When something is enigmatic, it is mysterious.
When we choose to write we seek to embody this one virtue.
What does it mean to be enigmatic, and how does one go about this business? Mystery is both thrilling, and horrifying; concrete and abstract; benevolent and malevolent.
What is the Enigmatic Monster? Well, that’s the problem: we don’t know.
From time to time it will tap on our windows, or knock on our doors. We never see it, though. On nights where violent storms prevent us from slumber, we will hear the monster’s keening wail: one single, shrill, piercing note.
And our blood runs cold.
Our hope, someday, is to define this monster.