gray. What little Lenore remembered of the daylight hours, the most vivid of the blurs was the low, cold, stone-gray sky; it lay on her as oppressively as the need to find her next inspiration. One popular book of prose does not an author make, she thought. How she longed for the days of endless typing, watching the novel write itself as the story flowed freely form her soul. It was like discovering a radiant angel of inspiration just sitting on your shoulder. But now her inspiration may be nameless forever more.

Presently, under the open tab on her laptop, Lenore stumbled upon a photo of a raven that she swore was gazing at her purposely. Outside, the winds blew with gale force. Her heart pulsed rapidly with terror as the eyes of the raven never wavered. The message notification chirped again… still no message to read. “It’s a problem with the server, it has to be. Just that and nothing more.”

Chirp! Again, the notification sounded like a gong inside her ear. Being fully awake and aware, she felt a boldness overtake her fear. Lenore opened the messenger and there she saw a conversation box open with the sender line blank. You shall have to forgive me, sir, or ma’am, but I was napping when you attempted to send your message. I implore you to resend. She struck the enter key, sending the message to her unknown recipient. But for her own message, the box remained blank with nothing more.

Deep into the screen’s whiteness she peered, her fatigued mind now paging through thought after thought as to who might be on the other end of the message. The silence screamed in her brain as Lenore continued staring at the laptop. Could it be a stalker? A murderer? A crazed fan? A jilted ex-boyfriend? Her desire to know the truth became an immediate obsession, and she typed I am Lenore. And a moment later was received, Lenore? Only this and nothing more.

Lenore returned, once more, to staring at the photo of the raven, her emotions an amalgam of confusion. The wind whined and screamed against the windows of her dank apartment, leaves and litter sounding like stones against the glass. As she stared at the raven in the photo, she convinced herself that it was the litter striking glass that emulated the sound of the chirp. “’Tis the wind and nothing more!”

Lenore, overcome with curiosity, clicks her mouse on the photo of the raven. Crash! The window to her right suffered a large blow from something sizeable, but it survived without incident. When she turned her eyes back to the photo on the screen, the raven still stared at her with its piercing eyes, but its countenance had changed. To her it seemed stately, and she could swear that, within the reflection of it eyes, was a statue of Athena. The computer remained quiet as the raven stared, silent and nothing more.

Lenore stared unwaveringly at the raven on the screen. Deep inside, she knew that the raven wasn’t real, but she found herself smiling at the ebony bird. Is this what a schizophrenic episode felt like? Dismissing the thought, Lenore rested her chin on her hand and said, “Why should you be too craven to converse with reality? With me? You are a bird of death, and surely you have a name.” Chirp… Nevermore.

Surely, her delirium was to blame for the laugh that followed the raven’s message. Has anybody else ever sat in front of their computer screen conversing with the image of a grand, black raven? And why such a ridiculous name? Lenore sat back and glared at the monitor, stared deep into the eyes of the raven, positive that she could make out the details of the statue reflected therein. What kind of name, she thought, is Nevermore?

Stately the raven had appeared to Lenore when she first clicked its photo, but now it seemed even more. In her dissociative state, she could only describe the raven as noble, regal even. And the statue of Athena reflected in its eyes seemed to be in sharper focus. Was there a deeper meaning here that she was unable to discover? The nameless conversation still glared quietly at her, that single-word response hanging like a dense fog. This is crazy, thought Lenore, come the morning this will be over, and I’ll still be left with my empty hope for inspiration. You’re just another dead end. Defiantly she stared at the raven. Chirp… Nevermore.

Lenore giggled for several long moments, some of them near to true laughter, when she saw the response of the raven. “You’re not a muse! You have nothing to offer me!” The giggles gave way to a sterner defiance. “You have, doubtless, attempted to be the inspiration for others, hoping for some bestseller based on a raven. Hah! Now here you are, badgering me because I have run into a wall! You are disaster raven, left with only a word… Nevermore!”

Lenore sat back in her chair. Perhaps, there is something more. Turning her gaze once more, she could have sworn the raven cracked a smile. She shifted her body, sinking deep into the cushion as she set herself in a more dominating pose. Eye to eye with the raven on her screen, she began to ponder. Considering this ominous, grim, and ghastly bird, Lenore thought, What could he mean by ‘Nevermore’?

Reclining once more, Lenore felt the eyes of the raven penetrating her to the core. She tried to think about the raven, about her absent inspiration, about the quiet keyboard sitting on the desk in front of her. There was nothing… Glimpses of ideas flashed in her mind’s eye, but no words, whether thought or spoken, were made clear to her. And every image and thought ended with the raven. Would her keyboard sit quietly evermore?

Lenore sat in the deafening silence of the room, surrounded by the silent howling of the wind beyond. Denser the air in the room seemed to grow, the pungent aroma of hot electronics filled her nose. She looked to the eyes of the raven, and the reflection of the statue within; white, feathery wings appeared hazy upon Athena’s back. “You dare to invoke God? You believe that He has sent you to me?! And you give nothing but a word!” The anguish was palpable, “Give me some respite, you wretched bird! Maybe even some old nepenthe to save poor, lost Lenore!” Chirp… Nevermore.

“Prophet of Hell!” screamed Lenore, standing quickly and pounding fists on desk. “I don’t care if you appeared at random or were sent by the tempests of the Damned! I don’t care that you have come to this home of empty horror! Where is my balm of Gilead?! Where is my release?!” Her fists pounded the wood relentlessly. Chirp… Nevermore.

“Prophet of Hell!” screamed Lenore, again. And with pointed finger from balled up hand, she brought her finger to within a hair’s breadth of touching the screen, touching the raven. “By the God we are to adore, tell me if this soul of Lenore shall ever embrace the saints of the Eden of Inspiration!” She collapsed back into the chair, her breath escaping in a huff. Chirp… Nevermore.

“Let that word be the one of our parting,” hissed Lenore. The room about her grew dark, as great wings spreading in silhouette from behind the raven. “Get yourself away from me! Get yourself back to the Hell of internet obscurity! Leave me to my empty inspiration! Take your beak from out of my heart and take your leave of my screen!” Chirp… Nevermore.

The darkness grew about Lenore, and she felt the wings of the raven wrap about her. She lifted her head to look once more into the raven’s eyes, and the reflection of Athena had a hue of red. Like a demon’s dreaming eyes, the raven upon her computer screen seemed poised to reap her soul. The shadow took her, leaving her chair empty and her inspiration floating on the floor… Forever more.