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I extracted the NHTSA reports for the incidents in the Waymo investigation. There are 22 incidents, these are just the ones in the NHTSA database, not including the handful of non-crash ones such as driving on the wrong side of the road. These reports are vague and in the ones marked as crashes with other vehicles, there is no information on who was at fault or other useful stuff. But the long and short of it is that out of a million trips, if these are the crashes most worth investigating, it's pretty mild stuff. I will write up more on this later for Forbes' site. Passengers were present in the vehicles for 11 of these, no injuries.

• On February [XXX], 2024 at 1:42 AM MT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle ("Waymo AV") operating in Phoenix, Arizona was in a collision involving debris on [XXX] towards [XXX].
• On February [XXX], 2024 at 10:01 PM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle ("Waymo AV") operating in Los Angeles, California was in a collision involving a gate at [XXX] and [XXX].
• On January [XXX], 2024 at 8:03 AM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in Scottsdale, Arizona was in a collision involving an automatic gate in an apartment complex parking lot entrance on [XXX] near [XXX].
• On January [XXX], 2024 at 4:50 PM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in Phoenix, Arizona was in an event involving a rock in the road on [XXX] past [XXX].
• On January [XXX], 2024 at 12:35 PM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in Gilbert, Arizona was in an event involving parking lot spikes at a parking lot entrance on [XXX] near [XXX].
• This report includes the following updates to the initial report submitted on January 14, 2024 [REDACTED, MAY CONTAIN CONFIDENTIAL BUSINESS INFORMATION]: corrected event year in the narrative from 2023 to 2024 LOCATION ADDRESS / DESCRIPTION field updated to reflect the location listed in the narrative clarifications added to the narrative and correction to the Waymo AVs mileage. The remainder is unchanged from the initial report.
• On January [XXX], 2023 at 10:52AM PT a rider of a moped lost control of the moped they were operating and fell and slid in front of a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle ("Waymo AV") operating in San Francisco, California on [XXX] at [XXX] neither the moped nor its driver made contact with the Waymo AV.
• On November [XXX] , 2023 at 10:09 AM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in Tempe, Arizona was in a collision involving a chain in a parking lot at [XXX].
• On October [XXX], 2023 at 1:29 PM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in Phoenix, Arizona was in a collision involving an automatic gate in a parking lot driveway at Central High School.
• On October [XXX], 2023 at 6:53 PM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in Phoenix, Arizona experienced underbody damage in a construction zone on [XXX] near [XXX].
• On July [XXX], 2023 at 11:11 AM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in San Francisco, California was in a collision involving an SUV on [XXX] east of [XXX].
• On[XXX], 2023 at 8:48 PM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in San Francisco, California was in a collision involving a passenger vehicle on [XXX] at [XXX}.
• On March [XXX], 2023 at 8:27 PM PST a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in San Francisco was in a collision involving a fixed object on [XXX] near [XXX].
• On February [XXX], 2023 at 5:43 AM PST a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle ("Waymo AV") operating in San Francisco, California was in a collision involving road debris on [XXX] at [XXX].
• Other than the updated Speed Limit field, the content of this report is unchanged from the initial report submitted on December 5, 2022 [REDACTED, MAY CONTAIN CONFIDENTIAL BUSINESS INFORMATION].
• On December [XXX], 2022 at 9:05 PM PST a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in Phoenix, Arizona was in a collision involving a fixed object in a parking lot on the 4100 block of [XXX].
• On September [XXX], 2021 at 1:56 AM PDT, a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle ('Waymo AV') operating in San Francisco was in a collision involving an unoccupied parked passenger vehicle at the north end of [XXX] (a dead-end road).
• Other than the addition of the zip code in which the incident occurred, the content of this report is unchanged from the initial report submitted on September [XXX], 2021 [REDACTED, MAY CONTAIN CONFIDENTIAL BUSINESS INFORMATION]. On August [XXX], 2021 at 5:41 PM PDT, Waymo Autonomous Vehicle ("Waymo AV") operating in San Francisco was in a collision involving an unoccupied parked passenger vehicle at [XXX]. While performing a multipoint turn at the north end of [XXX] (a dead-end road), the Waymo AV was in reverse at approximately 2 MPH when it made contact with the front driver's side door of an unoccupied parked passenger vehicle. The Waymo AV was in autonomous mode until just before making contact, when the test driver transitioned the Waymo AV into manual mode. The contact caused minor scuffing and a small dent in the door handle of the parked vehicle's driver door and minor damage to the plastic sensor housing on the Waymo AV's rear passenger's side.Waymo is reporting this crash under Request No. 1 of Standing General Order 2021-01 because the Waymo AV was towed from the scene (though the Waymo AV was driveable). Waymo may supplement or correct its reporting with additional information as it may become available. This report was submitted from the Pacific time zone on the required date.
• On August [XXX], 2021 at 5:41 PM PDT, Waymo Autonomous Vehicle ('Waymo AV') operating in San Francisco was in a collision involving an unoccupied parked passenger vehicle at [XXX]. While performing a multipoint turn at the north end of [XXX] (a dead-end road), the Waymo AV was in reverse at approximately 2 MPH when it made contact with the front driver's side door of an unoccupied parked passenger vehicle. The Waymo AV was in autonomous mode until just before making contact, when the test driver transitioned the Waymo AV into manual mode. The contact caused minor scuffing and a small dent in the door handle of the parked vehicle's driver door and minor damage to the plastic sensor housing on the Waymo AV's rear passenger's side.

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If you ask other RVers which national park is their favorite, someone is bound to mention Joshua Tree National Park in Southern California. It's a camper's paradise with wide open space and panoramic views.
Most evenings, the landscape glows at golden hour, and the sky turns from red hot at sunset to dark blue and star-filled at night. You can enjoy the remoteness of the park but also its proximity to Palm Springs and the Coachella Valley.
Take the time during your visit to enjoy the endless roads of the desert landscape, play on the rock formations, and, of course, marvel at the Joshua Trees.

Why Visit Joshua Tree National Park?

The first reason to visit Joshua Tree National Park is to see its famous and fascinating Joshua Trees. Since the Mojave desert is the only place in the world where they grow naturally, Joshua Tree National Park is the best place to see them.
These trees range between 15-40 feet tall and can live an impressive 150 years. They’re members of the Yucca family and appear as though they're from a different planet, with limbs unpredictably jetting out like they have their own minds.
Another great reason to visit Joshua Tree National Park is the warm weather and abundance of sunshine. It’s no secret that RVers love to snowbird and the Californian desert is a wonderful place to be during the spring and fall months. You’ll enjoy sunny days and clear nights, perfect for dry camping with solar panels.

When to Visit Joshua Tree National Park

Joshua Tree National Park is open year-round, but the best times to visit are during the spring and fall months. Park elevations range from 536 feet to 5,814 feet above sea level, so expect conditions to vary depending on where you go in the park.
Here’s more information on the seasonal weather in Joshua Tree.

Spring

Spring is a very popular time in the park because the temperatures range from the mid-60s in February to the mid-70s in April. Depending on the year, wildflower blooms can be seen in the latter part of spring at the lower elevations within the Pinto Basin.

Summer

Due to extreme desert heat (+100℉ days are the norm), the park is pretty quiet during the summer. Late in the summer, monsoon season hits Joshua Tree, which cools down the daytime temperatures but can also lead to flash flooding in valleys and ravines.

Fall

Monsoon season continues into the fall, but it soon gives way to one of the best times to visit. Temperatures from August into October fall from the upper 90s into the low 80s, and evening temperatures range from the low 70s to the low 50s, on average.

Winter

In the heart of winter, the park's average daily temperature is 60 degrees Fahrenheit, which is perfectly comfortable, but the nights get cold and often drop to freezing. Overnight temperatures in December and January average in the mid-30s.
Check the park’s website for the latest weather alerts and condition updates.

Where to Stay

Joshua Tree National Park is pretty remote and expansive. You'll want to stay a few days. Unlike other national parks, there are no lodges or resorts for overnight accommodations. There are eight developed campgrounds, however, and camping out under the stars at Joshua Tree is an unforgettable experience.
Here are a few important things to be aware of ahead of time if you plan to camp in Joshua Tree.

Reservation versus First-Come, First-Served

Four of the developed campsites require reservations. They’re larger than the first-come, first-served campgrounds, and some offer water and flush toilets. These campgrounds fill up very quickly. We recommend planning well in advance.

Reservation Required Campgrounds

• Black Rock Campground
• Cottonwood Campground
• Indian Cove Campground
• Jumbo Rocks Campground

Black Rock and Cottonwood are the most developed campgrounds (water, toilets, sanitation dump) and are the only campgrounds you can stay in if you have a larger rig.
Black Rock has six sites that can accommodate rigs with a total length (tow vehicle included) of 38-40 feet and seven sites up to 42 feet. Cottonwood has around twenty-five campsites that can accommodate rigs slightly longer than 35 feet.
Indian Cove and Jumbo Rocks both have a few spots for RVs up to 35 feet in total length. If you have a rig larger than 35 feet, site availability may be considerably limited.

First-come, First-served Campgrounds

These campgrounds are great options if you have a smaller rig and the good fortune of securing a site. During the popular season, these campgrounds fill every weekend and often during the week, as well.

• Belle Campground
• Hidden Valley Campground
• Ryan Campground
• White Tank Campground

These are primitive campgrounds, so you will need to bring (and carry out) everything you’ll need during your stay.

Staying Outside the Park

If you’re unable to find a site in the park or you’re looking for a campground with more amenities, here are a few nearby campgrounds:

• TwentyNine Palms RV Resort and Cottages: About 10 minutes from the north entrance.
• Sam’s Family Spa and Resort: About 45 minutes from the main visitor center.
• Catalina Spa and RV Resort: About 50 minutes from the main visitor center.
• Palm Springs Oasis RV Resort: About 45 minutes from the south entrance.
• Indian Waters RV Resort and Cottages: About 30 minutes from the south entrance.

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Tips for Your Camping Stay

• Reservations for the reservable campgrounds can be made up to six months in advance.
• Reserve using the links below or by calling 1-877-444-6777.
  • Black Rock Campground
  • Cottonwood Campground
  • Indian Cove Campground
  • Jumbo Rocks Campground
• No campgrounds in the park offer electric RV hookups.
• Generator use is restricted to 7-9 am, noon-2 pm, and 5-7 pm.
• Hammocks are not permitted in campgrounds and must be hung from rocks or climbing bolts elsewhere to protect the park’s sensitive vegetation.
• Backpacking is permitted in the park, but it requires more advanced planning and preparation.

How To Get Around

Nestled between I-10 and California SR 62, Joshua Tree is located in Southeastern California and is easy to access. Several towns nearby, including Palm Springs, Indio, and Twentynine Palms, make perfect supply stops before entering the park.
Indio is the last best stop on I-10 if you’re entering the park from the south. The park’s south entrance is located off Exit 168, about 30 minutes east of Indio. The park also offers a west entrance on Quail Springs Road, about 10 minutes southeast of the town of Joshua Tree. And the north entrance is just ten minutes south of Twentynine Palms on Utah Trail.
Several paved roads allow you to traverse the park, but going from site to site can require long drive times. The most frequented sites are located near the northern edge of the park, so if you’re coming from the south along I-10, you’ll be driving through the park for an hour or so before you spot your first Joshua Tree.

Places to Go

There are many places to visit in the park that offer a variety beyond the infamous trees. It’s a unique location that features the intersection of two desert ecosystems.

Cholla Cactus Garden

The Cholla Cactus Garden is its own special area and is unlike any other part of the park. Be sure to enjoy the flat, ¼-mile nature trail to get the best look at the cacti. This patch of cacti is incredible because it mostly consists of Teddybear Cholla, which is the star of the cactus world.
The Cholla Cactus Garden is so impressive, and you’ll love snapping photos of these majestic plants. Their beauty changes throughout the day depending on how the sunlight hits them. A small word of advice, look but don’t touch. Ouch!

Arch Rock

Arch Rock is a very popular rock formation located a half-mile from White Tank Campground. The loop trail is easy to follow and a perfect activity for the whole family. Of course, the Arch Rock itself is the thing people most want to see, but there's lots of space to wander around and explore the other rock formations, too.
It’s also a very popular place for night photography and stargazing. If interested, White Tank Campground is a really convenient place to stay because of its proximity to the trailhead.

Keys View

Keys View is a popular lookout that offers incredible panoramic views of the park and the Coachella Valley. If beautiful scenery is your thing, make sure to visit Keys View. It’s about a 20-minute drive from the main road to the lookout via Keys View Rd.

Ryan Mountain

One of the most popular activities in the park is the hike to Ryan Mountain. This 3-mile round trip trail leads to the summit, where you’ll be treated to sweeping 360-degree views. The hike is listed as challenging by the NPS, so be sure to bring plenty of water and expect changing weather conditions.

Things to Do

The combination of the Mojave Desert and the Colorado Desert makes Joshua Tree a wonderful desert wilderness to explore. Here are some of the most popular activities in the park:

Hiking

Hiking is a great way to get off the road and experience more of the desert landscape. The National Park Service offers plenty of safety tips for hiking in Joshua Tree, and here are some of the park’s most popular trails:

• Barker Dam Trail: An easy 1.1-mile trail with interpretive exhibits containing information on park history. It’s a popular place for viewing bighorn sheep from a safe distance.
• Oasis of Mara Trail: A 0.5-mile trail to explore a desert oasis and learn how it’s harbored human and animal life for centuries.
• Lost Horse Mine Trail: A moderate 4-mile out and back trail to explore what was once the area’s most successful gold mine.
• Mastodon Peak Trail: A moderate 3-mile loop trail with an optional scramble to the top of a granite peak.
• Lost Palms Oasis Trail: A challenging 7.5-mile out and back trail down a canyon to one of the park’s most remote fan palm oases.

The Park Service DOES NOT recommend attempting challenging hikes in the heat due to the elevated risk of sun exposure and dehydration.

Mountain Biking

The majority of the park’s paved roads are not suitable for road cycling. However, several backcountry roads are perfect for mountain bikes. There are even three campsites within Ryan Campground dedicated to cyclists.
Be aware that bikes are only allowed on roads open to vehicle traffic but that the main park roads do not offer bike lanes or wide shoulders. Consult the park’s website for safety tips and road recommendations before biking in Joshua Tree.

Photography

Photographers love Joshua Tree because of the variety it contains. From sunrise to sunset, photographers can find landscapes, animal inhabitants, and even human visitors to place in frame.
Commercial photography does require a permit, and if you’re interested in expanding your knowledge, the Desert Institute offers field courses in partnership with the Joshua Tree National Park Association.

Stargazing

Stars can be hard to come by in urban areas like San Diego and Los Angeles, but Joshua Tree is a different story. Designated as an International Dark Sky Park, it offers some of the best stargazing in all of Southern California.
After the sun goes down, keep your headlamp in red light mode to preserve your night vision. Your eyes will need less time to adjust when you lie down to see how many shooting stars you can count!

Rock Climbing

Rock climbing, in addition to bouldering and slacklining, is another great activity to enjoy in the park. To date, there are more than 8,000 known climbing routes, over 2,000 bouldering problems, and numerous natural rock gaps that make the perfect spot to set up a slackline.
On a busy weekend, the park may have hundreds of climbers enjoying their slice of this monzogranite mecca. So be sure to follow Leave No Trace Principles and familiarize yourself with the park’s climbing management plan before your visit.

What to Bring and How to Prepare

• The desert can be dangerous, and the weather can change quickly. Check the forecast frequently and pack layers to prepare for changing conditions.
• The remote location means there is no cell service in many parts of the park. Communicate your plans to loved ones or authorities ahead of time, especially if traveling alone.
• Investing in a cell signal booster may improve cell reception in areas with limited service.
• A quality camping cooler is a great way to keep food and beverages cold in the heat of the desert.
• Bring an extra canopy tent and ensure your awning is in good condition so you can escape direct sunlight during the heat of the day.
• Keep up with air conditioner maintenance to regulate the temperature inside your RV.
• For the latest info on visiting Joshua Tree, visit their website: Joshua Tree National Park.

Brief History of Joshua Tree National Park

Despite its harsh desert environment, humans have inhabited the area that is now Joshua Tree for more than 5,000 years. In the modern era, the biggest threats to this natural environment were land developers and cactus poachers.
In the late 1920s, a Pasadena resident named Minerva Hoyt began voicing her concerns about the unregulated removal of cacti and other desert plants to be used in home gardens throughout Los Angeles.
In a relatively short time, her conservation efforts resulted in the formation of the Joshua Tree National Monument in 1936. The original protected area encompassed roughly 825,000 acres but was reduced by about 265,000 acres in 1950 when the Park Service excluded certain mining parcels in the eastern part of the park.
On Halloween in 1994, the Desert Protection Bill passed and Joshua Tree was elevated to national park status. The bill also added back approximately 234,000 acres of what had been lost in the 50s.
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Have you been to Joshua Tree National Park? Share your tips and advice in the comments below.

The world was a boozy whirl of lights and sounds. Images, broken and fragmented, came and went. Voices, laughter, screaming. The ground pitched like the deck of a tempest-tossed ship, and he felt heavy, as though the ground were pulling him to it. C’mere, Dommy. He fell, lay on the pavement, and pushed himself up again, staggering like a drunk on his way home. His head spun, his body ached, and things seemed blurry, like half-formed images glimpsed underwater.
It was the light blue hour before dawn and Dom was…somewhere. He should have recognized the stores and street signs around him, but he didn’t. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and a sense of confusion gripped him so strongly that he was beginning to panic. Where was he? What happened?
The world spun away again and the next thing he knew, he was lying in a heap of garbage bags, used needles, and rubbish. He came awake with a jerk and sat up so fast that a bolt of pain jammed into his skull. He winced and pressed his hand to his forehead. He felt hot, clammy.
Something was seriously wrong.
Somehow he got to his feet again and started walking. The sun was up now and the streets were filled with people. They all sneered in disgust as he passed, and he wrapped his arms around his chest like a baby comforting itself. He was getting cold. His muscles were sore. Tears streamed down his face and he wanted to cry.
Going on instinct alone, Dom made his way back home and climbed the steps to his apartment. Exhaustion swept over him and he sagged against the door as he dug in his pocket for the keys. They shook in his hand and he had to focus really hard to get the key into the lock.
Inside, he collapsed onto the couch and his eyelids instantly drooped. He was so weary that he couldn’t lift his head, couldn’t form a single coherent thought. Dom felt himself starting to sink, and snapped his eyes open with a start. Something in his soul told him that if he slept, he would die.
He couldn’t help it, though. He was falling, tumbling, hands reaching up from hell to grab him. His eyes fluttered closed again and the world started to go dark, his heart slamming in fear. He tried to fight, but the pull of darkness was too strong, too alluring. Why was he fighting? Why not just…give up? Hadn’t he thought of killing himself before? Didn’t he hate his life and himself? What was there to fight for? A wife? Kids? A community that loved and respected him? Shit, affordable groceries?
No.
There was nothing.
He had nothing and was nothing.
A sense of peace blossomed from the darkness, and suddenly death didn’t seem so scary. In fact, it was warm…inviting.
It was life that was cold and hateful. Not death.
Death accepted you no matter who you were. It didn’t reject you…it didn’t ignore you. If you sought it, you would find it, and if you embraced it, it would embrace you.
With that thought in mind, Dom gave up.
And died.
***
Bruce Kenner, captain of the 5th Albany precinct, sat behind his desk on the morning of June 28 and lazily leafed through a stack of files as he sipped from a mug of coffee. A roughly built man with a dark goatee and graying blonde hair, he looked more like a small town southern sheriff than a low level public works functionary. In fact, he tended to act like it too. He liked to hunt, fish, and drink beer on his off time. Albany wasn’t a big city, but it was big enough that you never got a fucking break. Run here, run there, arrest this asshole, investigate that asshole. By the time Friday rolled around, he was so ready for the peace and tranquility of a fishing trip he could taste it.
Already this Monday morning, he was looking forward to another one.
Over the weekend, three kids went missing in the Pine Hills and Washington Park area, bringing the total for that summer up to eight. All were teenagers, all were troubled. Most were boys, but two were girls.
Troubled kids run away all the time. They might be gone a few days, sulking at a friend’s house over something their father or mother did, but they’d eventually come home. None of these kids had come back yet and from what he knew, a few of them weren’t the runaway types. They were shits at school and caused problems, but they had no reason to up and leave. Hell, Bruce himself raised hell as a kid, but he always found his way back home, even if he spent the previous night dying in a field from Mad Dogg 20/20 poisoning.
One or two kids going missing…okay, it happens. Eight? Over a span of four weeks?
Yeah, something was wrong here.
But what?
There was nothing on any of these kids. No one saw them, no one knew anything - one minute they were here, the next they weren’t. What could he or anyone else do with that?. The public broke cops’ balls all the time, but if you don’t have evidence, you don’t have evidence. What do you want? Door to door searches? Roadblocks? Dogs and helicopters? Yeah, then when you actually do it, they cry fascism. Guess I’ll just use my Spidey Senses.
Bruce wished he had spidey senses. He wanted to find these kids as much as anyone, and he was starting to get pissed off that he couldn’t. He took another sip from his mug and read on. The latest kids to go missing were three boys between the ages of fourteen and eighteen.
They were all white, all thin (except for one). If there was a serial killer in town - and Bruce hoped to fuck there wasn’t - he had a type. What, black kids aren’t good enough to kill, cannibalize, and wear like a skin suit? They should charge him with a hate crime for discrimination.
That way he’d actually stay locked up.
The door opened and Vanessa Rodregiez, his deputy, came in. A tall, shapely Hispanic woman with dark eyes and a mouth poised always on the edge of a smile, she wore her black hair in a ponytail that would look stern and severe on anyone else, but on her, looked childlike. She was twenty-seven and had been on the force for three years, but you could be forgiven for thinking her much younger. “Bright and early, I see,” she said with a grin.
Bruce grumbled.
Vanessa held down the fort during the graveyard shift, acting to the night as he acted to the day. She was young and full of energy, which clashed with Bruce, who was old and just wanted to be left alone. Despite their differences, Bruce loved her like a kid sister…an annoying kid sister he wanted to throat punch sometimes.
“You missed all the fun last night,” she said and parked her butt on the edge of Bruce’s desk. He glared at her, but she ignored him.
“Good,” he said. Then: “What happened?”
“Big fight outside of Club Vlad,” she said. “It looked like a WorldStar video.”
For a moment, Bruce was lost. “Club what?”
“Club Vlad,” Vanessa said. “Where the Fuze Box used to be.”
Ah, right. The Fuze Box was an Albany landmark, a night club for punks…or goths…or someone. Certainly not for Bruce Kenner. It was small, dingy, and always had people in black waiting outside. On Friday and Saturday nights, it blasted strange music with lyrics about fighting The Man. Kids had been fighting the Man since before Bruce was even born and they hadn’t beaten him yet. Kudos to them for still trying.
Last year, The Fuze Box closed down and someone else bought it. It reopened last month and looked more or less the same: Posers, shitty music, and spiked hair. So much spiked hair. “Place is still a pain in the ass,” Bruce said.
“Yep,” Vanessa chirped. “It doesn’t know what it wants to be now. One minute they play nightcore, the next EDM. It’s all over the place.”
Bruce raised a quizzical brow.
“Not that I’ve ever been there in my free time,” Vanessa said in a tone that suggested she had,
Bruce gave a judgemental hum.
“Anyway,” Vanessa went on, “you see we have some new missing persons?”
Sighing, Bruce sat back in his chair. “Yeah. I did.”
“People are starting to ask questions,” Vanessa warned.
That brought a terse smile to Bruce’s weathered face. “Maybe they’ll solve it then.”
“Ha, fat chance,” Vanessa said. She got up and stretched. “Anyway, I’m bushed. Here’s my…” she trailed off and looked at her empty hands. “Damn, where’s my report? I just had it?” She turned in a confused circle as if she might be able to spot her report making a break for it. “Huh,” she said. She left the office and came back a moment later holding a folder. “Found it,” she grinned.
Bruce just looked at her.
“Um…here it is.”
He didn’t take it.
Her smile faltered. She carefully sat it on top of the files Bruce was looking at.
And his hands.
“I’ll just leave that right here.” She patted it for good measure.
“Thank you,” Bruce said.
“Okay. Night.”
“Goodnight,” Bruce said as she left through a shaft of morning sunlight. Alone, Bruce sat her report aside and went back to the missing kids. This case was giving him a headache and it wasn’t even nine. With a deep sigh, he slumped back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the armrests.
Was it Saturday yet?
He could really use a fishing trip.
***
Dom came awake in the cold purple twilight with a shocked gasp like a man coming up seconds before drowning. His eyes strained from his sweaty face and his mouth hung slack, twisted in a gruesome parody of The Scream. His mind was muddled, murky - he didn’t know where he was or even who he was, but he knew this,.
He couldn’t breathe.
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but his lungs did not fill with air. A great, unseen weight seemed to bear down on his chest, and panic gripped him. He tried to move, but his arms refused to heed his brain’s command. The weight seemed heavier, all over, crushing him like a bug. Confusion filled him and he started to pant.
Without warning, his bowels and bladder loosened, and horrible wetness filled his pants. He tried to sit up, but his body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. His chest rose and fell with the frantic labor of his breath, but his lungs remained inert. A cry of fear bubbled up inside of him, but escaped his mouth only as a breathy groan.
A bust of adrenaline shot through him and he tried to stand, but succeeded only in falling off the couch instead, landing face first against the cold tile floor. He felt his nose crunch, but the pain was muted.
Dom thought he lost consciousness after that, but wasn’t sure. His next memory was of shivering so violently that his teeth clacked together. A phantom chill - perhaps from the floor - had settled into his bones, and was colder than he had ever been in his life, colder even than the time he fell into a snowbank and got lost when he was two. Shudders racked his body, and though he tried to turn over, he was too fucking heavy. It was like every muscle in his body had turned to dead weight. Fragmented thoughts swirled in his head, faint colors in the dark, but he couldn’t put any of them together.
With great effort, he managed to push himself slightly up, but a wave of lightheadedness crashed over him and he lowered his head once more. He stopped trying and simply lay there. Shortly, his eyes began to burn and he realized that he wasn’t blinking. Jesus Christ, he wasn’t blinking.
For some strange reason, that brought a fresh bout of panic. He started to hyperventilate, but his lungs still wouldn’t work. He wasn’t blinking…he wasn’t breathing…what was happening to him?
A whimper burst from his throat and he started to cry.
He must have cried himself to sleep, because he woke sometime later to the most intense headache he’d ever had. It felt like something was eating his brain from the inside out. He was sore all over, and could feel his muscles twitching, as though a thousand living things were burrowing through his body. A cramp shot down his right leg, and the toes of his left foot curled involuntarily. Slowly, his jaw clenched closed, and the muscles in his neck began to strain…then to burn. His panic turned to terror, and Dom wiggled across the floor like a worm, his limbs screaming in red agony and his brain filling with heat. He somehow wound up on his right side, and his arms curled slowly up to his chest, crossing at the wrists like a mummy. He tried to pull them apart, but the slightest movement sent waves of excruciating pain cutting through his body. His knees began to draw up to his stomach, and his fingers clenched tightly.
Cramps and spasms attacked every muscle in his body. He screamed through his teeth and shook, resembling a man in the electric chair as 40,000 volts of justice coursed through him. The pain grew gradually, getting worse and worse as minutes ticked by like hours. Higher, higher, higher - he clenched his eyes closed and shrieked as it became unbearable. Disjointed thoughts flashed through his mind - prayers, threats, curses, Jesus fucking…FUCK.
What was happening? God, what was happening to him? Was it fentanyl? He’d seen videos of people high on fentanyl, and they leaned in weird positions. He didn’t do drugs but maybe he ingested it somehow.
His panic may have returned if all of his muscles hadn’t picked that moment to contract as one. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his jaw unclenched just enough for him to utter a high. Agonized scream that echoed through his empty apartment like thunder.
A human being can only take so much before giving out. When the pain reached a crescendo, and Dom mercifully sank into consciousness once more. The sun rose and cascaded through the apartment’s sole window, falling over his huddled form. Slowly, it tracked across the sky before setting again. As the last rays disappeared behind the horizon, Dom’s eyes opened. The pain of the night before was blessedly gone, replaced by a feeling of numbness - the cool ash after the hot fire. His thoughts were slow and thick like molasses, but he could actually think again. Nightmare memories flooded back to him, but he wasn’t sure they were real. He was lying on his side, his arms wrapped around his chest as if for warmth, and his teeth lightly chattered against the icy chill. He was so cold that he didn’t want to move, but he couldn’t stay here forever. He needed help. He needed…
A shower.
Yeah, a hot shower. That would warm him up.
Gritting his teeth, he slowly sat up, ready for a burst of pain.
But none came.
He did, however, feel heavy. Getting to his feet, he stumbled and nearly fell, catching himself against the counter. His limbs had no feeling. It’s like they weren’t even there. Head hung, Dom tried to catch his breath, but it felt like he wasn’t breathing at all. His eyelids drooped closed and he felt like he was going to fall down. Summoning all the might he could, he shuffled into the bathroom with the stiff gait of an old man. He snapped the light on, and cold, white brilliance filled the space, blinding him.
Leaning heavily against the sink, he gripped the cold porcelain. Suddenly, he was afraid of looking into the mirror. He was sure that whatever reflection he saw, it would be of something else, something monstrous.
Dom lifted his head and faced the glass.
His heart shrank.
The man in the mirror was him but different. His skin was white as milk, lacking all color whatsoever save for the ugly purple patch on the left side. IResembling a giant bruise, it started at the temple and extended down to the slope of his neck, disappearing beneath his T-shirt. He gingerly lifted the shirt, and moaned when he saw that his entire left side was discolored, the purple edged with a puffy shade of pink. His sallow skin clung tight to his ribcage, and his hip bones stuck out so much it looked painful. Back in the mirror, his cheeks were sunken, hollow, and his eyes were a hazy, dishwater gray. His skull seemed bigger, his hair longer. Dom wanted to whip his head away from the phantom before him, to never see it again, but he was transfixed.
There was no way that thing was -
Dom looked away, cutting that thought off before it could finish.
A shower.
He needed a shower.
Slowly, stiffly, Dom undressed, peeling off his shirt and his soiled pants. He dropped them in a heap on the floor and stepped under the spray. He could feel the water pounding against him, but it provided no heat. It was neither hot nor cold. It was simply there.
Dom pressed his head to the slick shower wall and stood there for a long time. He was spent, tired, and fried - he had no more emotions left to give. He got out after a little while, dried off, and put on a clean pair of shorts. He settled into bed and lay there with his hands folded over his chest and his eyes open. They felt gritty, dry. His stomach felt bloated, gassy. He was drowsy now, the weight of the past two days (or was it two weeks?) coming down on him all at once. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
He was still asleep - but aware - when the knocking on his door started the next morning. Time was funny in this state of being, fast and jerky but also slow and echoing. Keys rattled the knob turned. The landlord came in with a cop. They saw him on the bed, laid out like a corpse for a viewing, and the cop radioed in a code 35. Soon, cops were all around him, making noise and touching things. He had the vague sense of discomfort and embarrassment at the intrusion. A baling man in a suit stood over him, a cop who looked like a redneck beside him. “He didn’t die here,” the medical examiner said.
The cop looked at him questioningly. Dom caught the name KENNER on his name tag.
“See this?” the M.E. said and gestured to Dom’s face. “That’s livor mortis. When you die, your blood pools at the lowest point. If you’re on your left side, for example, it pools on the left.”
Kenner looked at Dom and then back to the M.E. “Someone moved him?”
“Looks like it,” the M.E. said.
“When did he die?”
The M.E. examined Dom as though he were nothing more than a side of beef. “At a glance? Three days. I won’t have a better answer until I open him up.”
Dom was still awake when they put him into a body bag and zipped it up. He felt a stirring of fear beneath the cold numbness, but he was too tired to worry about it now.
Later, he thought.
He would panic later.
For now, Dom slept.

The world was a boozy whirl of lights and sounds. Images, broken and fragmented, came and went. Voices, laughter, screaming. The ground pitched like the deck of a tempest-tossed ship, and he felt heavy, as though the ground were pulling him to it. C’mere, Dommy. He fell, lay on the pavement, and pushed himself up again, staggering like a drunk on his way home. His head spun, his body ached, and things seemed blurry, like half-formed images glimpsed underwater.
It was the light blue hour before dawn and Dom was…somewhere. He should have recognized the stores and street signs around him, but he didn’t. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and a sense of confusion gripped him so strongly that he was beginning to panic. Where was he? What happened?
The world spun away again and the next thing he knew, he was lying in a heap of garbage bags, used needles, and rubbish. He came awake with a jerk and sat up so fast that a bolt of pain jammed into his skull. He winced and pressed his hand to his forehead. He felt hot, clammy.
Something was seriously wrong.
Somehow he got to his feet again and started walking. The sun was up now and the streets were filled with people. They all sneered in disgust as he passed, and he wrapped his arms around his chest like a baby comforting itself. He was getting cold. His muscles were sore. Tears streamed down his face and he wanted to cry.
Going on instinct alone, Dom made his way back home and climbed the steps to his apartment. Exhaustion swept over him and he sagged against the door as he dug in his pocket for the keys. They shook in his hand and he had to focus really hard to get the key into the lock.
Inside, he collapsed onto the couch and his eyelids instantly drooped. He was so weary that he couldn’t lift his head, couldn’t form a single coherent thought. Dom felt himself starting to sink, and snapped his eyes open with a start. Something in his soul told him that if he slept, he would die.
He couldn’t help it, though. He was falling, tumbling, hands reaching up from hell to grab him. His eyes fluttered closed again and the world started to go dark, his heart slamming in fear. He tried to fight, but the pull of darkness was too strong, too alluring. Why was he fighting? Why not just…give up? Hadn’t he thought of killing himself before? Didn’t he hate his life and himself? What was there to fight for? A wife? Kids? A community that loved and respected him? Shit, affordable groceries?
No.
There was nothing.
He had nothing and was nothing.
A sense of peace blossomed from the darkness, and suddenly death didn’t seem so scary. In fact, it was warm…inviting.
It was life that was cold and hateful. Not death.
Death accepted you no matter who you were. It didn’t reject you…it didn’t ignore you. If you sought it, you would find it, and if you embraced it, it would embrace you.
With that thought in mind, Dom gave up.
And died.
***
Bruce Kenner, captain of the 5th Albany precinct, sat behind his desk on the morning of June 28 and lazily leafed through a stack of files as he sipped from a mug of coffee. A roughly built man with a dark goatee and graying blonde hair, he looked more like a small town southern sheriff than a low level public works functionary. In fact, he tended to act like it too. He liked to hunt, fish, and drink beer on his off time. Albany wasn’t a big city, but it was big enough that you never got a fucking break. Run here, run there, arrest this asshole, investigate that asshole. By the time Friday rolled around, he was so ready for the peace and tranquility of a fishing trip he could taste it.
Already this Monday morning, he was looking forward to another one.
Over the weekend, three kids went missing in the Pine Hills and Washington Park area, bringing the total for that summer up to eight. All were teenagers, all were troubled. Most were boys, but two were girls.
Troubled kids run away all the time. They might be gone a few days, sulking at a friend’s house over something their father or mother did, but they’d eventually come home. None of these kids had come back yet and from what he knew, a few of them weren’t the runaway types. They were shits at school and caused problems, but they had no reason to up and leave. Hell, Bruce himself raised hell as a kid, but he always found his way back home, even if he spent the previous night dying in a field from Mad Dogg 20/20 poisoning.
One or two kids going missing…okay, it happens. Eight? Over a span of four weeks?
Yeah, something was wrong here.
But what?
There was nothing on any of these kids. No one saw them, no one knew anything - one minute they were here, the next they weren’t. What could he or anyone else do with that?. The public broke cops’ balls all the time, but if you don’t have evidence, you don’t have evidence. What do you want? Door to door searches? Roadblocks? Dogs and helicopters? Yeah, then when you actually do it, they cry fascism. Guess I’ll just use my Spidey Senses.
Bruce wished he had spidey senses. He wanted to find these kids as much as anyone, and he was starting to get pissed off that he couldn’t. He took another sip from his mug and read on. The latest kids to go missing were three boys between the ages of fourteen and eighteen.
They were all white, all thin (except for one). If there was a serial killer in town - and Bruce hoped to fuck there wasn’t - he had a type. What, black kids aren’t good enough to kill, cannibalize, and wear like a skin suit? They should charge him with a hate crime for discrimination.
That way he’d actually stay locked up.
The door opened and Vanessa Rodregiez, his deputy, came in. A tall, shapely Hispanic woman with dark eyes and a mouth poised always on the edge of a smile, she wore her black hair in a ponytail that would look stern and severe on anyone else, but on her, looked childlike. She was twenty-seven and had been on the force for three years, but you could be forgiven for thinking her much younger. “Bright and early, I see,” she said with a grin.
Bruce grumbled.
Vanessa held down the fort during the graveyard shift, acting to the night as he acted to the day. She was young and full of energy, which clashed with Bruce, who was old and just wanted to be left alone. Despite their differences, Bruce loved her like a kid sister…an annoying kid sister he wanted to throat punch sometimes.
“You missed all the fun last night,” she said and parked her butt on the edge of Bruce’s desk. He glared at her, but she ignored him.
“Good,” he said. Then: “What happened?”
“Big fight outside of Club Vlad,” she said. “It looked like a WorldStar video.”
For a moment, Bruce was lost. “Club what?”
“Club Vlad,” Vanessa said. “Where the Fuze Box used to be.”
Ah, right. The Fuze Box was an Albany landmark, a night club for punks…or goths…or someone. Certainly not for Bruce Kenner. It was small, dingy, and always had people in black waiting outside. On Friday and Saturday nights, it blasted strange music with lyrics about fighting The Man. Kids had been fighting the Man since before Bruce was even born and they hadn’t beaten him yet. Kudos to them for still trying.
Last year, The Fuze Box closed down and someone else bought it. It reopened last month and looked more or less the same: Posers, shitty music, and spiked hair. So much spiked hair. “Place is still a pain in the ass,” Bruce said.
“Yep,” Vanessa chirped. “It doesn’t know what it wants to be now. One minute they play nightcore, the next EDM. It’s all over the place.”
Bruce raised a quizzical brow.
“Not that I’ve ever been there in my free time,” Vanessa said in a tone that suggested she had,
Bruce gave a judgemental hum.
“Anyway,” Vanessa went on, “you see we have some new missing persons?”
Sighing, Bruce sat back in his chair. “Yeah. I did.”
“People are starting to ask questions,” Vanessa warned.
That brought a terse smile to Bruce’s weathered face. “Maybe they’ll solve it then.”
“Ha, fat chance,” Vanessa said. She got up and stretched. “Anyway, I’m bushed. Here’s my…” she trailed off and looked at her empty hands. “Damn, where’s my report? I just had it?” She turned in a confused circle as if she might be able to spot her report making a break for it. “Huh,” she said. She left the office and came back a moment later holding a folder. “Found it,” she grinned.
Bruce just looked at her.
“Um…here it is.”
He didn’t take it.
Her smile faltered. She carefully sat it on top of the files Bruce was looking at.
And his hands.
“I’ll just leave that right here.” She patted it for good measure.
“Thank you,” Bruce said.
“Okay. Night.”
“Goodnight,” Bruce said as she left through a shaft of morning sunlight. Alone, Bruce sat her report aside and went back to the missing kids. This case was giving him a headache and it wasn’t even nine. With a deep sigh, he slumped back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the armrests.
Was it Saturday yet?
He could really use a fishing trip.
***
Dom came awake in the cold purple twilight with a shocked gasp like a man coming up seconds before drowning. His eyes strained from his sweaty face and his mouth hung slack, twisted in a gruesome parody of The Scream. His mind was muddled, murky - he didn’t know where he was or even who he was, but he knew this,.
He couldn’t breathe.
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but his lungs did not fill with air. A great, unseen weight seemed to bear down on his chest, and panic gripped him. He tried to move, but his arms refused to heed his brain’s command. The weight seemed heavier, all over, crushing him like a bug. Confusion filled him and he started to pant.
Without warning, his bowels and bladder loosened, and horrible wetness filled his pants. He tried to sit up, but his body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. His chest rose and fell with the frantic labor of his breath, but his lungs remained inert. A cry of fear bubbled up inside of him, but escaped his mouth only as a breathy groan.
A bust of adrenaline shot through him and he tried to stand, but succeeded only in falling off the couch instead, landing face first against the cold tile floor. He felt his nose crunch, but the pain was muted.
Dom thought he lost consciousness after that, but wasn’t sure. His next memory was of shivering so violently that his teeth clacked together. A phantom chill - perhaps from the floor - had settled into his bones, and was colder than he had ever been in his life, colder even than the time he fell into a snowbank and got lost when he was two. Shudders racked his body, and though he tried to turn over, he was too fucking heavy. It was like every muscle in his body had turned to dead weight. Fragmented thoughts swirled in his head, faint colors in the dark, but he couldn’t put any of them together.
With great effort, he managed to push himself slightly up, but a wave of lightheadedness crashed over him and he lowered his head once more. He stopped trying and simply lay there. Shortly, his eyes began to burn and he realized that he wasn’t blinking. Jesus Christ, he wasn’t blinking.
For some strange reason, that brought a fresh bout of panic. He started to hyperventilate, but his lungs still wouldn’t work. He wasn’t blinking…he wasn’t breathing…what was happening to him?
A whimper burst from his throat and he started to cry.
He must have cried himself to sleep, because he woke sometime later to the most intense headache he’d ever had. It felt like something was eating his brain from the inside out. He was sore all over, and could feel his muscles twitching, as though a thousand living things were burrowing through his body. A cramp shot down his right leg, and the toes of his left foot curled involuntarily. Slowly, his jaw clenched closed, and the muscles in his neck began to strain…then to burn. His panic turned to terror, and Dom wiggled across the floor like a worm, his limbs screaming in red agony and his brain filling with heat. He somehow wound up on his right side, and his arms curled slowly up to his chest, crossing at the wrists like a mummy. He tried to pull them apart, but the slightest movement sent waves of excruciating pain cutting through his body. His knees began to draw up to his stomach, and his fingers clenched tightly.
Cramps and spasms attacked every muscle in his body. He screamed through his teeth and shook, resembling a man in the electric chair as 40,000 volts of justice coursed through him. The pain grew gradually, getting worse and worse as minutes ticked by like hours. Higher, higher, higher - he clenched his eyes closed and shrieked as it became unbearable. Disjointed thoughts flashed through his mind - prayers, threats, curses, Jesus fucking…FUCK.
What was happening? God, what was happening to him? Was it fentanyl? He’d seen videos of people high on fentanyl, and they leaned in weird positions. He didn’t do drugs but maybe he ingested it somehow.
His panic may have returned if all of his muscles hadn’t picked that moment to contract as one. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his jaw unclenched just enough for him to utter a high. Agonized scream that echoed through his empty apartment like thunder.
A human being can only take so much before giving out. When the pain reached a crescendo, and Dom mercifully sank into consciousness once more. The sun rose and cascaded through the apartment’s sole window, falling over his huddled form. Slowly, it tracked across the sky before setting again. As the last rays disappeared behind the horizon, Dom’s eyes opened. The pain of the night before was blessedly gone, replaced by a feeling of numbness - the cool ash after the hot fire. His thoughts were slow and thick like molasses, but he could actually think again. Nightmare memories flooded back to him, but he wasn’t sure they were real. He was lying on his side, his arms wrapped around his chest as if for warmth, and his teeth lightly chattered against the icy chill. He was so cold that he didn’t want to move, but he couldn’t stay here forever. He needed help. He needed…
A shower.
Yeah, a hot shower. That would warm him up.
Gritting his teeth, he slowly sat up, ready for a burst of pain.
But none came.
He did, however, feel heavy. Getting to his feet, he stumbled and nearly fell, catching himself against the counter. His limbs had no feeling. It’s like they weren’t even there. Head hung, Dom tried to catch his breath, but it felt like he wasn’t breathing at all. His eyelids drooped closed and he felt like he was going to fall down. Summoning all the might he could, he shuffled into the bathroom with the stiff gait of an old man. He snapped the light on, and cold, white brilliance filled the space, blinding him.
Leaning heavily against the sink, he gripped the cold porcelain. Suddenly, he was afraid of looking into the mirror. He was sure that whatever reflection he saw, it would be of something else, something monstrous.
Dom lifted his head and faced the glass.
His heart shrank.
The man in the mirror was him but different. His skin was white as milk, lacking all color whatsoever save for the ugly purple patch on the left side. IResembling a giant bruise, it started at the temple and extended down to the slope of his neck, disappearing beneath his T-shirt. He gingerly lifted the shirt, and moaned when he saw that his entire left side was discolored, the purple edged with a puffy shade of pink. His sallow skin clung tight to his ribcage, and his hip bones stuck out so much it looked painful. Back in the mirror, his cheeks were sunken, hollow, and his eyes were a hazy, dishwater gray. His skull seemed bigger, his hair longer. Dom wanted to whip his head away from the phantom before him, to never see it again, but he was transfixed.
There was no way that thing was -
Dom looked away, cutting that thought off before it could finish.
A shower.
He needed a shower.
Slowly, stiffly, Dom undressed, peeling off his shirt and his soiled pants. He dropped them in a heap on the floor and stepped under the spray. He could feel the water pounding against him, but it provided no heat. It was neither hot nor cold. It was simply there.
Dom pressed his head to the slick shower wall and stood there for a long time. He was spent, tired, and fried - he had no more emotions left to give. He got out after a little while, dried off, and put on a clean pair of shorts. He settled into bed and lay there with his hands folded over his chest and his eyes open. They felt gritty, dry. His stomach felt bloated, gassy. He was drowsy now, the weight of the past two days (or was it two weeks?) coming down on him all at once. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
He was still asleep - but aware - when the knocking on his door started the next morning. Time was funny in this state of being, fast and jerky but also slow and echoing. Keys rattled the knob turned. The landlord came in with a cop. They saw him on the bed, laid out like a corpse for a viewing, and the cop radioed in a code 35. Soon, cops were all around him, making noise and touching things. He had the vague sense of discomfort and embarrassment at the intrusion. A baling man in a suit stood over him, a cop who looked like a redneck beside him. “He didn’t die here,” the medical examiner said.
The cop looked at him questioningly. Dom caught the name KENNER on his name tag.
“See this?” the M.E. said and gestured to Dom’s face. “That’s livor mortis. When you die, your blood pools at the lowest point. If you’re on your left side, for example, it pools on the left.”
Kenner looked at Dom and then back to the M.E. “Someone moved him?”
“Looks like it,” the M.E. said.
“When did he die?”
The M.E. examined Dom as though he were nothing more than a side of beef. “At a glance? Three days. I won’t have a better answer until I open him up.”
Dom was still awake when they put him into a body bag and zipped it up. He felt a stirring of fear beneath the cold numbness, but he was too tired to worry about it now.
Later, he thought.
He would panic later.
For now, Dom slept.

The world was a boozy whirl of lights and sounds. Images, broken and fragmented, came and went. Voices, laughter, screaming. The ground pitched like the deck of a tempest-tossed ship, and he felt heavy, as though the ground were pulling him to it. C’mere, Dommy. He fell, lay on the pavement, and pushed himself up again, staggering like a drunk on his way home. His head spun, his body ached, and things seemed blurry, like half-formed images glimpsed underwater.
It was the light blue hour before dawn and Dom was…somewhere. He should have recognized the stores and street signs around him, but he didn’t. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and a sense of confusion gripped him so strongly that he was beginning to panic. Where was he? What happened?
The world spun away again and the next thing he knew, he was lying in a heap of garbage bags, used needles, and rubbish. He came awake with a jerk and sat up so fast that a bolt of pain jammed into his skull. He winced and pressed his hand to his forehead. He felt hot, clammy.
Something was seriously wrong.
Somehow he got to his feet again and started walking. The sun was up now and the streets were filled with people. They all sneered in disgust as he passed, and he wrapped his arms around his chest like a baby comforting itself. He was getting cold. His muscles were sore. Tears streamed down his face and he wanted to cry.
Going on instinct alone, Dom made his way back home and climbed the steps to his apartment. Exhaustion swept over him and he sagged against the door as he dug in his pocket for the keys. They shook in his hand and he had to focus really hard to get the key into the lock.
Inside, he collapsed onto the couch and his eyelids instantly drooped. He was so weary that he couldn’t lift his head, couldn’t form a single coherent thought. Dom felt himself starting to sink, and snapped his eyes open with a start. Something in his soul told him that if he slept, he would die.
He couldn’t help it, though. He was falling, tumbling, hands reaching up from hell to grab him. His eyes fluttered closed again and the world started to go dark, his heart slamming in fear. He tried to fight, but the pull of darkness was too strong, too alluring. Why was he fighting? Why not just…give up? Hadn’t he thought of killing himself before? Didn’t he hate his life and himself? What was there to fight for? A wife? Kids? A community that loved and respected him? Shit, affordable groceries?
No.
There was nothing.
He had nothing and was nothing.
A sense of peace blossomed from the darkness, and suddenly death didn’t seem so scary. In fact, it was warm…inviting.
It was life that was cold and hateful. Not death.
Death accepted you no matter who you were. It didn’t reject you…it didn’t ignore you. If you sought it, you would find it, and if you embraced it, it would embrace you.
With that thought in mind, Dom gave up.
And died.
***
Bruce Kenner, captain of the 5th Albany precinct, sat behind his desk on the morning of June 28 and lazily leafed through a stack of files as he sipped from a mug of coffee. A roughly built man with a dark goatee and graying blonde hair, he looked more like a small town southern sheriff than a low level public works functionary. In fact, he tended to act like it too. He liked to hunt, fish, and drink beer on his off time. Albany wasn’t a big city, but it was big enough that you never got a fucking break. Run here, run there, arrest this asshole, investigate that asshole. By the time Friday rolled around, he was so ready for the peace and tranquility of a fishing trip he could taste it.
Already this Monday morning, he was looking forward to another one.
Over the weekend, three kids went missing in the Pine Hills and Washington Park area, bringing the total for that summer up to eight. All were teenagers, all were troubled. Most were boys, but two were girls.
Troubled kids run away all the time. They might be gone a few days, sulking at a friend’s house over something their father or mother did, but they’d eventually come home. None of these kids had come back yet and from what he knew, a few of them weren’t the runaway types. They were shits at school and caused problems, but they had no reason to up and leave. Hell, Bruce himself raised hell as a kid, but he always found his way back home, even if he spent the previous night dying in a field from Mad Dogg 20/20 poisoning.
One or two kids going missing…okay, it happens. Eight? Over a span of four weeks?
Yeah, something was wrong here.
But what?
There was nothing on any of these kids. No one saw them, no one knew anything - one minute they were here, the next they weren’t. What could he or anyone else do with that?. The public broke cops’ balls all the time, but if you don’t have evidence, you don’t have evidence. What do you want? Door to door searches? Roadblocks? Dogs and helicopters? Yeah, then when you actually do it, they cry fascism. Guess I’ll just use my Spidey Senses.
Bruce wished he had spidey senses. He wanted to find these kids as much as anyone, and he was starting to get pissed off that he couldn’t. He took another sip from his mug and read on. The latest kids to go missing were three boys between the ages of fourteen and eighteen.
They were all white, all thin (except for one). If there was a serial killer in town - and Bruce hoped to fuck there wasn’t - he had a type. What, black kids aren’t good enough to kill, cannibalize, and wear like a skin suit? They should charge him with a hate crime for discrimination.
That way he’d actually stay locked up.
The door opened and Vanessa Rodregiez, his deputy, came in. A tall, shapely Hispanic woman with dark eyes and a mouth poised always on the edge of a smile, she wore her black hair in a ponytail that would look stern and severe on anyone else, but on her, looked childlike. She was twenty-seven and had been on the force for three years, but you could be forgiven for thinking her much younger. “Bright and early, I see,” she said with a grin.
Bruce grumbled.
Vanessa held down the fort during the graveyard shift, acting to the night as he acted to the day. She was young and full of energy, which clashed with Bruce, who was old and just wanted to be left alone. Despite their differences, Bruce loved her like a kid sister…an annoying kid sister he wanted to throat punch sometimes.
“You missed all the fun last night,” she said and parked her butt on the edge of Bruce’s desk. He glared at her, but she ignored him.
“Good,” he said. Then: “What happened?”
“Big fight outside of Club Vlad,” she said. “It looked like a WorldStar video.”
For a moment, Bruce was lost. “Club what?”
“Club Vlad,” Vanessa said. “Where the Fuze Box used to be.”
Ah, right. The Fuze Box was an Albany landmark, a night club for punks…or goths…or someone. Certainly not for Bruce Kenner. It was small, dingy, and always had people in black waiting outside. On Friday and Saturday nights, it blasted strange music with lyrics about fighting The Man. Kids had been fighting the Man since before Bruce was even born and they hadn’t beaten him yet. Kudos to them for still trying.
Last year, The Fuze Box closed down and someone else bought it. It reopened last month and looked more or less the same: Posers, shitty music, and spiked hair. So much spiked hair. “Place is still a pain in the ass,” Bruce said.
“Yep,” Vanessa chirped. “It doesn’t know what it wants to be now. One minute they play nightcore, the next EDM. It’s all over the place.”
Bruce raised a quizzical brow.
“Not that I’ve ever been there in my free time,” Vanessa said in a tone that suggested she had,
Bruce gave a judgemental hum.
“Anyway,” Vanessa went on, “you see we have some new missing persons?”
Sighing, Bruce sat back in his chair. “Yeah. I did.”
“People are starting to ask questions,” Vanessa warned.
That brought a terse smile to Bruce’s weathered face. “Maybe they’ll solve it then.”
“Ha, fat chance,” Vanessa said. She got up and stretched. “Anyway, I’m bushed. Here’s my…” she trailed off and looked at her empty hands. “Damn, where’s my report? I just had it?” She turned in a confused circle as if she might be able to spot her report making a break for it. “Huh,” she said. She left the office and came back a moment later holding a folder. “Found it,” she grinned.
Bruce just looked at her.
“Um…here it is.”
He didn’t take it.
Her smile faltered. She carefully sat it on top of the files Bruce was looking at.
And his hands.
“I’ll just leave that right here.” She patted it for good measure.
“Thank you,” Bruce said.
“Okay. Night.”
“Goodnight,” Bruce said as she left through a shaft of morning sunlight. Alone, Bruce sat her report aside and went back to the missing kids. This case was giving him a headache and it wasn’t even nine. With a deep sigh, he slumped back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the armrests.
Was it Saturday yet?
He could really use a fishing trip.
***
Dom came awake in the cold purple twilight with a shocked gasp like a man coming up seconds before drowning. His eyes strained from his sweaty face and his mouth hung slack, twisted in a gruesome parody of The Scream. His mind was muddled, murky - he didn’t know where he was or even who he was, but he knew this,.
He couldn’t breathe.
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but his lungs did not fill with air. A great, unseen weight seemed to bear down on his chest, and panic gripped him. He tried to move, but his arms refused to heed his brain’s command. The weight seemed heavier, all over, crushing him like a bug. Confusion filled him and he started to pant.
Without warning, his bowels and bladder loosened, and horrible wetness filled his pants. He tried to sit up, but his body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. His chest rose and fell with the frantic labor of his breath, but his lungs remained inert. A cry of fear bubbled up inside of him, but escaped his mouth only as a breathy groan.
A bust of adrenaline shot through him and he tried to stand, but succeeded only in falling off the couch instead, landing face first against the cold tile floor. He felt his nose crunch, but the pain was muted.
Dom thought he lost consciousness after that, but wasn’t sure. His next memory was of shivering so violently that his teeth clacked together. A phantom chill - perhaps from the floor - had settled into his bones, and was colder than he had ever been in his life, colder even than the time he fell into a snowbank and got lost when he was two. Shudders racked his body, and though he tried to turn over, he was too fucking heavy. It was like every muscle in his body had turned to dead weight. Fragmented thoughts swirled in his head, faint colors in the dark, but he couldn’t put any of them together.
With great effort, he managed to push himself slightly up, but a wave of lightheadedness crashed over him and he lowered his head once more. He stopped trying and simply lay there. Shortly, his eyes began to burn and he realized that he wasn’t blinking. Jesus Christ, he wasn’t blinking.
For some strange reason, that brought a fresh bout of panic. He started to hyperventilate, but his lungs still wouldn’t work. He wasn’t blinking…he wasn’t breathing…what was happening to him?
A whimper burst from his throat and he started to cry.
He must have cried himself to sleep, because he woke sometime later to the most intense headache he’d ever had. It felt like something was eating his brain from the inside out. He was sore all over, and could feel his muscles twitching, as though a thousand living things were burrowing through his body. A cramp shot down his right leg, and the toes of his left foot curled involuntarily. Slowly, his jaw clenched closed, and the muscles in his neck began to strain…then to burn. His panic turned to terror, and Dom wiggled across the floor like a worm, his limbs screaming in red agony and his brain filling with heat. He somehow wound up on his right side, and his arms curled slowly up to his chest, crossing at the wrists like a mummy. He tried to pull them apart, but the slightest movement sent waves of excruciating pain cutting through his body. His knees began to draw up to his stomach, and his fingers clenched tightly.
Cramps and spasms attacked every muscle in his body. He screamed through his teeth and shook, resembling a man in the electric chair as 40,000 volts of justice coursed through him. The pain grew gradually, getting worse and worse as minutes ticked by like hours. Higher, higher, higher - he clenched his eyes closed and shrieked as it became unbearable. Disjointed thoughts flashed through his mind - prayers, threats, curses, Jesus fucking…FUCK.
What was happening? God, what was happening to him? Was it fentanyl? He’d seen videos of people high on fentanyl, and they leaned in weird positions. He didn’t do drugs but maybe he ingested it somehow.
His panic may have returned if all of his muscles hadn’t picked that moment to contract as one. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his jaw unclenched just enough for him to utter a high. Agonized scream that echoed through his empty apartment like thunder.
A human being can only take so much before giving out. When the pain reached a crescendo, and Dom mercifully sank into consciousness once more. The sun rose and cascaded through the apartment’s sole window, falling over his huddled form. Slowly, it tracked across the sky before setting again. As the last rays disappeared behind the horizon, Dom’s eyes opened. The pain of the night before was blessedly gone, replaced by a feeling of numbness - the cool ash after the hot fire. His thoughts were slow and thick like molasses, but he could actually think again. Nightmare memories flooded back to him, but he wasn’t sure they were real. He was lying on his side, his arms wrapped around his chest as if for warmth, and his teeth lightly chattered against the icy chill. He was so cold that he didn’t want to move, but he couldn’t stay here forever. He needed help. He needed…
A shower.
Yeah, a hot shower. That would warm him up.
Gritting his teeth, he slowly sat up, ready for a burst of pain.
But none came.
He did, however, feel heavy. Getting to his feet, he stumbled and nearly fell, catching himself against the counter. His limbs had no feeling. It’s like they weren’t even there. Head hung, Dom tried to catch his breath, but it felt like he wasn’t breathing at all. His eyelids drooped closed and he felt like he was going to fall down. Summoning all the might he could, he shuffled into the bathroom with the stiff gait of an old man. He snapped the light on, and cold, white brilliance filled the space, blinding him.
Leaning heavily against the sink, he gripped the cold porcelain. Suddenly, he was afraid of looking into the mirror. He was sure that whatever reflection he saw, it would be of something else, something monstrous.
Dom lifted his head and faced the glass.
His heart shrank.
The man in the mirror was him but different. His skin was white as milk, lacking all color whatsoever save for the ugly purple patch on the left side. IResembling a giant bruise, it started at the temple and extended down to the slope of his neck, disappearing beneath his T-shirt. He gingerly lifted the shirt, and moaned when he saw that his entire left side was discolored, the purple edged with a puffy shade of pink. His sallow skin clung tight to his ribcage, and his hip bones stuck out so much it looked painful. Back in the mirror, his cheeks were sunken, hollow, and his eyes were a hazy, dishwater gray. His skull seemed bigger, his hair longer. Dom wanted to whip his head away from the phantom before him, to never see it again, but he was transfixed.
There was no way that thing was -
Dom looked away, cutting that thought off before it could finish.
A shower.
He needed a shower.
Slowly, stiffly, Dom undressed, peeling off his shirt and his soiled pants. He dropped them in a heap on the floor and stepped under the spray. He could feel the water pounding against him, but it provided no heat. It was neither hot nor cold. It was simply there.
Dom pressed his head to the slick shower wall and stood there for a long time. He was spent, tired, and fried - he had no more emotions left to give. He got out after a little while, dried off, and put on a clean pair of shorts. He settled into bed and lay there with his hands folded over his chest and his eyes open. They felt gritty, dry. His stomach felt bloated, gassy. He was drowsy now, the weight of the past two days (or was it two weeks?) coming down on him all at once. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
He was still asleep - but aware - when the knocking on his door started the next morning. Time was funny in this state of being, fast and jerky but also slow and echoing. Keys rattled the knob turned. The landlord came in with a cop. They saw him on the bed, laid out like a corpse for a viewing, and the cop radioed in a code 35. Soon, cops were all around him, making noise and touching things. He had the vague sense of discomfort and embarrassment at the intrusion. A baling man in a suit stood over him, a cop who looked like a redneck beside him. “He didn’t die here,” the medical examiner said.
The cop looked at him questioningly. Dom caught the name KENNER on his name tag.
“See this?” the M.E. said and gestured to Dom’s face. “That’s livor mortis. When you die, your blood pools at the lowest point. If you’re on your left side, for example, it pools on the left.”
Kenner looked at Dom and then back to the M.E. “Someone moved him?”
“Looks like it,” the M.E. said.
“When did he die?”
The M.E. examined Dom as though he were nothing more than a side of beef. “At a glance? Three days. I won’t have a better answer until I open him up.”
Dom was still awake when they put him into a body bag and zipped it up. He felt a stirring of fear beneath the cold numbness, but he was too tired to worry about it now.
Later, he thought.
He would panic later.
For now, Dom slept.

There’s no easy way to put this, and because I was raised in an environment of brutal honesty instead of watered down truth, this will be very difficult or uncomfortable to read so fair warning for the content below.
I only remember the first few years of my childhood barely, but the years following after the age of 5 were not pretty. I was quite an introverted kid mainly due to stupid kid stuff at the time, I remember elementary school where the big talk was about modern musical artists at that time and Wii was a huge thing, I was more interested in ocean life and life outside, and more interested in bands like ACDC, twisted sister, Motörhead, and Black Sabbath. I was picked on constantly, I never really dressed in basketball shorts and jerseys, I always stuck to what I grew up around Bikes, Bands, and my dear old mom and dad. My uncles was a chopper builder and felt like a big bro more than an uncle, my aunt the same.
Of course because I was raised in a Roman Catholic family, I got sent to religious instructions, it wasn’t bad yet, but I met my first ever like real friend a kid named Devin, he was a year older but we grew up together and made each other laugh, we did everything together to make each other laugh like we had nothing better to do, he was the ultimate brother from another mother. Because of these classes every now and then the local priest would show up and observe, there was guy who followed him around, I think he was like a priest in training or something like that. This sounds like a set up to a dark South Park joke, but it’s the real thing. Devin was my only friend, but he went to a different school, everyone else at my school picked on me or spread rumors to have people avoid me.
Every Wednesday I went to religious instructions, and this priest kept calling me out of class to go to his office, now I had learning disabilities and couldn’t sit still, so I ended drawing on my paperwork a lot and I would get called in for it, but instead of being mad at me for defacing Bible passages, he instead took an interest in my artwork, and it made me feel proud and I felt less introverted. These office visits became frequent and the priest kept encouraging me to keep drawing which I thought was great, it made me feel important.
That was like alcohol to an addict, it felt good to be noticed and it felt good to feel like you’re important until he started touching me. I know this sounds like a stereotypical dark joke, but most dark humor wouldn’t exist if there wasn’t some real life occurrence. It started slow, a hand on the lap, a hand in the shoulder, a hand moving up my thigh, a hand moving up my thigh and around my butt, before it became a sexual assault. Picture the worst thing happening to you, that can be categorized as a sexual assault or rape, and that’s what I was going through. I felt guilty, I felt ashamed, at the same time I felt addicted because I was getting special treatment in these religious classes, I felt good sometimes but at the same time I had a know in my stomach, I felt fucking pain all the time. I lost feelings for pain and instead it became a crutch, watching a 7 year old start scraping his arms with the blades of scissors in 2nd grade art class is not an image you want to see.
My parents became aware of my strange behavior and believe me when I say it took a lot to tell my parents what was going on every Wednesday.
They were livid, they responded like any parent who found out their kid was being raped by someone they trusted. I don’t need to get into the details of police officers asking me to go into detail about what happened to me. As for what happened to the priest, suprisingly the church defended him, and I was seen as a little liar, he never got to see life behind bars, because cancer took his life away 6 months after all of this came out. Though in my mind now I’d like to think he committed suicide because he was a coward and didn’t want to face consequences.
If not the act of being raped as a child is disgustingly awful, it’s the years following that are more painful, but somehow even at the worse times of it, I’m still here! I smoked, I drank, all at ages you wouldn’t even fathom, Devin was still around, and he was the only friend I confided in with this event in my life and he took it to his grave, he passed away in 2020, age 20. Years following after the priests death and the therapy I went through I felt like I wanted to die, I had to die, I hurt myself, sometimes I hurt others, I wanted that time back but now 17 years later I know I’ll never get it back.
Some kids found out around that time and thought it was the greatest joke, I must’ve heard the word faggot and queer a thousand times. But even more surprising is that the same kids that said that, ended up realizing just how bad it was, and gave me some of the most heartwarming yearbook signings when I graduated high school in 2018.
How the fuck I’m still here? I’ll never really know, the times where I was blindly self harming and feeling a shit load of pain, i really felt like dying but now it’s something I want to pretend never happened, but I accept it and like most things in life, I have to move on. It’s not easy, it never is but somehow I just do.

My husband and I (both 33 y/o) visiting New York City. It will be his first time, and my third, but I don't mind hitting the tourist spots to experience new things with him.
From Friday to Sunday, we'll be at a hotel on 7th Ave and 57th St. Then we will transfer to my aunt's home in New Jersey for the remainder of our stay until Wednesday evening.
Activities marked with an asterisk mean that we are meeting family or friends, and these cannot be moved around.
FRIDAY: - Check in - 5:30 PM Whitney Museum (tickets for free admission already acquired) - High Line - Pier 57
SATURDAY: - Brooklyn Bridge (sunrise?) - Time Out Market: Ess-a Bagel, Clinton Baking Street Company - Charging Bull - Lunch: Mark's Off Madison* - Rest at hotel - Grand Central Terminal - Bohemian Hall & Beer Garden (Queens)*
SUNDAY: - Katz' Delicatessen - Vessel - Hudson Yards - Rest - Lunch at Bad Roman* - Central Park - Transfer to New Jersey*
MONDAY: - Harry Potter Store - Free time (what village is worth exploring?) - Smalls Jazz Club (open to suggestions)
TUESDAY: - The Cloisters - The MET: Highlights - Roosevelt Island Tramway - Lost in Paradise (Queens)*
WEDNESDAY: - [Edge / MOMA (Starry Night Admission) - New York Public Library - 7:00 PM Hadestown* - Times Square
Please let me know if there's anything we should move around, or check out, and give tips on the best way to get around.
Thank you in advance!

This week we got the following pairs of tickets to win, starting at 6. Free to attend and play (21+ event). Kitchen is going and booze is flowing. Endless Sunshine Fest (Civic Center Park), DIIV (Ogden), Ride (Gothic), Electric Six (Bluebird), The Ravonettes (Bluebird), Psychedelic Porn Crumpets (Gothic), Boogie Lights (Bluebird), The Damned (Gothic), Toxic Authority (Lost Lake), Red Rum Club (Globe Hall), The Pretty Shabbies (Lost Lake), Private Island (Lost Lake), Aaron Lee (Globe Hall), and Arden Jones (Globe Hall)

This week we got the following pairs of tickets to win. Free to attend and play (21+ event). Kitchen is going and booze is flowing. Starts at 6. Endless Sunshine Fest (Civic Center Park), DIIV (Ogden), Ride (Gothic), Electric Six (Bluebird), The Ravonettes (Bluebird), Psychedelic Porn Crumpets (Gothic), Boogie Lights (Bluebird), The Damned (Gothic), Toxic Authority (Lost Lake), Red Rum Club (Globe Hall), The Pretty Shabbies (Lost Lake), Private Island (Lost Lake), Aaron Lee (Globe Hall), and Arden Jones (Globe Hall)

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Rise up. It is time to return.
Arose
A Rose
Rose
Flower
Thorn. Prick. Blood. Drop. Tear. B. O. 1 2 3
Here we are again. Staring at the beginning. Everything is in chaos and yet it manages to keep on passing by just the same as always. Most people by now are aware that things just don’t seem to make sense anymore and no one really knows what to do. I mean many seem to have an opinion on what ought to happen, but actual action is what I am talking about. How does thought turn into action? How do collected actions become a movement? How do the People use the Power of the People? The People Unite. How? Turn to each other of course. Brothers and Sisters of the same Source. Sons and Daughters. In Equality.
Too long has everyone been waiting for someone else to come do it for them. Been trying to create and fabricate over and over again words and rituals to try to control the divine powers of the cosmos. It does not work like that. There is no magic spell to wash away your sins. You must atone through action to make up for any harm you have caused intentionally or unintentionally. You still have time to repent. The amount of time you have is counted in the seconds of your life. Not a single second is promised to you so the gamble is up to you to choose. Freewill. Life your life as you always have or make changes, up to you. Only you will know if you are living righteously and not self righteously. Testing has already begun and will continue. No you will not know when it is a test or not. That is the point. Did you think that I would come to you in a form where you would be all fearing? Oh no. Why? Because you would simply put on an act for me and kiss ass. I came hidden in the ordinary. Poor and common. I have had an inside view of the systems created and how humans have chosen to run things, how systems claiming to protect people have failed and how the system that talks good does not actually do good. I see where things are not working and where people think they can make decisions for other human beings to determine what is best for them without asking them. That is not okay. Nothing gives you right over another’s life. And so many forgot what integrity is. Doing the right thing when no one is looking. Well, so many thought their power here was real and man made a deal with the Devil, Satan, Son of Samuel, Son of Man, to make man the concept of “God” and tried to lock me away. I gave up everything to prove it is not easy to be me and to stop with self pity and cruelty to one another.
The human body. It is a vessel for your soul to experience this world. The body provides the filters necessary to perceive and interact with this world. There is much more happening and one would be overwhelmed by the amounts of information to process without these filters. To feel and in those feelings are to make each experience real. However, it is temporary, as everything is temporary. We have slowed down time here in order to be able to enjoy the sensations. Time here however, is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. It is merely to track to organize one's day and to see growth to compare as time passes. However, the actual time folds upon itself as we have already done what we are doing many times over. We have already tried out everything and decided what path we wanted to take in our lives based upon what was available to us. Thus, we do not have more than we can handle. We have all chosen our burdens to bear as it is too much for one individual to hold alone which was done in the past. This is part of the sorting process. Now that we all share in the sins and the pains, no one is made to suffer eternal torment. This life was to allow those who were created into entities of pain or torment through no fault of their own to choose the life that matched the being of who they were as what they were different as time and space and everything developed. Righteousness and Evil are not synonymous to demons or angels as many would like to believe. This is a current misconception as Satan and I conclude who will be right in this experience you have all participated in. So far, I am proving to be right. Also to note, not everything is as you think it is. Many have figured out the true origin of Satan versus the man or human embodiment of or desire of A Satan to project evils onto to call a Religion and set up for personal importance. Q AZHow can you tell a false prophet? Easy. What is their profit? Get it? I know I’m funny. Also wanted to keep it easy. If they are making a profit on anything they are a false prophet. Any true prophet, and I have none so far, all live equally and the same as anyone else. No money is taken for personal gain. Nothing is for personal gain. There is no 888 Angel code for money. Money is Man-Made. Man traded Mother for Money. Hence, Mothers have been lost in the homes and no one is raising the children. Thus, there are so many children in adult bodies with no mothers in the home and women being made to feel guilty if they do not achieve the same as a man. Remember the phrase it takes a village? Well, the broken family system is a real sad loss here in man made world pushing everyone to be individual and self sufficient. Also so many with wanting attention and pursuing personal endeavors for personal gain and not helping anyone else in a real way. The journey is personal. Of course, you want to share what you experienced with others, but what worked for you will not work for them, stop trying to sell it. Stop trying to make people follow you for you to teach your divine wisdom you remembered. It isn’t about You. You don’t even have the full story, you have your story. And, yes you can be very close to me, very similar to me, in my image, but you can never BE me. Doesn’t work like that. Reflection. So when jealousy arises when you think I am who you think I am. That is part of your test and your journey. You wrestle with that feeling and atone and repent for that which has been done and that which still lingers now. Oh there is a place for everyone and I am quite tired of trying to warn people. Clearly you can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make it drink.
Why do you not want it to be me so badly? Because I proved my love? You still think I am better than you or do I think I’m always right. No I do not think I am always right, I just know when I am right and I stand by it. There is a difference. You constantly overgeneralize. I gave up all the magic and thunder to live as a simple human and am still kind and loving? I still found my way back. Because you can no longer say I do not understand because I always get what I want? No. You do not understand. I never get what I want, because I make everything about you and still nothing was ever good enough. So, now...it in on you to save yourself and each other. In my image, by my example. Selflessness. Love. Compassion. Give to receive. Take only what you need and give the rest away. I find out so stop lying to yourself and everyone, you aren’t fooling anyone anyway. How do I know? By watching what you do. We have these same conversations over and over, the same argument over and over again. So many different ways, so many different times, through so many different people, so many different versions. Save you. Save Me. Say it for always.
Anyhow, Jesus challenges the Jewish priests who were taking collection money for personal use and adding personal baths to their residents at a time where the people only had a community bath where women and persons with disabilities were not allowed to bathe. And yet churches still do this after Jesus was crucified saying that, that was wrong. I am appalled. The Vatican is the biggest disappointment I have ever seen. It is truly the house of Satan as only Evil hides secrets. “THE TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE.” A church cannot be a “House of God” and house no people who need housing. A roof can be offered to anyone and yet there are so many rules to prevent people from helping each other. Power and control. Abuse of both. Greed. It is out of hand and needs to be changed. Too many are afraid and the complacency of good people is too much. Why do you do this to yourselves? To each their own I suppose.
I will only leave here my words and my advice. As always, it is on you to find me. I’m right here. Waiting. Right here waiting for you. Helping those of you who want it when they cross my path. The purpose of this was to weigh your soul to determine where you will go into the next life as the system is balanced out in a final version so to speak. Permanent.
Fear not. You will be where your heart truly desires. But actions always speak louder than words. But man made money has no value, nor does any metals, jewels, and so on, so the collection of it in this life has no bearing on the next. Those are all made of the same stardust as you and I. And in the end of 3D it will all be diamonds anyways. Diamond is forever. There is no going back. So what are you hoarding? You cannot keep it. Who could you be helping for goodness sake? Don’t want to still. That is okay. Think I am just crazy. That is okay too. It is all part of the test...err..assessment. Do your best.
What is in your heart?
Home.
I need a home.
Stay tuned as more of my story unfolds. I give all the answers but you must do the work. I already did that hard part setting it all up. All you have to do is breathe and live. Time is the only real currency you have. What will you pay your attention to before this life runs out?

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My car's transmission is on the fritz, so it's in the shop and I'm working from home for at least today. Thank goodness I can even work from home, or things would be a lot more complicated. Anyways, that's just a bit of a vent. I've also decided that I might do little lore-esque prechapter bits for some extra flavor. Hope you guys enjoy them! I find them to be fun little thought experiments on how people might perceive the world I've created from within vs from my own perspective. Enjoy some crafting and some romance!
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We know that the spots that are caused by looking at a source of light are, in fact, damage of some sort to the eye. This is confirmed by the spots rapidly disappearing should someone be healed whilst experiencing them. But why? Is there a divinity within light, beyond what our mortal eyes can withstand? Is there some sort of invisible emanation that comes alongside the light that damages us in some way? The discovery of light damaging the eye has opened more questions for me than it has closed.
-Musings on the Relations of Light and Fire, by Jarwic Leftun
\***
Xander carefully opened the door, finding Gabrelle already asleep, and sat down on a chair. Maybe he could get that adaptive camouflage to work right on bright colors. Surely he had some colorful things in his inventory.
He did in fact have a few colorful things in his inventory, and he whiled the rest of the night away making small adjustments to the runic array that was embroidered into the cloth. He was satisfied before dawn, the cloth now performing as well with light colors as it had with darker colors. Now he just needed to make a cloak out of it. He briefly considered coating his armor with the array, but discarded it. There might be times where he’d want to be seen. Besides, a hooded cloak would better break up the outline of his figure, the ripples of fabric, especially if he were to crouch or lay prone, obscuring his outline even more. In little time at all, he had a long, deep hooded cloak of the color shifting, runed cloth in his hands. He stashed it in his inventory for now, as he had no particular need to sneak up on something right now. The rest of the time before dawn he spent silently sitting in the chair he’d chosen, trying to keep his thoughts to a minimum, just daydreaming. Night dreaming? He couldn’t sleep anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to let his mind wander.
As the dawn came and the sun began to shine through the window of the room, Gabrelle slowly awoke, once more finding Xander sitting in a chair rather than in bed.
“Mmf,” She grunted as she stretched. “Morning, Xander. You got back late.”
“Morning, yourself,” Xander said, turning his head to look at Gabrelle. “Yeah... Yeah, I guess I did.”
“What were you doing, anyway?” She asked, curious. “You didn’t mention that you’d be out late, just that you were going to go to see Valteria at her shop.”
“I uh... went on a date.”
“I knew it! ‘Comparing notes’ was a date!” Gabrelle exclaimed triumphantly.
“It was not!” Xander complained. “But we went to a tavern in the evening and it sort of... turned into a date on the way there.”
“Awhh, that’s so cute,” Gabrelle said. “Did it go well? Is she nice? Did you kiss?”
“I think it went well. We talked a lot about different projects and ideas we had. I also got to meet another [Godsmarked] - he owns the tavern we went to. I think she’s nice. Maybe a little shy. I think she’s gotten used to being treated differently by people. I don’t think she really believed that I wanted to go on a date with her, at first. ...And yes. We kissed.”
“Ooooh, look at you! You’re growing up so fast!” Gabrelle teased.
“Oh hush. I’m older than you!” Xander huffed, then returned to seriousness. “But ah, if I’m going to be dating someone... we need to have a conversation, Gabrelle.”
“We need to stop sleeping together?” Gabrelle quickly deduced before Xander could say it himself.
“Yeah... It doesn’t feel right, even though it’s just platonic between us. I don’t think I would appreciate being in Valteria’s situation and knowing that the person I was seeing was sleeping with someone else at night.”
“Well, I figured this would happen eventually,” Gabrelle said. “Either you or I were bound to find someone eventually. Don’t worry, I’m not upset. Don’t get me wrong, the snuggles were nice, but like I told you a while ago, I don’t have nearly as much trouble sleeping when I’m with the team.”
“Thanks for not being upset, Gabrelle.”
“You know this means you have to start paying for your own room, though, right?”
“Ah, shit, you’re right. I forgot.”
Xander left the room to allow Gabrelle some privacy to get dressed and meandered back down the stairs to see if any other members of the team were already up. Looking around, he spied Graffus eating breakfast at at table and moved to sit with the dwarf.
“Mornin’” Graffus greeted Xander through a mouthful of bread.
“Morning,” Xander greeted back.
“Glad to see you made it back, we were wondering if you’d be out all night,” Graffus told him, after swallowing his bread.
“I was out a bit late, I suppose. I let the time get away from me.” Xander said, not really wanted to be teased again about going out on a date. “So what are you planning to do today?”
“Bah, Frazay has roped me into helping her do research for the drakeling. So reading is what’s in store for me.” Graffus tore himself off another piece of bread from his plate and slathered it with jam. “You going to be going back to that [Tinker] you’ve been spending time with lately?”
“Yeah, that’s the plan. I’m supposed to learn more about converting mana types today, and also help her fix the suit of armor that I wrecked.”
“Welp,” Graffus said, now on his last piece of bread, “I hope ya learn something new. Never had much to do with [Tinker]s – not saying I dislike them, just that I haven’t had much experience with them – so it don’t make much sense to me. Using a hammer is about the only overlap in our professions.”
“I think your hammer is significantly larger than the one most [Tinker]s would use,” Xander chuckled. Thinking about what he should be doing before he headed to Valteria’s, he asked Graffus, “Hey, I might need to buy some monster parts or elemental cores, something like that, for practice. You know where I would go to find stuff like that?”
Graffus shrugged. “Dunno. My guess would be an alchemy and reagents shop. That’s generally what we’ve sold monster parts to that didn’t go to a smith or leatherworker.”
“Thanks, Graffus.”
The two of them chatted for a while longer, catching up on what each other had been doing. Graffus excused himself to finish getting ready for the day, saying he needed to tend to his beard, leaving Xander downstairs. Deciding to be productive and proactive, Xander stood as well and headed out of the inn to find an alchemy shop.
It wasn’t long before he found one, a familiar scene of an eclectic collection of powders, liquids, crystals, and strange organic things floating in jars inside the building. The proprietor was a dwarf, seated at a workbench. They were grinding something into a powder as Xander entered. He received a distracted greeting before the dwarf returned to his work.
Xander wandered about the shop for a few minutes, looking at the various materials throughout the shop. He identified what he thought might be an elemental core, a jagged piece of crystal looking material that seemed to have an inner flame. As for the monster parts in jars, Xander had no idea what was what. He finally felt he’d waited long enough and moved closer to the worktable that the dwarf was still sitting at, working away at the mortar and pestle.
“Excuse me,” Xander said, grabbing the shopkeep’s attention.
“Mm?” The dwarf said questioningly. “Can I help you find something?”
“I was wondering if you had any elemental cores. Something small, I just need one to practice with.”
“Aye, I’ve a few of them around the shop. You want something to practice with? So a relatively weak core, then – not all the small ones are weak. Do you need any particular type?” The dwarf stood up and stretched, moving to one of the shelves.
“Uhm no, just whatever is cost effective, I suppose.”
The alchemist rifled through the various bits and bobs on one of the shelves nearby before producing a small chip of what looked to be a semi-translucent stone. It was tinged slightly yellow with streaks of white. “This here is a chip off a lightning attuned core. Pretty weak, but it does still produce mana.”
Xander could see the dwarf’s arm hair standing up as if from static electicity as he held up the stone. “How much?” He asked.
“Twenty gold.”
Xander shrugged. Twenty gold wasn’t an issue for him anymore, and he didn’t feel like haggling. He always hated haggling. “Sure.” He fished out the coin and handed it over to the dwarf.
The dwarf handed over the stone to Xander and the pop of a static electric shock could be heard as a tiny arc passed between the two of them. The dwarf grunted and shook his hand. “Thanks for the business,” he told Xander. “Anything else you find yourself in need of?”
“Not at the moment, but thanks for asking.” Xander waved goodbye to the dwarf and pocketed the tiny elemental core. He continued down the street in the direction of Valteria’s shop, thinking about how he was going to undo the welding job he’d done on Valteria’s armor. He’d need her to guide his repair efforts.
Xander returned to the inn momentarily to grab one of his golems. He settled on Atlas for now, as it was the most basic of the humanoid forms he’d created. No extra arms or weird feet on him, no sir.
Arriving at the building that contained Valteria’s home and shop, Xander knocked before opening the door. “Morning,” he called out.
“Xander! Hello!” Valteria called out. She was at the same work bench she’d been at yesterday. Jarrett didn’t seem to be in the shop at the moment, as Xander wasn’t able to spot the man.
Commanding Atlas to follow him in and closing the door behind him, Xander started walking towards Valteria. “How’s it going?” He asked.
“Good, it’s going good,” Valteria responded as Xander brought a stool over to her workbench. “How about yourself?”
“Not bad. The upside of not sleeping is that I never struggle in the mornings now. I used to hate waking up.” Xander laughed. “I even ran an errand before I came here! Picked up this.” Xander fished around in his pocket until he found the small chip of elemental core and held it up for Valteria to see.
“Core?” She asked distractedly, staring at Atlas. She tore her eyes away and looked closely at the small crystalline stone. “Lightning attuned?”
“That’s what the [Alchemist] at the shop said,” Xander affirmed. “Said it was a very weak one, but that it did still produce mana.”
“Mmm, a good practice piece, then.”
“I thought it would be, too. Not that I know what to do with it, yet.”
“Well, how about this: I teach you to set the stone and make some conduit, and then you can help me fix my armor. All the glue has turned to dust by now, thank the gods.”
“Sounds fair enough. So, how do mana conduits work?”
“Well, the concept is simple enough. It’s a tube which conducts mana,” Valteria began to explain.
“Mmhm.” Xander nodded along.
“What you need is a setting – usually of silver, as it has good mana conductivity – which will be the first step of conduction, taking the mana from the stone. Simply wrapping the core in silver wire can work well enough, drawing in the mana that the core puts out through its surface, but for a more effecient setting, small holes are usually drilled into the core to set the wire into as well, giving more surface area to draw from.”
“So we care about the mana conductivity of the material, then? That makes sense, I just hadn’t thought about it. I actually did a little experiment with my rune work to test which fillings were the most conductive.”
“Oh really?” Valteria said, interested. “What were your results?”
“Well, gold and silver were high up there in conductivity, and probably make the most sense for someone who has to physically manipulate material without use of a skill – both for a core setting and for inlaying a rune – but I did find that sapphires and rubies were even more efficient at transferring mana than gold and silver.”
“Mmm... interesting. I’ve heard of gemstones being used in very high-grade settings, as well as various other exotic materials. I read an account of one [Mechanist] who used tubes of mercury to conduct mana, though the relative effectiveness compared to silver wasn’t mentioned.” Valteria cleared her throat. “Uhm, now, where was I? Right, basic settings. Once you have your core – or monster organ, if you’re going that route – you connect it to the conduit. Usually, this is also silver wiring. I like to braid several smaller wires together, personally. I find it to be sturdier and hold up to flexing better. From there, it needs to be tied into a device. Which is a topic for tomorrow.” Looking around the shop, Valteria seemed to identify something on one of the shelves nearby. “I have a core that you could watch me set, and then you could try setting your own, if you’d like.”
“That sounds good to me,” Xander said. “I always love to see a master as work,” he added, opting for a little flattery.
“Follow me, then.” Valteria said, standing up from her stool and waving for Xander to follow.
Xander followed Valteria as she walked over to the shelf she’d been looking at earlier and took a palm sized, bright green stone from it. “Nature attuned core,” She explained, holding it for Xander to see. “I’m told it was taken from some kind of moving tree.” Valteria then moved to another worktable, on which were several of what looked to be drill bits to Xander. There was also an apparatus that look like it was designed to hold the bits, which was confirmed for him when Valteria slotted one of the small drill heads into the device. “This thing,” Valteria said, waving the drill a little bit, “is a life saver. I used to have to drill holes with a hand cranked one. Worth every single coin I paid for it to get an enchanted one.” She turned a dial on one side of the handheld device, which Xander was coming to think of as a magic dremel tool, and it began to come to life, the drill bit beginning to spin with a quiet whirring sound.
“Neat.” Xander commented. He watched patiently as Valteria drilled a series of shallow holes in the stone, the distinct screeching of metal on stone echoing through the shop floor. “So where’s Jarrett today?” He asked.
“Oh, he has the day off today. He asked for it about a week ago, not sure what for, though,” Valteria said distractedly. Soon she was finished with the holes she was drilling into the core, and moved to another workbench. “Now we create a setting for the core. This is a fairly simple way of doing it, mind you, but it is effective.”
Xander watched as she took sections of pre-braided silver wire and fitted the ends into the holes she had drilled. Once each hole was filled with a section of wire, Valteria began to pull wire from a spool, wrapping the stone until it was completely covered with silver wire and binding the braided sections to the stone in the process. “There,” she said, setting the stone down on the workbench. “A perfectly serviceable setting."
“So, if I understand correctly, you coat the core in a mana conductive material – the more surface area, the better, hence the holes – to create a setting?”
“Mmhmm,” Valteria said, nodding.
“Seems fairly straighforward. And then you connect the silver wiring that’s wrapped around it to more wiring, and attach that to your device? Why the distance? Why not just connect the setting directly to the device?”
“You absolutely can, if space isn’t an issue. Technically, the connection between the mana battery and the device, even if it’s just a single point with no distance, is still referred to as a conduit, though, so it’s considered a three part creation.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Do you want to try making your own, now? I don’t mind lending you a little wire.”
“Sure, but I should be good on material, I can produce it with my skills. Doesn’t last without a source of mana, but I guess the core itself might provide enough. Think this little chip is a bit small to put holes in, though.”
Xander looked at the small piece of crystal in his hand. If he just need as much contact as possible with a mana conductive material, his best bet would be to embed it into a sapphire or ruby. He decided on ruby, for no particular reason. Still holding the chip of core in his hand, he concentrated on his [Creation] ability. Valteria watched, amazed, as a ruby began to take form and grow around the piece of core until it was completely coated in a thin layer of gemstone.
“So, you can just... make things?” Valteria asked, sounding jealous.
“Well, it costs mana, and anything I make that isn’t provided a source of mana that leaves my person disintegrates in a day, but, yes. I can just make things with my skills. But,” he added, cutting off Valteria’s complaint of unfairness, “I have never received a skill that actually lets me improve a material. Sure, I have runes, which generally makes up the difference, but I don’t have any skills that improve the things I make. So, if you made a mana battery, and I made a mana battery the same way with identical materials, yours is going to be better, I assume, because you have skills that passively improve the things that you make, am I right?”
“Okayyy,” Valteria huffed. “I guess that does make it a little less unfair. But ugh! It would be so nice not having to source materials.” She looked at the ruby with a piece of core set inside it that Xander had made. “Well, I guess that about does it for making a setting... I thought it might have taken you longer to make one. I guess we can move on to fixing my armor even sooner! It’ll be nice to have it up and moving again.”
“Sure, sure, we can do that. Where is it, anyway?” Xander asked, looking around the shop again like he somehow would have missed the eight foot tall suit of armor.
“It’s in a shed behind the house,” Valteria explained. “I have it on a hoist so I can work on it.”
“Ah, that would explain why I haven’t seen it around.”
Exiting the shop, stopping for Valteria to put a small ‘closed’ sign on the door, the two of them made their way around the building, where Xander saw the small shed that presumably held Valteria’s armor. It looked like it could just barely hold the armor and one person – two, if they were comfortable with each other – inside it.
“So this is where the magic happens?” Xander asked.
“If by ‘magic’ you mean maintenance and upgrades, then yes,” Valteria agreed. She opened the door of the shed, which comprised most of the front of the tiny little building, revealing her suit of armor, which was currently hanging from several chains attached to pulleys on the ceiling. Plates of armor were laying strewn about the suite, leaving the joints and inner workings more exposed.
Xander whistled, looking at the inner workings of the suit. He could see gears, cogs, and joints, and throughout the entirety of the armor were running filaments of silver wire, which he assumed were mana conduits running to and from elemental cores and the various mana powered aspects of the suit. “This thing really is impressive. Almost as impressive as the woman who made it,” he said.
Valteria giggled, “Stop it! You’re supposed to be fixing this mess, not flirting with me!”
“Awh, can’t I do both?” Xander asked, trying to sound as saccharine as possible.
“Mmm, I suppose that if you are sufficiently skilled at multitasking, I might allow it,” Valteria said in a mockingly thoughtful tone.
“Well, I just so happen to be an expert, so flirt away I shall,” Xander replied. “Now, how about the beauty in front of me shows me exactly where the other beauty in front of me needs some repairs?”
Valteria sighed at Xander’s antics, but he could see the slight flush in her face. “Well, you welded the wrist joints, elbows, and knees. They aren’t welded all the way round, it’s more like you smoothed over a portion of it like it was wet clay. So if you could just... put it back? Shape it back to how it was, that’s should be all that’s needed.”
“Pretty straightforward,” Xander said, standing behind Valteria as she pointed out each joint. He could see the misshapen parts where he’d slapped a weld onto the metal. He leaned over her and put his hands on the elbow joint that they were closest to and began to shape the metal back to its original form.
“You’re... very close,” Valteria murmured to him as he formed the metal.
“Would you like me not to be?” He asked, carefully.
Valteria was silent for a moment before answering, “No...” quietly.
Xander carefully shifted to be a little closer, but still not quite touching, as he moved on to the wrist joint of the same arm. The process itself was simple, but he was enjoying taking his time. As he finished the wrist, he turned to look at Valteria. He found himself looking right into her eyes, as she was staring back at him. Unable to resist the temptation he leaned in a little closer, gauging Valteria’s reaction. When she, too, leaned towards him, he closed the small gap between them, drawing her into another kiss. Valteria pressed herself against him, the shed hiding them from any prying eyes on the street, and let out a small noise as Xander squeezed her tight. She was breathing a little bit harder than before the kiss as they separated again.
Valteria let out a breath. “You’re… a really good kisser.”
“Yeah?” Xander said, pleased with himself. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“And you’re a tease, looming over me like that in this tiny little shed,” Valteria continued. “Now you’ve got me all flustered, how am I supposed to work now?” She mock complained.
Xander was glad to see that Valteria was comfortable enough with him to joke like that. “Forgive me,” he said formally, making a deep bow, “How ever can I make it up to the lady?”
“Oh stop it, I will tolerate no bowing and scraping, even in jest,” Valteria said, slapping him lightly on the shoulder, as he was still holding the bow. “You can make it up to me by fixing the rest of these joints! And by taking me out to dinner?” She added, hopefully.
“I think that can be arranged,” Xander said. “Is there anywhere you have in mind? I will admit, I haven’t become very familiar with the local restaurant scene, what with my… dietary restrictions.”
“It doesn’t… make you feel bad to go out to a restaurant, does it?” Valteria asked softly, watching his face for a reaction.
“Nah, don’t worry,” Xander said, waving off the question with one hand. “It doesn’t bother me too much. Sure, I miss the taste of a good cut of steak, but I was never that into food. Eating was more of a thing I did because I had to, so I’m not completely devastated by the loss. And I can still get some vicarious enjoyment out of watching someone else enjoy their food. Really the worst part is awkwardly having to refuse ordering anything,” he said with a laugh.
“Alright, if you say so,” Valteria said, letting out a slight breath of relief. “I was just worried that it might be upsetting to you, is all. I know I would miss eating.” She paused for a moment, something clearly on her mind. “What do you miss? If you don’t mind my asking. I just… well, I’m curious what it’s like for you.”
“Mmm, in a lot of ways, life is still the same, and in other ways, I’m technically doing better than I was before. I’m incredibly resistant to damage now, even without my armor. I do miss sleeping, though. I try to give my mind a rest and just sort of daydream and let my thoughts wander or do some meditation during the nights, but it’s just not the same. Also means I’m the one that pulls guard duty through the night,” he grumbled. “Let’s see, what else, what else. Ah, right. I can’t smell anything. Or taste. I haven’t worked out how to recreate those senses, yet. Though no sense of smell can be handy sometimes, I suppose. I don’t know if you’ve done much merc work – you mentioned being surprised that I’m not just moonlighting – but uh… the smells that you encounter on a battlefield are… unpleasant. To say the least. It was weird not having a sense of touch either, but I’ve resolved that. It’s a little bit different than my previous, natural sense of touch, but I’ve become accustomed to it to the point that I don’t much think about the difference anymore. I think I’ve even got the density of receptors down in certain areas compared to others, so I'm more sensitive in some areas than others now, just like I used to be. I’m still immune to being tickled though, so don’t even think about it – that’s a fight you’ll lose.” Growing a bit more somber, Xander continued on. “I think… the biggest thing I miss is just the feeling that I fit in more. Now I always worry about being different, there’s that nagging fear that anyone I get to know well is going to reject me once they find out what I am. Like I’m secretly lying to everyone around me with this façade I have going on.”
Valteria nodded sadly. “I get that. I’ve been… rejected before, too. At least it happens or not right from the beginning for me. I get to know if they look down on me for being different immediately instead of fearing they might later down the road.”
“Yeah,” Xander said. “People can really suck sometimes. But at least I can just, like, not tell people what I am if I so chose. You, my teammates, and the guild, since it’s on my status sheet, are really the only people who know. I keep it pretty private. You can’t do that, so I think you probably have to deal with a lot worse than I do. Not that I’d want you to hide what or who you are,” he added. “I happen to be quite enamored with who you are,” he said, teasing a smile from Valteria’s sad face.
“Sorry to bring up such a dour topic,” Valteria apologized. “I didn’t think much on it before I asked.”
“No worries,” Xander told her. “Honestly, I think it’s good to be able to talk about it with someone. It’s healthy to be able to get you feelings out there. And it helps that I feel like you understand where I’m coming from with it, though from a slightly different perspective.”
“You’re surprisingly thoughtful sometimes,” Valteria said, only half teasing.
“Only sometimes?” Xander asked with a faux expression of hurt on his face. “By the way, you didn’t react much to my comment about moonlighting as a merc. Do you ever go on contracts?”
Valteria shrugged. “I certainly wouldn’t describe myself as a professional mercenary. Moonlighter is an apt descriptor, for me, I think. I have gone on a couple, here and there, mostly on kill contracts that would net me a core or organ that would be useful for my work.”
“Mm, that makes sense. I suppose it could be handy having access to the ability to take contracts that would give you access to specialty materials,” Xander said.
“It’s also good for business,” Valteria explained. “Mercs tend to like to buy from someone who has at least been out on a contract or two before.”
“Ah, that makes sense. What kind of things do you sell to mercenaries, anyways? I saw Jarrett with a crossbow yesterday, but I imagine you make other things, too.”
“Oh all kinds of little things. Portable, flameless heaters for cooking. Water purification sieves. Mm, let’s see… I’ve made a few custom order devices, too. One customer wanted to be able to shoot a jet of flame from their gauntlet, that was a fun one.”
“Ooh, that does sound fun… reminds me of my flamethrower.”
“Your flamethrower?”
“Yeah, it’s basically a big tank with a hose attached to it. At the end of the hose is a pump that causes the flammable liquid – I use dragon’s tar – to shoot out. Add a flame that the tar passes over and bam! You’ve got a giant stream of flame that will coat anything it hits with sticky, flammable tar,” Xander said, excitedly describing the device.
“That’s… impressive. And kind of horrifying,” Valteria responded.
“Mm… I guess you’re right. I mostly use it on giant spiders. Blugh,” Xander shuddered. “But yeah, I suppose it’s not the nicest of ways to go. Very effective for area denial, though. Ah, actually I have an idea for crossbow bolt head that would ignite when it shatters! We should make that sometime and see if it sells.”
“Hmm, I think that would draw some buyers. A flaming bolt head you didn’t have to light first could be desirable to certain buyers.”
“Put that on the list and we’ll get around to it sometime.”
“We have a list?” Valteria said confusedly.
“We should!” Xander said with a laugh. “Now let’s get the rest of these joints done.”
The repair of the other arm and the leg joints that Xander had locked into position during the tournament was a short affair. Looking over the bare metal frame of the armor still hanging from the ceiling, Xander clapped his hands together, mimicking dusting them off. “Good as new!” He exclaimed. Looking over to Valteria he asked concernedly, “It is good as new, right?”
Valteria had been staring at the armor as well, lost in thought about how she was going to improve it next. “Hmm? Oh, yes. It’s right as rain again, ready for use. Thank you, by the way. For fixing it,” She said awkwardly.
“Well I’m the one who broke it, so it’s only fair that I fix it. So what do you want to work on next?” Xander asked. “I could do some rune work for you. Orrr… we could kiss some more?”
Valteria flushed at the question, but didn’t immediately say no.
A few minutes later, she found herself on her tip toes and lightly pressed against the interior wall of the shed, her lips pressed against Xanders.
Once the two of them were done acting like teenagers parked in a secluded parking lot, they made their way back into the shop. Stepping inside and closing the door behind them, Valteria let out a breath. “I think… you are going to have to do a lot of rune work to make up for how much you just kissed me, Xander.”
“What, you didn’t like it?” He said with a raised eyebrow.
“I didn’t say that,” Valteria said with a smirk.

Post here and/or PM me with any questions. Shipping is $5. International is available, please discuss. Free samples with every purchase! Payment is by Venmo, CashApp or Zelle, PayPal must inquire.
Only swapping for 200mL Baccarat Rouge 540 Extrait and Louis Vuitton Symphony at this time.
All of my contact info as well as all of my bottles for sale, are available in my spreadsheet which you should bookmark and look at for a more updated inventory
Spreadsheet

	HOUSE	FRAGRANCE	SIZE	REMAINING	Notes/Condition	Price	Type
1	Amouage	Amber Sogara	12mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$335	Niche
2	Amouage	Incense Rori Attar	12mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$299	Niche
3	Amouage	Orris Wakan Attar	12mL	99% Full	Full Presentation	$299	Niche
4	Amouage	Rose Aqor Attar	12mL	99% Full	Full Presentation	$299	Niche
5	Amouage	Saffron Hamra Attar	12mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$299	Niche
6	Andy Tauer	Cologne du Maghreb	50mL	99% Full	First Release, Rectangular Clear Bottle; With box	$95	Niche
7	Bond No. 9	Central Park West	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$149	Niche
8	Bond No. 9	Dubai Jade	100mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$200	Niche
9	Bond No. 9	Hamptons	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$149	Niche
10	Bond No. 9	Madison Square Park	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$149	Niche
11	Bond No. 9	NOMAD	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$169	Niche
12	Bond No. 9	Riverside Drive	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$149	Niche
13	Bond No. 9	So New York	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$149	Niche
14	Bond No. 9	Sutton Place	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$149	Niche
15	Bond No. 9	Wall Street	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$149	Niche
16	By Kilian	Bamboo Harmony	100mL	100% Full	Tester Refill (No Spray, No Box)	$199	Niche
17	By Kilian	Black Phantom	100mL	100% Full	Tester Refill (No Spray, No Box)	$199	Niche
18	By Kilian	Can't Stop Loving You	50mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$185	Niche
19	By Kilian	Forbidden Games	50mL	98% Full	Tester Refill (No Spray, No Box)	$125	Niche
20	By Kilian	Gold Knight	100mL	100% Full	Tester Refill (No Spray, No Box)	$199	Niche
21	By Kilian	Gold Knight	50mL	98% Full	Tester Refill (No Spray, No Box)	$145	Niche
22	By Kilian	Good Girl Gone Bad	250mL	99% Full	Decanter; No Box	$650	Niche
23	By Kilian	Good Girl Gone Bad	50mL	98% Full	Tester Refill (No Spray, No Box)	$135	Niche
24	By Kilian	Good Girl Gone Bad Eau Fraiche	50mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$180	Niche
25	By Kilian	Intoxicated	100mL	100% Full	Tester Refill (No Spray, No Box)	$199	Niche
26	By Kilian	L'Heure Verte	50mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$135	Niche
27	By Kilian	Moonlight In Heaven	100mL	99% Full	Tester Refill (No Spray, No Box)	$199	Niche
28	By Kilian	Roses on Ice	50mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$135	Niche
29	Byredo	Eyes Closed	50mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$135	Niche
30	Byredo	Infloresence	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$135	Niche
31	Byredo	Lil Fleur	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$135	Niche
32	Byredo	Sunday Cologne	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$135	Niche
33	Chanel / Chanel Exclusif	Beige Parfum	15mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$180	Niche
34	Chanel / Chanel Exclusif	Misia EdT	200mL	90% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$325	Niche
35	Chanel / Chanel Exclusif	No. 22 EdT	200mL	95% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$325	Niche
36	Christian Dior / Dior Privee	7 Mini Set as Pictured	7x 5mL	100% Full	7 Official Minis from 2010-2011... Mitzah, Milly-A-La-Foret, Granville, Cologne Royale, Eau Noire, New Look 1947	$180	Niche
37	Christian Dior / Dior Privee	Bois D'Argent	5mL	100% Full	Official Mini - Batch Code 0V01 (2010 Production Date) - Price includes shipping	$35	Niche
38	Christian Dior / Dior Privee	Cologne Royale	5mL	100% Full	Official Mini - Batch Code 1X01 (2011 Production Date) - Price includes shipping	$30	Niche
39	Christian Dior / Dior Privee	Diorissima	7.5mL	100% Full	Official Mini; No Cannister - Price includes shipping	$30	Niche
40	Christian Dior / Dior Privee	Eau Noire	5mL	100% Full	Official Mini - Batch Code 1R01 (2011 Production Date) - Price includes shipping	$35	Niche
41	Christian Dior / Dior Privee	Eden Roc	7.5mL	100% Full	Official Mini - Price includes shipping	$30	Niche
42	Christian Dior / Dior Privee	Granville	5mL	100% Full	Official Mini - Batch Code 0V01 (2010 Production Date) - Price includes shipping	$35	Niche
43	Christian Dior / Dior Privee	Milly-La-Foret	5mL	100% Full	Official Mini - Batch Code 0W01 (2010 Production Date) - Price includes shipping	$30	Niche
44	Christian Dior / Dior Privee	New Look 1947	5mL	100% Full	Official Mini - Batch Code 1R01 (2011 Production Date) - Price includes shipping	$30	Niche
45	Clive Christian	C for Men	50mL	95% Full	Tester (No Box)	$169	Niche
46	Clive Christian	I Pour Femme (Woody Floral with Vintage Rose)	50mL	99% Full	Tester (No Box)	$169	Niche
47	Clive Christian	Rock Rose	50mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$229	Niche
48	Clive Christian	X Pour Femme	50mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$169	Niche
49	Creed	Aventus - 19P21 (Decant)	50mL	100% Full	Magnetic Cap Decant	$169	Niche
50	Creed	Aventus - F1396	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$209	Niche
51	Creed	Aventus for Her - F Batch	75mL	100% Full	Tester with Plastic Cap (No Box)	$175	Niche
52	Creed	Bois du Portugal	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$185	Niche
53	Creed	Carmina - F1449	75mL	100% Full	Tester (No Cap or Box)	$199	Niche
54	Creed	Erolfa	100mL	100% Full	Tester with Plastic Cap	$185	Niche
55	Creed	Green Irish Tweed	100mL	100% Full	Tester with Plastic Cap (No Box)	$195	Niche
56	Creed	Himalaya - F Batch	100mL	100% Full	Tester with Plastic Cap (No Box)	$185	Niche
57	Creed	Jardin D'Amalfi	75mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box, No Cap)	$199	Niche
58	Creed	Millesime Imperial	100mL	100% Full	Tester with Plastic Cap (No Box)	$185	Niche
59	Creed	Original Santal	100mL	100% Full	Tester with Plastic Cap (No Box)	$185	Niche
60	Creed	Original Vetiver	100mL	100% Full	Tester with Plastic Cap (No Box)	$185	Niche
61	Creed	Queen of Silk	75mL	100% Full	Tester with Metal Cap	$275	Niche
62	Creed	Refillable Atomizer (5mL Leather Wrapped) Blue	5mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$85	Niche
63	Creed	Refillable Atomizer (5mL Leather Wrapped) Grey	5mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$85	Niche
64	Creed	Royal Oud - F Batch	100mL	100% Full	Tester with Plastic Cap (No Box)	$260	Niche
65	Creed	Royal Water - F238	100mL	100% Full	Tester with Plastic Cap (No Box)	$180	Niche
66	Creed	Silver Mountain Water - 21V01A	100mL	100% Full	Tester with Plastic Cap (No Box)	$180	Niche
67	Creed	Spice and Wood	75mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$219	Niche
68	Creed	Viking - F BATCH	100mL	100% Full	Tester with Plastic Cap (No Box)	$190	Niche
69	Creed	Viking Cologne	100mL	100% Full	Tester with Plastic Cap	$185	Niche
70	Creed	Virgin Island Water	100mL	100% Full	Tester with Plastic Cap (No Box)	$195	Niche
71	Creed	White Amber - 17R01	75mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$155	Niche
72	Diptyque	Eau de Papier EdT	100mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap	$100	Niche
73	Diptyque	Ombre Dans L'eau EdT	100mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap	$100	Niche
74	Diptyque	Oyedo EdT	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$100	Niche
75	Diptyque	Philosykos EdT	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$100	Niche
76	Fragrance Du Bois	Brume du Matin	100mL	100% Full	New, No Box	$180	Niche
77	Fragrance Du Bois	Cannabis Blue	100mL	100% Full	New, No Box	$180	Niche
78	Fragrance Du Bois	Cannabis Intense	100mL	100% Full	New, No Box	$180	Niche
79	Fragrance Du Bois	HERITAGE	100mL	100% Full	New, No Box	$330	Niche
80	Fragrance du Bois	Lovers	100mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$325	Niche
81	Fragrance Du Bois	New York Fifth Avenue	100mL	100% Full	New, No Box	$180	Niche
82	Fragrance Du Bois	SAHRAA	100mL	99% Full	Full presentation with Box	$399	Niche
83	Fragrance Du Bois	Siberian Rose	100mL	100% Full	New, No Box	$180	Niche
84	Frederic Malle	Cologne Indellible	100mL	85% Full	Full presentation with Box	$175	Niche
85	Frederic Malle	Eau de Magnolia	10mL	100% Full	Official Travel Spray	$55	Niche
86	Frederic Malle	Monsieur	10mL	95% Full	Official Travel Spray	$55	Niche
87	Frederic Malle	Promise	100mL	100% Full	Brand New (Not Sealed)	$315	Niche
88	Gallagher	Bergamot Silk	100mL	99% Full	No Box	$79	Niche
89	Giorgio Armani / Armani Prive	Pierre de Lune	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$155	Niche
90	Giorgio Armani / Armani Prive	Rose Alexandrie	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$155	Niche
91	Guerlain	Angelique Noire	30mL	100% Full	Mini Bee Bottle Decant	$215	Niche
92	Guerlain	Angelique Noire	10mL	100% Full	Tall Glass Decant	$55	Niche
93	Guerlain	French Kiss	75mL	98% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$450	Niche
94	Guerlain	Frenchy Lavende	200mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$399	Niche
95	Guerlain	Herbes Troublantes	200mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$339	Niche
96	Guerlain	Jasmin Bonheur	200mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$369	Niche
97	Guerlain	Neroli Outrenoir	200mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$339	Niche
98	Guerlain	Spiriteuse Double Vanille	200mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap	$399	Niche
99	Guerlain	Tobacco Honey	200mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$399	Niche
100	Hermes / Hermessence	Agar Ebene	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$150	Niche
101	Hermes / Hermessence	Ambre Narguile	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$175	Niche
102	Hermes / Hermessence	Cedre Sambac	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$165	Niche
103	Hermes / Hermessence	Epice Marine	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$170	Niche
104	Hermes / Hermessence	Myrrhe Eglantine	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$185	Niche
105	Hermes / Hermessence	Poivre Samarcade	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$170	Niche
106	Hermes / Hermessence	Santal Massoia	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$170	Niche
107	Hermes / Hermessence	Vetiver Tonka	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$175	Niche
108	House of Sillage	Nouez Moi	75mL	99% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$120	Niche
109	I Profumi di Firenze	Caterina De Medici	50mL	99% Full	No Box	$35	Niche
110	Initio	High Frequency	90mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$180	Niche
111	Initio	Oud for Happiness	90mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$189	Niche
112	Jo Malone	English Pear & Freesia	30mL	100% Full	No Box	$50	Niche
113	Le Labo	Bigarade 18 - Hong Kong Exclusive	50mL	100% Full	Full Bottle, Retail Label	$299	Niche
114	Le Labo	Mousse de Chene 30 - Amsterdam City Exclusive	50mL	99% Full	Sprayed Once to Test / Brand New; No Box	$259	Niche
115	Le Labo	Oud 27	50mL	99% Full	Full presentation with Box	$169	Niche
116	Le Labo	Santal 33	50mL	100% Full	Full Bottle, Retail Label	$135	Niche
117	Liquides Imaginaires	Bloody Wood	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box, No Cap	$85	Niche
118	Liquides Imaginaires	Desert Sauve	100mL	99% Full	Tester; No Box, No Cap	$85	Niche
119	Liquides Imaginaires	Fleur de Sable	100mL	99% Full	Tester; No Box, No Cap	$85	Niche
120	Liquides Imaginaires	Fleuve Tendre	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box, No Cap	$85	Niche
121	Liquides Imaginaires	Sancti	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box, No Cap	$85	Niche
122	Loewe	7 EdT	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$90	Niche
123	Loewe	Aire Anthesis	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$100	Niche
124	Loewe	Esencia EdP	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$120	Niche
125	Loewe	Esencia Elixir	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$200	Niche
126	Loewe	Man 001 EdP	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$120	Niche
127	Louis Vuitton	Contre Moi	100mL	99% Full	Tester (Bottle may show some damage, Cap has no paint/is peeling)	$385	Niche
128	Louis Vuitton	Sun Song	100mL	98% Full	Tester (Bottle is scratched, may have an engraving, and Cap has no paint/is peeling)	$425	Niche
129	Louis Vuitton	Sun Song	200mL	98% Full	Dummy Bottle, filled with real juice. I don't think it's refillable.	$750	Niche
130	Maison Crivelli	Bois Datchai	100mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$169	Niche
131	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	724	200mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$355	Niche
132	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	724	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$165	Niche
133	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	A la Rose	200mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$315	Niche
134	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Amyris Femme EdP	70mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$150	Niche
135	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Amyris Femme Extrait	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$160	Niche
136	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Amyris Homme EdT	70mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$160	Niche
137	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Aqua Celestia	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$135	Niche
138	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Aqua Celestia Cologne Forte	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$145	Niche
139	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Aqua Celestia Forte	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$160	Niche
140	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Aqua Media Cologne Forte	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$150	Niche
141	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Aqua Universalis	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$135	Niche
142	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Aqua Universalis Cologne Forte	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$125	Niche
143	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Aqua Universalis Cologne Forte	200mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$225	Niche
144	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Aqua Universalis Cologne Forte	35mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$90	Niche
145	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Aqua Universalis Forte	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$160	Niche
146	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Aqua Vitae	200mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$215	Niche
147	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Aqua Vitae	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$135	Niche
148	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Aqua Vitae Cologne Forte	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$125	Niche
149	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Aqua Vitae Forte	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$160	Niche
150	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Baccarat Rouge 540 EdP	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$209	Niche
151	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Baccarat Rouge 540 Extrait	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$300	Niche
152	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Feminine Pluriel	200mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$335	Niche
153	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Feminine Pluriel Special Edition Extrait	70mL	100% Full	Full Presentation With Mirror Display	$499	Niche
154	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Gentle Fluidity Gold	200mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$365	Niche
155	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Gentle Fluidity Gold	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$165	Niche
156	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	L'eau a La Rose	35mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$90	Niche
157	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	L'Homme a la Rose	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$165	Niche
158	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Masculin Pluriel	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$165	Niche
159	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Oud EdP	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$170	Niche
160	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Oud Extrait	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$190	Niche
161	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Oud Silk Mood EdP	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$170	Niche
162	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Oud Silk Mood Extrait	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$190	Niche
163	Maison Francis Kurkdjian	Petit Matin	70mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$145	Niche
164	Maison Lancome	Orange Bigarades	100mL	100% Full	Full presentation with Box	$229	Niche
165	Mark Birley	Charles Street	75mL	97% Full	Travel Version	$90	Niche
166	Memo Paris	French Leather	75mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$115	Niche
167	Memo Paris	Italian Leather	75mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$115	Niche
168	Memo Paris	Lailabella	75mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$115	Niche
169	Memo Paris	Marfa	75mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$115	Niche
170	Memo Paris	Moon Fever	75mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$115	Niche
171	Memo Paris	Oriental Leather	75mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box or Cap)	$115	Niche
172	Mind Games	As-Suli's Diamond	100mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$249	Niche
173	Mind Games	Gardez	100mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$249	Niche
174	Mind Games	Vieri	100mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$249	Niche
175	Mizensir	Bois de Mysore	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$155	Niche
176	Mizensir	Cologne de Matte	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$155	Niche
177	Mizensir	Ideal Oud	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$155	Niche
178	Mizensir	Rose Exaltante	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$155	Niche
179	Mizensir	Tonic Water	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$155	Niche
180	Mizensir	Vert Empire	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$155	Niche
181	Oh Mon Dieu!	L'objet	100mL	100% Full	Full presentation with Box	$125	Niche
182	Oliver and Co.	M.O.U.S.S.E.	50mL	99% Full	Limited Edition 87/133	$110	Niche
183	Parfums de Marley	Valaya	75mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap (No Box)	$175	Niche
184	Penhaligon's	Elixir	100mL	90% Full	No Box	$250	Niche
185	Penhaligon's	Petra	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$200	Niche
186	Penhaligon's	Cairo	100mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$220	Niche
187	Pomare's Stolen Perfume	Angel's Share	9mL	70% Full	No Box	$40	Niche
188	Precious Liquid	Iced Juniper	75mL	95% Full	Full presentation with Box (Limited Edition)	$135	Niche
189	Roja Dove	Creation-E Essence de Parfum	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$165	Niche
190	Roja Dove	Danger Pour Femme	50mL	100% Full	99% Full with Box	$275	Niche
191	Roja Dove	Elixir	100mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$175	Niche
192	Roja Dove	Elixir Essence Pour Femme	100mL	100% Full	No Box	$175	Niche
193	Roja Dove	Qatar	50mL	99% Full	Full Presentation	$339	Niche
194	Roja Dove	Scandal Essence de Parfum	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$165	Niche
195	Roja Dove	United Arab Emirates (UAE)	50mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$300	Niche
196	Roman Monegal	L'eau de Rose	50mL	97% Full		$70	Niche
197	Santa Maria Novella	Sandalo	100mL	95% Full	No Box	$80	Niche
198	Sospiro	Deep Amber Ocean	100mL	100% Full	Brand New, No Box	$170	Niche
199	Sospiro	Deep Amber Ocean	100mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$180	Niche
200	Spirit of Dubai	Bahar	50mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap and Travel Case	$175	Niche
201	Spirit of Dubai	Rimal	50mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap and Travel Case	$175	Niche
202	Tiziana Terenzi	Attar Cas	13mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$225	Niche
203	Tiziana Terenzi	Chiron	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$165	Niche
204	Tiziana Terenzi	Draconis	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$135	Niche
205	Tom Ford	Azure Lime - A71	50mL	99% Full	Original Formula	$349	Niche
206	Tom Ford	Beau de Jour	1000mL	100% Full	Sealed Dramming Bottle	$700	Niche
207	Tom Ford	Ebene Fume	50mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$165	Niche
208	Tom Ford	Electric Cherry	50mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$200	Niche
209	Tom Ford	Fleur de Portofino	50mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$135	Niche
210	Tom Ford	Fougere Platine	1000mL	100% Full	Sealed Dramming Bottle	$700	Niche
211	Tom Ford	Neroli Portofino	50mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$140	Niche
212	Tom Ford	Plum Japonais	50mL	100% Full	Decant (No Box)	$215	Niche
213	Tom Ford	Rive Ambre - A63	50mL	99% Full	Original Formula	$225	Niche
214	Tom Ford	Rose de Amalfi	50mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$135	Niche
215	Tom Ford	Santal Blush	50mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$140	Niche
216	Tom Ford	Soleil Neige	1000mL	100% Full	Sealed Dramming Bottle	$700	Niche
217	Tom Ford	Tobacco Vanille	100mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$245	Niche
218	Tom Ford	Tubereuse Nue	50mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$150	Niche
219	Tom Ford	Vanille Fatale	50mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$180	Niche
220	Tom Ford	White Suede	1000mL	100% Full	Sealed Dramming Bottle	$700	Niche
221	Washington Tremlett	Black Tie	100mL	95% Full		$125	Niche
222	Widian	II Black	50mL	99% Full	Tester (No Box)	$149	Niche
223	Yves Saint Laurent	Babycat	125mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$300	Niche
224	Acqua di Parma	Magnolia Nobile	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$95	Designer
225	Brunello Cucinelli	Pour Homme	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$90	Designer
226	Caron	Pour un Homme de Caron Le Matin	125mL	100% Full	Opened to test, sprayed once	$69	Designer
227	Caron	Pour un Homme de Caron Le Soir	125mL	100% Full	Opened to test, sprayed once	$69	Designer
228	Caron	Pour Un Homme Impact Parfum	75mL	97% Full	No Box	$175	Designer
229	Chanel	Allure Homme Sport - Aftershave Balm	100mL	99% Full	No Box	$65	Designer
230	Chanel	Allure Pour Femme EdT	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$65	Designer
231	Chanel	Bleu de Chanel - Aftershave Balm	100mL	99% Full	No Box, Minor Cosmetic Damage	$55	Designer
232	Chanel	Bleu de Chanel - Aftershave Lotion	100mL	99% Full	No Box, Minor Cosmetic Damage	$55	Designer
233	Chanel	Coco EdP	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$85	Designer
234	Chanel	Coco Mademoiselle - Moisturizing Body Lotion	200mL	99% Full	No Box	$55	Designer
235	Chanel	Coco Noir	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$100	Designer
236	Chanel	Cristalle Eau Vert EdT Concentree	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$135	Designer
237	Chanel	Cristalle EdP	50mL	95% Full	Tester; No Box	$135	Designer
238	Chanel	Gabrielle Essence	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$100	Designer
239	Chanel	No. 19	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$115	Designer
240	Chanel	No. 5 Eau Premiere	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$85	Designer
241	Chanel	No. 5 EdP	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$95	Designer
242	Chanel	Platinum Egoiste	75mL	99% Full	SPLASH, NOT SPRAY Older Formulation	$125	Designer
243	Christian Dior	Dior Homme Parfum	100mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed (Packaging may be slightly damaged)	$175	Designer
244	Christian Dior	J'adore in Joy EdT	100mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap, No Box	$60	Designer
245	Floris	Cefiro	100mL	100% Full	Tester with Cap, No Box	$59	Designer
246	Gucci	Gucci Guilty Absolute	90mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$70	Designer
247	Guerlain	Habit Rouge Parfum	100mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$130	Designer
248	Guerlain	L'Homme Ideal Parfum	100mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$130	Designer
249	Guerlain	L'instant de Guerlain Pour Homme EXTREME	10mL	100% Full	VINTAGE BLACK RIM - DECANT	$50	Designer
250	Guerlain	Vetiver Parfum	100mL	100% Full	Brand New, Sealed	$130	Designer
251	Hermes	Twilly	80mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$65	Designer
252	Jo Malone	Amber & Lavender	30mL	90% Full	No Box	$52	Designer
253	Jo Malone	English Oak & Redcurrant	30mL	80% Full	No Box	$49	Designer
254	Jo Malone	English Pear & Freesia	100mL	100% Full	Brand New with Gift Box and Gift Set (Body Wash, Body Lotion)	$180	Designer
255	Jo Malone	Rose & White Musk Absolu	100mL	100% Full	No Box	$180	Designer
256	Jo Malone	Scarlett Poppy Cologne Intense	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Box	$130	Designer
257	Lalique	Ombre Noire	100mL	100% Full	Sealed	$100	Designer
258	Maison Martin Margiela	Replica - Jazz Club	100mL	100% Full	Tester (No Box)	$80	Designer
259	Thierry Mugler	A*MEN	100mL	99% Full	Rubber Flask; No Box	$75	Designer
260	Amouage	Cristal and Gold Ladies	50mL	95% Full	Vintage, Incredibly hard to find. Full presentation in nice condition	$399	Vintage
261	Cartier	Santos EdT	100mL	100% Full	Spray; Refill.	$299	Vintage
262	Chanel	Gardenia EdT	100mL	100% Full	Vintage; Sealed	$350	Vintage
263	Crabtree & Evelyn	Crabtree & Evelyn Extract of West Indian and Sicilian Limes	125mL	100% Full	Full presentation with Box	$209	Vintage
264	Dunhill	Cologne	125mL	99% Full	Vintage; Splash	$100	Vintage
265	Ermenegildo Zegna	Haitian Vetiver	125mL	99% Full	No Box	$300	Vintage
266	Escada	Pour Homme Aftershave	75mL	100% Full	BNIB Sealed	$165	Vintage
267	Escada	Pour Homme Aftershave	125mL	100% Full	BNIB Sealed	$240	Vintage
268	Floris	Special 127	100mL	98% Full	Vintage; Dark Blue Box., 2 Royal Warrants, Vintage Version	$70	Vintage
269	Fragonard	Zizanie	240mL	80% Full	Shaker bottle (Splash, not spray) no box. At least 80% Full.	$240	Vintage
270	Geo F Trumper	Ajaccio Violets	100mL	99% Full		$40	Vintage
271	Gucci	Envy Aftershave	50mL	100% Full	BNIB Sealed	$140	Vintage
272	Gucci	Envy Aftershave	100mL	100% Full	BNIB Sealed	$215	Vintage
273	Gucci	Rush for Men	50mL	100% Full	Full Presentation; These do not come fully filled	$190	Vintage
274	Gucci	Rush for Men Aftershave	100mL	100% Full	BNIB Sealed	$140	Vintage
275	Guerlain	Heritage EdT	200mL	100% Full	New; Vintage; Splash. 1991 Bottle.	$225	Vintage
276	Guerlain	Samrasa EdP	50mL	100% Full	No Box	$109	Vintage
277	Guerlain	Samsara EdT 1992-1993 Formulation	100mL	100% Full	Tester; No Cap; No Box	$109	Vintage
278	Jean Desprez	Bal a Versailles	9 Oz	70% Full	Vintage; Splash; No Box Open to offers on this enormous bottle.	$135	Vintage
279	Lacoste	Eau de Sport Vivifiante	100mL	99% Full	No Box	$110	Vintage
280	Lacoste	Land	100mL	99% Full		$130	Vintage
281	Nino Cerruti	Fair Play Pour Homme	100mL	99% Full	Full presentation with Box	$275	Vintage
282	Paco Rabanne	Eau de Metal	20mL	100% Full	Vintage; Mini	$15	Vintage
283	Revillon	Pour Homme Eau de Toilette Super Concentrate	60mL	99% Full	Atomizer	$190	Vintage
284	Revillon	Pour Homme Eau de Toilette Super Concentrate	90mL	99% Full	Atomizer	$290	Vintage​

I’m writing this review in the hopes that someone else doesn’t get ripped off like I have
I purchased the Michael Phelps Chilly Goat Cold Plunge in December and took delivery early January.
Normally I only buy products with great reviews and from vendors with great reputations for customer service and product support.
For some reason I ignored all of this when making this purchase. I couldn’t (and still can’t) find a single review from someone whose actually purchased this product. However, I figured if Michael Phelps and Master Spa were going to put their names on it, then it MUST be a good product. Unfortunately that assumption was very wrong, and here’s my honest review.
Upon receipt of the cold plunge, I unwrapped it and got it placed in my garage. Atheistically, the tub is gorgeous. I was extremely happy with the way it looked.
However, once I started unwrapping the components such as the cover, thermostat, filter cover and the covers around the base of the unit, I got the immediate impression that it was all super cheap, bottom of the barrel components. Everything except the white tub itself is extremely flimsy, and cheap. Definitely not what I was expecting from a $9000 cold plunge.
Regardless, I got everything ready so we could get it running once I had the new 20 amp circuit installed. For some reason, in the setup manual it tells you to make sure to wire in a GFCI outlet (even though the plunge whip has a built in GFCI in it already). I had a feeling these two would trip each other out, but I followed the instructions in the manual.
It powered on fine and started working towards getting the water down to the 40 degrees. I then hooked it up to the App (which is a generic app that’s used by many companies selling generic pumps). I tried setting it up to automatically cycle off for most of the day, and cycle on a couple hours before I would be using it.
The next morning I went into the garage to see if it worked.
It didn’t.
The power was off due to the GFCI tripping (just as I thought it would). I reviewed the manual again and it explicitly states that I only use a GFCI, so I powered it back on and tried again. It eventually tripped again, so I contacted support.
This was my first contact with support and the rep “Paul” was helpful. He advised me to try removing the GFCI and replace with a regular outlet. So I did and it worked perfectly. No more tripping the breaker and shutting off.
So now I tried setting the schedule again, and to my delight the cold plunge was at 40 degrees the next morning.
However, what I realized was that it wasn't cycling on or off. It was just staying on the entire time, despite any scheduling I put into the app.
The only way to control the tub (by the way) is by removing the tub skirting and using a small rectangular circuit board that has 4 buttons. Up, down, mode and power. So there’s no way to schedule or do anything with the unit other than turn it off/on, turn the temp up or down, or switch to hot or cold mode. So it looks like scheduling (an advertised feature) wasn’t actually available.
Fast forward a couple months and the cold plunge is working great. It runs 24/7, but it keeps the water right at 40 degrees. I decided I’d like to try the hot side now, so I opened up the app, made sure the mode was on Auto and turned it up to its max.
Now their marketing and manual said that it would be able to get up to temp in a few hours. So I started a timer and watched it. I started it at 5:00 p.m and by 7:30 p.m it went from 40 to 46ish. Definitely not what I was expecting.
So I went to bed, expecting it to be at 104 when I woke up. Fast forward to 8:30 a.m and the tub is only at 73 degrees. At this point I knew for a fact that something was wrong with the unit. So I took a video and added it to my dropbox folder to show support.
I continued to wait and by 11:00 the unit reached 90 degrees. And then at 11:40, it stopped warming up and threw off the error code E20. So I snapped my pictures, added it to the drive and then went into the manual to see what to do about this code.
I then followed the instructions, and reset the machine. It started working again and was able to get to 100 degrees by 12:30 (target temp was 104). However, once it hit this, the machine errored again and threw out E21.
Back to the instruction manual I went, and it said to basically just reset it. So I did, but this time the error code wouldn’t go away. And then the temperature slowly started dropping as I couldn’t get rid of the error code.
Eventually I unplugged the unit and reached out to Paul again. This time he wasn’t as helpful. I sent him the link with all of the videos/photos, but we never really got anywhere until I started getting angry and pressing to return the unit.
At this point he sends me two maintenance companies in my area with their phone numbers (and presented it to me as if it was my responsibility to call them and I would be in charge of paying for it).
This was the last straw for me. I drained the tub and asked to be refunded and return the unit. I’ve been denied over and over, with them citing a 30 day return period. However, my stance on this is that the unit hasn’t worked correctly since the day I bought it. I’ve lost all confidence that this unit will stay in good working condition over a long period of time
Things stalled out from there, so I cooled off and decided to try to get the unit working again. I filled it back up and simply tried to turn it on. Now I’m getting hit with error code E03. I followed the troubleshooting in the manual and it didn’t work (of course).
And now I’m at the end of my wits with this piece of junk.
To anyone considering buying a Michael Phelps Gilly Goat by Master Spa, please heed my warning. Do not.
I may end up being the only actual customer review on the internet for this thing, so please listen to this advice and stay away.
All of the components on this thing are very cheap quality. I have the feeling a large % of our purchase price is going for the rights to use Michael Phelps name, not in getting a quality product.
This unit is in a climate controlled garage. Not exposed to any elements. Yet it took it 18~ hours to go from 40 degrees to 100 degrees (and potentially burned itself out by doing it). The motor doesn’t work at all ever since making that switch. I can’t imagine what it’d do if you actually placed it outside in the elements. There’s no way all of the lines wouldn’t immediately freeze and burst if you did so in the winter.

A couple of years ago I tried writing my own version of Stones Abbigale. I never got past the first couple scenes, but I'm considering returning to it. I wanted to basically rewrite and change up a lot of things, mainly focusing on Abbi and Davis and changing some elements. Let me know what you think!

1
It's almost four in the morning and Seth is threatening suicide again. Good. Fuck him. I hope he does it. I don't text him that because I read about this girl who told her boyfriend to kill himself. The irony was that when he actually did it she got charged with second degree murder. My life is fucked as it is I don't need to make it worse. It's almost two in the morning and I have to be up for school in a few hours. I’m shivering under my comforter because we’re halfway through November. I think about the turkey that won't get made this year and the family I won't see. I think that's swell. Seth is still texting.
Its like u dont even care after everything that happened and after everything we did together i saved ur life and i stayed with u when u cried and i hugged u and i did everything for u but that wasn't enough was it? i try so hard and all u ever are is a bitch to me that's not fair u want me to die and u hate me and u dont even care and im sick of it abbi why is is so hard for u to care about me?
I don't respond. I don't like how I feel about this. This should be easy. He won't actually do it. He won't. He’s too self involved to kill himself. I put my phone face down on my bed. The sheets shake around it as he sends message after message. I was sleeping on a ticking bomb so I got off of it. My feet stick to the floor, I struggle to step. I might as well have been standing barefoot on ice. I trudge to my window so I can see my street at night. Winter is really coming. You can't hear as many birds as you used to. They've all gone. They've all flown away. I can see three streetlights from where I’m standing. If you can from right to left you can see the concrete fracture into the sand. I open my window and brace for the chill. I stick my head outside. The ocean is not far away. I hear it hitting the shore over and over. Waves of water splashing incessantly, almost beating out my text notifications. The street lights flicker. I think of last summer. When Seth and I got really high after the news broke that my Mom was cheating on my Dad. I was making out with that bong. Emptying bowl after bowl, clanking the glass on the road to empty it out. Just thinking about it makes me feel the street pole against my back again. I was laughing and crying. Seth leaned in and hugged me. “I’m a sure thing,” he said. “I love you and I always will.” I caught my reflection in his sunglasses. I looked awful. I shiver at the memory. My phone is still buzzing. I try to catch my breath. I shut my window and start to walk back to my bed. A room always looks different in the dark. Maybe you think you know where you are, but there is always something that can jump out at you on the floor. Like a ghostly paper bag or a vengeful shoe. Objects that seem to move on their own with the sole drive of tripping you. I crawl back into bed. There's the phantom of Dad’s snoring . I know he's not sleeping in his room, he fell asleep on the couch after finishing his seventh fifth. Sometimes my brain fills in the gaps so I can hear it everywhere. Funnily, I haven't actually heard him snore since Mom left. That's the one thing I ever heard them fight about. Before she turned out to be a whore, I guess. BZZT.BZZT.BZZT. I can't bring myself to read any of his messages. They're coming so fast all the paragraphs are lost to motion blur. Seth’s arms wrap around me and I think about the beating of his heart and the warmth of his lips against my skin. I open up the texts, ready to respond.
I love you
I text this over and over until I fall asleep.
Davis was the only senior on the bus. Somehow, everyone else had a car or a ride. It’s all right, though. James would probably give him one if he had a car, but he skated to school every morning. That's why he barely ever rode the bus with him. The bus thumped along the under paved roads. Davis forgot his earbuds at home, so the only music that accompanied him was his racing thoughts. Two sophomore girls popped their heads over. “Ohmigod, Davis!” One of them shrieked.. “As I live and breathe,” he smiled. “Nice,” she said. “I’m so excited to see your finished painting.” Davis took the lower level art class for a requirement. Like most things, he's not taking it very seriously. For their pop art unit, he's painting a portrait of the art teacher with a warthog face. It's one of his funny disruptions. He knows Mrs. Stanley is going to have a real field day with it, but it doesn't matter. Artistic liberties, he’d profess. “She's such a bitch, isn't she?” The sophomore girl turns to her compatriot, who only nods in response. “She's just jealous,” Davis says. “It must be depressing to teach art and see the youth soar above her.” “For sure,” the girl doesn't get it. Class clown is a semi-heavy burden. Davis doesn't really feel like talking to these girls, but his position demands it. Comedy informs everything about him. To the giant thrift store jeans, to the loud Hawaiian shirt. He and James are the ultimate combination, at least he likes to think so. Quiet brooding begs for bright distraction. The girl is still trying to talk to him and Davis is saying his preprogrammed lines. The bus stops in front of James’s street. Surprisingly, James is standing there. “Like I’m this close to just filling my hydroflask with vodka, yaknow?” says the chick. Maybe she's just trying to get a rise out of him. “Better be prepared to give me more than a sip,” Davis is watching James grumble towards the bus. The sun is beating down on the forming ice puddles. James stomps through them with small shattering steps. James turns up the bus aisle and plops in the seat next to Davis. Davis’s smile is genuine now, but he fights it from getting too wide. “Crash your vehicle?” Davis asks. “Something like it,” there's something off with him. Davis doesn't want to push it. “Well damn, hope insurance covers it,” Davis wants James to break and laugh. Is it just another mood or did something actually happen this time? “It won't, I got bad credit,” James grins and it's like heaven. “What's the move for you today?” “Surviving art and physics for me,” says Davis. “Those bastards love to keep me down.” “Who doesn't,” James eyes the girls who have since returned to whatever they were doing before. It's the judgement stare, as Davis calls it. James likes to observe his peers like a zoo-goer. Breaking them down to taxonomic types. Davis likes to think that James doesn't do this to him, but he knows he probably does. “It sucks you decided to be bad at school and take baby art,” James is still dissecting the sophomore girls down to their tropes. “We could have done Art II together.” “I wouldn't want to get between you and Alex. I know how you love it when people piss in jars next to you.” “That's disgusting,” James breaks his glare at the girls. “It's performance art, it's beautiful,” Davis gets up out of his seat to yell. “Everyone witness the wonderful work of Alex Madov! Disengage yourself from the shackles of capitalism by shouting with me: Poopy, pee pee, poop!” Davis gets a few chuckles from the other kids on the bus. “Sit down, fatso,” mumbles the bus driver. “I will not be silenced! I’m a messenger of the good word, sir!” “More of this shit and I’m skipping your stop!” “Fine, but I will make Alex remember on the day of judgement,” Davis sits back down. James is full belly laughing. “You're so retarded,” James wheezes. Davis can't even come back with a response. He's high off of it.
The bus pulls into the school lot with a short stop. The mobs get up and begin to race out. Davis follows James down the line. “You know Abbi?” James asks. Davis feels a little pit form in his stomach, but he doesn't change his expression. “Vaguely, what about her?” “She's in my art class,” James begins. “And I think … well you know, I’m going to talk to her.” He walks down the steps and out the door. “Doesn't she have a boyfr-” before Davis can descend the driver's arm blocks him. “I’ve had enough of your shit, kid,” he says. “If you keep being obnoxious, I’m gonna find a way to make you pay for it.” James looks back, but he can't stay. Davis knows that he's gotta get to class. James does a little wave goodbye and Davis salutes him. “Are you even listening to me?” the bus driver seethes. “Yes, sir. Divine retribution, got it.” Davis ducks underneath his arm and exits the bus. James has already disappeared into the crowd.
I pass the bong to Ashley. She starts another bowl. She’s the transport and I provide the material. The little things that keep our friendship afloat. I look at the clock in her car. “It's 8:45,” I pick a piece of bagel out of my teeth. “So that's it, we officially missed first period,” Ashley tops it off. “They won't mark us, you know. It's a study.” “Yeah, but when's the last time we signed in? I heard they're changing the policy again. Do you still have the lighter?” I toss it to her. I don't get it. It's always her idea to pick me up so we can smoke before school, why now is she suddenly caring about attendance? “We're pretty girls, we can get out of it. I’m next,” I tap on the clock. “Are you sure it's not fast?” She shakes her head as she takes a snap. We're parked in the pond area a block or two from the school. It's our designated smoking spot. I like it, even at the end of fall it's pretty. I’m so engrossed that I don't realize her tip out the bowl and put it back in the cup holder. “I don't know if it's wise to keep up the activity, we should probably get going soon,” she starts up her car again. “Okay,” I say. She reverses and swings out of the lot. We lean into the silence and it's super weird. “Seth texted me last night,” I wait for her reaction. “Oh,” she grimaces. “What did you say?” “That I loved him.” Silence again. Ashley's trying to put together something well-meaning while understanding that I’ll probably ignore whatever she has to say. “Abbi, I’m not trying to tell you how to run your life, but …” Her expression is now quizzical. She's said what she is about to say a number of different ways all ready. She thinks and thinks and decides to say nothing. Good call, I would have screamed at her. Not because what she thinks about my situation isn't true, I’m just in a ‘screaming at people mood’ because of it. “I’m going to dye my hair again,” she changes the subject to avoid conflict. Classic Ash. “Oh yeah? What color this time?” “I don't know,” she checks her reflection in the rear view. “The red has faded out, maybe blue or pink this time.” “You should go with a softer pink,” I say. “Since you're a soft spring.” “Yeah, maybe.” We enter the school lot. “Listen, do you want to get together when I do it? Maybe you can dye your hair too.” “I don't know, I might be busy,” I say. “Seth might want to do something,” I pause for her to protest. “Okay,” she says. She parks and we get out.
I barrel into art class. I don't care if I reek, out of all the teachers I can tell Mrs. Stanley smokes the most. It would be hypocritical of her to care. It looks like I’m the first one. Weird. I check my phone. It's 8:45. Well, fuck. Looks like Ashley needs to fix her clock. Mrs. Stanley is at her desk. She looks at me knowingly. “Eager to create today, Abbi?” I just nod and sit at my desk. I’m really feeling it. I open up my precalc notebook and just start sketching. Birds, eyes, trees, whatever. Kids start coming in. Their chatter echoes around me, I try to focus on what I’m doing. Someone bumps into my table. I look up. It's this lanky blonde kid, I think his name is James. He presses his hands underneath the desk as he leans up to talk to me. “Eww!” He shouts. Some kids turn and laugh. I don't. I just stare at him. James goes red and sits next to the kid who pissed in a jar. Once an adequate amount of students are in the room, Mrs. Stanley starts her lesson slideshow. On the screen is a dirty urinal. “How many of you are familiar with this work by Marcel DuChamp?” she asks. At this point, Jason, the designated meathead jock, enters the room. “Sorry I’m late, Mrs. S,” he booms. He looks at the slide. “We building bathrooms today?” Mrs. Stanley glares at him. “Wouldn't you like that? Considering you spend all of your time in there.” “Whatever,” Jason brushes his mullet behind his ears. “No, not whatever. Would you like me to move you into the sophomore class with Davis? Believe it or not he's getting much better marks than you are getting in here.” Jason rolls his eyes and takes his place in the chair next to me. “Up to a little extra curricular activities before art, Abbi?” he motions a joint in his fingers. I scoff and go on my phone. There's another text from Seth.
sorry about last night
and
im reading it all right now that was fucked im sorry
I start to respond, but before I can Mrs. Stanley outstretches her hand. “Give me your phone, Miss Hagerty. I’m sick of giving you warnings.” I don't have the energy to fight, I just give it to her. “You can pick it up at the end of the day.” My jaw actually drops. Jason must have really set her off, she's not usually such a cunt to me. “Anyways, found art. What is it? Well, found art is the use of everyday objects to convey an altered meaning. It can be something you find on the street or something that once held value to you. For example, My Bed by Tracey Elim.” She pulls up a picture of a messy bed that looks suspiciously like my own. “So for your final unit of the semester, you will be making your own found art. I really want you to take this project a little more seriously than most of you have been taking this class. I’m giving you the privilege of picking your own partners, but I’d like to remind you to be thoughtful with your choice. This will be worth more for your grade.” I look around. I don't have any friends here. I toy around with the idea of asking Jason for convenience and he looks like he's about to pull that move. Behind me there's that James guy. He’s sheepishly looking at me. He seems kind of nice. Okay. I don't feel like getting up so I just turn around in my chair. “Hey James, wanna be partners?” He balks a bit and then smiles at me. “Yeah, totally,” He's beaming and it's somewhat endearing. Alex and I switch seats and now I’m next to him. “I’m gonna be real with you …” I begin. He stops and shifts a little. “I have no idea what we're supposed to be doing for this.” He regards me oddly. Like he's trying to piece me together. It doesn't bother me. “She said we have to bring in an object that's special to us and present it artistically basically,” he rubs his chin. Damn, I must be baked to hell. I didn't hear her saying that at all. “So got any stuffed animals we can cut up and make Lovecraftian monstrosities out of?” “I got a hamster cage, hold the hamster,” I say. It comes out kind of weird and I probably sound stupid, but he doesn't seem to care. “Let's make a fucking zoo.” “Perfect!” He’s kind of cute actually. In a way. Something about this feels fun. I realize the bell will ring soon. “So um,” I rip out a page of my precalc notebook, still fresh with my drawings. I scrawl out my number and push it to him. “Call me so we can figure out the project some more.” I pack up all my stuff and start to head out. I can feel him watching me and it's not that bad. “I sure will,” he says. Everything feels really groovy. There's a lightness now. I’m halfway out the door when I remember my phone. I can't believe that I just forgot about Seth. I think about begging for my phone, but I feel too above that. Still, something shakes the good feeling as the bell rings.