Yesterfang, s. [Eng. yester and fang.]
That which was taken, captured, or caught on the day
preceding.
‘That nothing shall be missing of the yesterfang.’
— Holinshed: Descript of Scotland , ch. ix
Entry in LLOYD’S ENCYLOPAEDIC DICTIONARY 1895
Further quotes from this novella will appear in the comment stream below…
The Des Lewis Gestalt Real-Time Reviews 
This is a continuation from my re-reading and apposite quoting of THE APOCRYPHAN here: https://dflewisreviews.wordpress.com/2020/05/19/the-apocryfan-2/
My self-commentary on YESTERFANG in 2015: https://expenscusil.wordpress.com/yesterfang-self-commentary/
“His tiny new-born body was placed not in front of an electric fan for cooling purposes – but, using a special cavity or cradle for new-born babies within the fan just behind the spinning metal vanes, John spent most of his memory days – before false memories took sway – in such a position, often stirring, when his mother switched off the fan to feed him by pushing her nipple through the safety-guard.”
“Along the snow-line, the cities were strung as upon a crystal necklace – London, Ligotti, Dickens, Auster, Shakespeare, Congreve, Beerbohm, Vander-Meer, Sebald, Fowles & Updike. Composite city-flakes each with its symmetry of icy artistry. Named by Nature after writers now forgotten by most, whilst their respective genii loci were still apparent to those few students who studied such studies-in-hindsight or were old enough to remember studying the books for real.“
“However, to obtain a graspable sense of his own being, Jawn needed to be captured by each moment with such moments later being pulled from some future hat like magic tricks of himself to assist his natural development as a unified character facing a known and believable reality. Thus, he needed to build yester-hives of himself along the way for when he needed to travel back there one day. A phalanx of déjà-vus that maketh the man.“
“VALUE by Hiver Jawn
Everyone has their value except me. I was an unwanted child who remained unwanted for as long as I can remember. My real mother didn’t want me. My foster mother soon didn’t want me. The people in the children’s home didn’t want me even before I got there. My friends didn’t want me or they wouldn’t want me if I had friends. The school didn’t want me. Then the special school didn’t want me. The prison didn’t want me as it was too full. Finally I didn’t want me.
Then I met you. You seemed to want me. I can never understand why you wanted me. I asked you time and time again what possible value could someone like me have for someone like you. You always smiled without answering. So I had to keep asking. The fact that you kept on not answering my question, I lost my temper with you one day. You vanished that night, with my question still unanswered. Leaving a single tooth under my pillow.”
“‘Jawn,’ said Congreve, with a smile, as their two steeds cantered side by side, ‘we shall call it our quest for the pest – no llonger a quest for the past, not a search for lost time nor a remembrance of things past, because that stuff’s old hat, because the true past, once accomplished, once lived, once forgotten, is a past that’s marched too far for any quest to reach. So we gradually change the past, by changing the purpose of the quest itself. With this success in neutralising the past with altered goals beyond its own reach, we now seek the pest instead, the pest we should always have sought if it had not been for the similar words confusing us … so that we can then eventually quench the pest’s poison and stymie its eternally foreseeable ability to bleed mankind dry with its cancers and other diseases of mind and body…’”
“The pest is many things. It’s what the world faces. Things that already exist. Cancer. Madness. Bird Flew. Tyranny. Screening. Religions. And there are other things I dare not broach for fear of bringing them into existence for the first time by merely speaking their names. And a hero-warrior is being created for each world that acts as the transparency for the next world and so on… You are to be that hero…”
“: a pest greater than any of the other pests so far identified as being a constituent of the archetype pest itself: and this constituent pest, thus accidentally created, was called global warming. A dire pest. Soon to be the pest.”
“The dream of Dream Sickness was the most fantastical of all. Perhaps, therefore, the one that was most real. The only truth is paradox. The only texture.”
“… the disease took deeper root in their souls. And in their faith about what life was all about. Not a rush. But a doddle.
The disease killed the birds because birds could not slow up without falling from the sky. As they did. Aircraft, too, piloted by gradually slower and heavier people could not stay up and lowered lower and lower towards the ground…”
See here – https://expenscusil.wordpress.com/yesterfang-self-commentary/