‘Beware ‘The Rusted Seesaw’ oh tired traveler. Beware. Though it is done up in the guise of a children’s ride, though its flaking metal is sometimes coated in fresh paint, ‘The Rusted Seesaw’ is hardly more than a pile of shrapnel held together by ill-will and fate. It shrieks and moans with riding. It bends shamefully under the lightest bodies. Its layers break down into scabs. Its scabs work their way between clothes and skin. Itching. Staining. Poisoning, more likely than not. ‘The Rusted Seesaw’ will claim countless victims over the years simply by leeching heavy metals into the environment. It will be known for just one killing.
‘The Prophecy of the Rusted Seesaw’ is a simple image painted on the back of an old stop sign. It depicts a roughly human-shaped figure in crude agony. ‘The Seesaw’ is there, it has splintered under the rider. The jagged metal of the base mutilates the figure. Loose shards embed themselves in his limbs. The figure’s seesaw partner, still seated, looks on in horror. The figure is frozen that way in unending near-death.
‘The Prophecy’ is taken seriously by those in the know. Those in the know have heard of a similar image, painted on the back of a yield sign. It depicted an incident involving the massive statue of a chef that once stood outside a Wayside diner. The incident was as unlikely as it was disastrous and it came to be exactly as the image foretold. It came to be despite malicious grin of the old statue, despite the uncanny moans that issued from its crevices when the wind was right. The signs were there, both specific and generalized. They were ignored.
Fate is a funny thing. Those who believe ‘The Prophecy of the Rusted Seesaw’ are too afraid to dismantle it for fear that it will be the inciting incident. Those who don’t believe have no reason to interfere. It carries on, wasting away into the grass, declining with the grace of a rabid dog.
Creaking in an abandoned forest park, ‘The Rusted Seesaw’ awaits the rider and the witness and it will not rest until they arrive.
-an excerpt, Autumn by the Wayside
