Tales of Terror and Mystery
The Horror of the Heights
Ithungaboutinwreathsandcoils,turningandtwistingslowlyinthesunlight.Asthemonoplaneshotthroughit,Iwasawareofafainttasteofoiluponmylips,andtherewasagreasyscumuponthewoodworkofthemachine.Someinfinitelyfineorganicmatterappearedtobesuspendedintheatmosphere.Therewasnolifethere.Itwasinchoateanddiffuse,extendingformanysquareacresandthenfringingoffintothevoid.No,itwasnotlife.Butmightitnotbetheremainsoflife?Aboveall,mightitnotbethefoodoflife,ofmonstrouslife,evenasthehumblegreaseoftheoceanisthefoodforthemightywhale?ThethoughtwasinmymindwhenmyeyeslookedupwardsandIsawthemostwonderfulvisionthatevermanhasseen.CanIhopetoconveyittoyouevenasIsawitmyselflastThursday?
"Conceiveajelly-fishsuchassailsinoursummerseas,bell-shapedandofenormoussize—farlarger,Ishouldjudge,thanthedomeofSt.Paul’s.Itwasofalightpinkcolourveinedwithadelicategreen,butthewholehugefabricsotenuousthatitwasbutafairyoutlineagainstthedarkbluesky.Itpulsatedwithadelicateandregularrhythm.Fromittheredependedtwolong,drooping,greententacles,whichswayedslowlybackwardsandforwards.Thisgorgeousvisionpassedgentlywithnoiselessdignityovermyhead,aslightandfragileasasoap-bubble,anddrifteduponitsstatelyway.
"Ihadhalf-turnedmymonoplane,thatImightlookafterthisbeautifulcreature,when,inamoment,Ifoundmyselfamidstaperfectfleetofthem,ofallsizes,butnonesolargeasthefirst.
