"Mozaika" by Nancy Kilpatrick

Though born in Philadelphia (on May 6, 1946), Nancy Kilpatrick is considered a Canadian author. She has written short stories, novels, and non-fiction. Among her books are tie-ins to the Friday the 13th movie series. She also writes under the name Amarantha Knight. She lives in Canada and teaches short story writing at the George Brown College of Applied Arts and Technology in Toronto. Her story "Mozaika" takes up six and a half pages in the Cosmic Horror Issue of Weird Tales. There is also a full-page main title page with an illustration, one that is used again to fill the last half page of the story.

There isn't any product placement in "Mozaika." That's a relief. The story is set in the present or near future. It's about a woman named Myrna and her attempts to assemble a mosaic as the larger world falls apart outside of her tiny house on its remote half-acre lot. Myrna lives alone, in the boondocks, mostly cut off from the world. That's how she wants it to be. In her isolation, she is like the main characters in "A Ghost Story for Christmas" and "Night Fishing." Unlike those two men, though, she stays in. They go out. Her tiny house is her safe place until it isn't anymore.

Myrna is an artist. Her work on her mosaic is a creative act, an attempt to bring order into the universe and to counteract decline and decay. There is imagery in this story of the forces that oppose her. In a "contusious" sky she sees countless lights. What are they? What do they represent? (If this story were happening now we could say they are drones.) Her grout is "necrotic black." She wipes her tiles with a chamois "like a caring parent tending a child's wound." The only other living characters in her story are her overbearing mother and her sister. As living characters, they only talk on the phone from three hours away. "Mozaika" is almost completely about Myrna and her very detailed work on her mosaic.

Something is going on in the outer world. Living in isolation and working on her art, Myrna is unaware. But her mother tells her that people are dying all over . . . and that they're coming back. Neighbors die. Her sister's baby and husband die, then the sister herself and the mother, too. All of them show up at her door, and they want in. They are like zombies. Like the wider world and humanity in the grip of history, they are in a state of decay, or "decline and fall," as she remembers a departed friend saying. Her work has been to counteract all of that. In that she fails. The creative act, an attempt to emulate God and to impose order against chaos, fails. And what is the horror, the cosmic horror? Entropy, which is horrifying enough in all of its implications.

Original text copyright 2024 Terence E. Hanley