2.3.5 Controversial views and perceptions of the clinical picture of MCAS
2.3.5.1 Alternative diagnostic criteria ("Consensus-2")
In 2011, the group of authors led by Gerald Molderings from the Institute for Human Genetics at the University Hospital Bonn and Lawrence Afrin published their own approach to the diagnosis of MCAS (51). In contrast to the diagnostic criteria of Valent et al. (1), the focus here is more on clinical symptoms. In 2016, Afrin et al. published a list of the most common symptoms that could indicate MCAS (52). Furthermore a questionnaire was developed and published on a website (53), after the answers to which the suspected diagnosis of MCAS could be supported or ruled out depending on the scores obtained. In a recently published publication, the working group referred to their diagnostic criteria as "Consensus-2" and compared and discussed them with the criteria of Valent et al. from 2016 (so-called "Consensus-1") (51). An important difference to the criteria Valent et al. 2016, the authors consider the symptoms not only as the main main criterion, but also a much wider range of previously unexplained symptoms (111 unexplained symptoms (111 possible symptoms (44)) as the most important indication of a a mast cell-mediated cause (14 symptoms in Valent et al. (1)). As The diagnosis of MCAS is considered confirmed if the main criterion is present together with a secondary criterion and possible alternative diagnoses have been excluded. The secondary criteria, in turn, are based on observations made at the time of the 500 people with suspected MCAS at the time of the first publication (44). Further differences between the two consensuses can be found in the laboratory parameters to be determined. For example, the researchers from different disciplines, which according to their own statements can draw on a wealth of experience of of over 10,000 MCAS patients (diagnosed according to their own criteria, nota bene), consider CgA to be specific for mast cells in addition to tryptase, among other things (44). The counterargument of the lower specificity compared to serum tryptase is granted a certain validity in the addendum to the "Consensus-2" published in 2020 (44), however the differential diagnoses with elevated CgA values should be easy to rule out and other markers are also never 100% specific. However, another group was already able to show in 2017 that CgA should not be used as a marker for mast cell disease(49). Furthermore the group of authors of the "Consensus-2" counts heparin as an important marker for MCAS, which should be determined after venous congestion using a blood pressure cuff (54). This maneuver was reported to cause irritation of excessively activatable mast cells with release of heparin in the congested area. Interestingly, the following section mentions markers such as IL-6 or tumor necrosis factor (TNF) which, due to their lack of specificity, are not used in diagnostics, but only in the evaluation of a successful therapy. The authors of "Consensus-2" criticize "Consensus-1" for, among other things the lack of definitions for a treatment response, whereby the "Consensus-2 does not provide any concrete proposals for evaluating or monitoring the response to therapy. Another point of criticism is the lack of exclusion of other comorbidities or differential diagnoses, such as CFS, EDS and irritable bowel syndrome, as clinical indications of MCAS. [...] In return, the AAAAI expressly points out that there is no evidence to date of a connection between CFS or EDS and MCAS. Overall, the clinical picture of MCAS is so complex and heterogeneous that a precise definition of a diagnostic algorithm is not possible at the present time. Molderings et al. therefore propose the acceptance of both the "Consensus1" according to Valent et al. and their "Consensus-2" until more precise findings are available through research. The resulting disadvantages, such as the the poorer comparability of patient populations in scientific studies would weigh less heavily than those resulting from the rejection of "Consensus-2" (an underdiagnosis due to criteria that are too restrictive according to the authors). On the other hand, the large number of non-specific complaints that are supposedly associated with MCAS harbors the risk of inflationary diagnosis.
2.3.5.2 Presentation in the lay press
An expansion of the MCAS definition with the use of non-validated clinical and laboratory chemical parameters for diagnosis is frequently found in the lay media, above all on websites, but also in the specialist literature. Increasingly, patients with (suspected) MCAS are organizing themselves with commitment and are increasingly organizing themselves into interest groups such as MCAS Hope e.V., which campaigns for the recognition of MCAS "as an independent disease". In addition They also network those affected and their relatives and carry out public relations work, which aims to make the clinical picture known to a broader public. This expansion of the diagnostic criteria described above increases the risk of a misdiagnosis of MCAS and overlooking the underlying disease, which may be easily treatable. On the other hand, such an erroneous diagnosis can also lead to the use of unnecessary or potentially harmful therapies for MCAS and supposed comorbidities (20). Shortly after publication of the review paper "Doctor, I Think I Am Suffering from MCAS: Differential Diagnosis and Separating Facts from Fiction" by Valent et al. a self claimed affected person started an online petition in which she demands the authors and the publishing Journal of Allergy and Clinical Immunology to remove the article (55). Among other things, they criticize the criterion of the tryptase increase, which is too harsh and would therefore prevent many patients from being diagnosed. The clinic also does not typically manifest as anaphylaxis, contrary to what is described in the paper, since mediator release in anaphylactic degranulation differs from that in piecemeal degranulation. Finally, the author of the petition, who sees herself as a "patient spokesperson", reports on personal experiences of frustration and feelings of frustration and rejection that were conveyed to her by doctors in the course of her medical history. The petition has so far reached just under 3,000 of the targeted 5,000 digital signatures (as of December 2020) and shows in particular how emotional the issue of the topic of MCAS is being observed and discussed not only in professional circles, but also among patients. Apparently, some patients find the diagnosis of MCAS to be the last explanation for their multiple non-specific symptoms and hope for more acceptance in scientific circles.
2.3.5.3 Difficulties in making a diagnosis
In recent years, despite the existence of consensus criteria, a (suspected) diagnosis is often made in practice, even though these criteria are insufficiently fulfilled. In some cases, the MCAS diagnosis is also increasingly used for otherwise inexplicable conditions that cannot otherwise be explained. The evaluation of symptoms without a known direct connection with the release of mast cell mediators, for example from the neurological or psychiatric spectrum, as a manifestation of the disease leads to a further dilution of the MCAS diagnosis (43). In the "Bonn" questionnaire, the vast majority of the items asked are not based on the consensus criteria formulated by Valent et al. for example they see the sonographic evidence of an enlarged liver as an indication of the disease (53). The measurement of a tryptase elevation in acute relapse, as required by the diagnostic criteria is difficult to implement in practice, whether for reasons of time, capacity or billing. Targeted therapy trials with maximum specificity with regard to all possible decisive mediators are not possible without prior measurement of urinary metabolites and, in the absence of criteria or measuring instruments often do not produce satisfactory results (43). Last but not least, the wide range of possible differential diagnoses, such as for example from the endocrinological, neurological, psychiatric or cardiovascular area, further complicates the diagnosis (43).
Translated with deep.l
https://refubium.fu-berlin.de/bitstream/handle/fub188/32749/diss_s.gu.pdf;jsessionid=A575C43E11977D2F576404BF69D6469C?sequence=3

Already posted to exclusive pumping groups.
I’m 4.5 months pp and my supply has been all over the place as an exclusive pumper. I was averaging around 15oz a day, then was able to get my supply up to around 17oz only for it to tank to 12oz, and then to slowly work back up to an average of 17oz again, but it took me over a month to get there. Then all of a sudden I started pumping an extreme amount of blood (already saw my ob for it, still looking into things), my breasts weren’t emptying practically at all (I would get 2oz every 2 hours or so, dropped down to 1oz every 2 hours, sometimes 1/2oz between both breasts). Had to decrease from pumping every 2 hours to every 4 hours, and now I’m getting 2oz every 4 hours. But then if I go 8 hours for sleep, I only get 3oz. I don’t understand what’s going on and I’m so exhausted to do all of this work only to have my supply tank all over again.
These are my supply tends. https://imgur.com/a/zBRdca4

The Weekly Blog is Live!

• Championship Week on MTGO: the MOCS Showcase,
  • 2024 MOCS Season 1 Showcase – This Saturday on MTGO Twitch! Eight of Magic Online’s top players have earned the right to battle for their share of $70,000 & two World Championship 30 invitations in the 2024 MOCS Season 1 Showcase held this Saturday, May 18. This is the pinnacle of competition on MTGO – four decorated Showcase veterans taking on four longtime grinders – so be sure to tune in!
• Finals of MTGO Masters, and Discovery Zone.
  • MTGO Masters – Season 1 Finale Tomorrow The four Magic celebrities remaining from the original group of 16 battle for bragging rights, an exclusive avatar, and more in the finals of MTGO Masters Season 1. The semifinals feature a pair of Studio X designers from Wizards of the Coast duel with a duo of past major event winners:
• Vintage Cube 64s return
  • 64-Player Vintage Cube Events Back Tomorrow
• Two Super Qs this weekend
  • Eight RC Slots At Stake This Weekend!

And more!
read all about it: https://www.mtgo.com/news/mtgo-blog-05142024
PATCH NOTES – May 15, 2024

• Colossal Rattlewurm will correctly only be castable with flash if you control a Desert.
• Sanctum of Ugin’s triggered ability will no longer be able to be undone mid-resolution.
• Deadly Cover-Up will not allow multiple opponent creatures to be exiled from other zones if Leyline of the Void is in play.

Where to start. My husband had a stroke about a year and a half ago. We’d been married less than 5 years and are in our 30s. We were about to start trying for kids. The doctors initially said not to worry, he was young and quite healthy, and should make a full recovery in about 6 months.
He did not. Not even close. We found out late last year the damage was much larger than initially they had thought and the follow up neurologists said that he should not expect anymore improvements from where he is now. At least not significant changes.
While he can now walk again, he struggles with balance. He struggles to speak, though I can understand him and so can most others. It’s just slow and labored. He has lost a chunk of his fine motor skills. Sexual function is also gone.
Beyond the physical though he’s gone through some serious personality changes. He’s become extremely reclusive, unhygienic (he can clean himself with his disabilities), and uncommunicative (not referring to the slow speech). This is a huge change for him. He rejects most of my affection, while also not wanting to see or speak to anyone other than me. He spent 8 months trying to convince me into leaving him but then when I finally asked for a serious sit down discussion on if he wanted our relationship to change he cried and asked why I would even ask that.
Kids are likely out of the picture and he’s said that if I don’t have kids because of him he’ll resent me forever. I also need to make some career sacrifices as I am active duty military in a flying job, and with my deployment schedule, that just won’t work for us long term. I’ve tried to convince him that that’s ok! That is what a marriage is, is making sacrifices for each other, but he insists that I should not have to sacrifice for him, he should only sacrifice for me. But that usually only presents itself in him bottling up his feelings, and then having angry outbursts eventually.
I’ve tried to convince him to go to a therapist, and he keeps refusing. I said again last week that it was a nonnegotiable moving forward. Also, every time I try and encourage him to have a better relationship with the family members he lives around, he assumes I’m only doing that because I’m planning on leaving.
As I type all of this, I feel like I am describing a stranger. The man that I knew is absolutely nothing like this. I don’t care that much about many of the physical disabilities, but the personality changes have been so drastic and painful. People ask if it was caused by the stroke, or if it’s just depression because of the stroke, and I frankly don’t know. I am not angry at him. Not even a little bit. To me seems like such an understandably human reaction to having something so horrible happen at such a young age.
I have gone to some support groups, and while they describe similar things, most of them are experiencing this after 30 years of marriage. The last time I went to a group, one of them asked if I had any kids who could help. I had to explain that we didn’t have any children, and probably wouldn’t for a few reasons. She just nodded and said, “I just think you’re dealing with the same situation but it’s just… so different.”
I’m not even sure what advice I’m asking for, perhaps I am just looking to know that I am not entirely alone. Because I feel alone.

I recommend you join TundraCrew on FB. You'll not even consider buying one of these pieces of JUNK.
Try to find a low mileage 2021 and never look back.
That motor is TRASH. There's hundreds of people in that group on their 4th or 5th motor. Let's not even begin to discuss the turbo issues, and everything that comes with that.
Your A** is grass as soon as the warranty is up. Maybe pray you hit the Lemon Law standard before it's all used up.
The 5.7 is a proven workhorse. It'll get you to 250k and beyond with ease. I'm coming from Ford. I've put 50k miles on my truck and all I've done is change the oil and put gas in it.
Again, look for a 2014+ CrewMax 4WD Platinum, TRD Pro, or 1794. CrewMax, Trim, and 4WD will hold their value good as hell. I bought my truck, put 50k miles on it, and it's about the same value as I bought it for.
Let's not forget that the new CrewMax has about the same cab room as a 2007+ Doublecab. Sure, the new truck looks great with the right lift, tire, and wheel setup, but that's as far as it goes.
A quick Google or YouTube of 'new Tundra problems' will tell you all you need to know. And I could post another hundred links if you are incapable of Googling. https://youtube.com/shorts/AVWulyslgWI?si=3Glpaj1UtMYOCQBc
If you decide to buy one of these pieces of JUNK, come crying to us when it's back at the dealer for a new engine within 10k miles. Toyota is known for reliability, but they really dropped the ball on this one.
Happy hunting!
Edit 1: The people down voting are just sour about their purchase, praying their 2022+ will make it to 500k like their 5.7 brothers... I hope it works out for you! So sorry you couldn't see thus post before making your purchase!

original setting by Michael McNeill
Myrla sat at one of the tables in the food court area of Nantrella Station. The Greylin’s crew had discovered several ships docked with family members on board and this had led to a rather impressively large impromptu family reunion with several dozen kwonese spacers gathered up in one space.
She was sitting slouched over the table, the only human in a sea of furry ratfolk, nursing her drink. It was a chocaf that one of the family from another ship had spiked with something s/he said was an intoxicant that she would enjoy. Myrla wasn’t sure if it was intoxicating, but it did add a pleasant richness to the drink and it warmed her in a way chocaf didn’t normally do.
She was reaching the end of her drink and was starting to wonder if she should try to find the kwonese who had spiked her drink to ask for a second round when she realized some of her crewmates nearby were talking about her. She hadn’t been listening, really, her mind just floating along in the comfortable feel of the “group-snuggle” as they called it, so she wasn’t sure what was going on.
After a few seconds of focusing on the conversation, she realized they were bragging about her. That was when one of them turned to her, dragging her into the conversation.
“Yah, see! This Myrla, she top stevedore, better than ya porter drone!” Nellin, one of the crew-family she had little interaction with other than when it was time to hustle cargo, had grabbed her by the sleeve and was tugging her into a small cluster of kwonese sitting around one of the tables. She only recognized one other face as being part of the Greylin crew. Nellin served as the ship’s load-master and chief stevedore, so she assumed the others in the group likely held similar positions on their own ships.
Myrla hoisted her cup in greeting, a lopsided smile on her face. Then she realized she did know another of the faces in the group – the cousin who had spiked her chocaf. Grinning, she pulled her arm free of Nellin’s grip and pointed to him then to her almost empty cup. “I’m going to need some more of that, cousin.”
This set off titters of laughter around the crew as the kwonese in question hauled out a silver flask from his vest pocket. “Powerful stuff, yah!” He made smacking sounds as he fixed her another chocaf from the table’s dispenser. “Makin’ it on the Yeongja, we do. Best you find.”
She drained her first cup and picked up the second. If it was an intoxicant, it was either incredibly weak or it was so smooth that it would hit her like a sledgehammer later. Either way, it was a delightful pairing with the bitterness of the chocaf. She took a sip of the fresh drink, smiling as the warmth seeped into her. The group shuffled around to make a spot for her to sit.
One of the others, a grizzled older kwonese, looked at her one eyebrow raised. “Nellin say you top stevedore. Say you outwork drone. Been load-master on Yeongja ten year and four more now on /San Matteo/. Not seeing that happen yet.”
She looked over Nellin and raised her cup in his direction. “[Samchun ]()[[MM1]](#_msocom_1) has never voiced displeasure with my work. If he wishes to say I work harder than a cargo drone, that is his choice.”
Her comment brought hoots of laughter from around the table. Out-bragging in a family was something of a sport with the kwonese and diplomatically saying they were boasting without calling them a liar was an integral part of the game, even better if you were doing so in support of them.
“Well-saying, [olinee]()[[MM2]](#_msocom_2) .” The grizzled cargo-chief crinkled his snout and raised his glass at her. “But now chincheog making me curious. Never seeing such a thing not being the same as impossible thing.” He paused to scratch his whiskers. “Not working much with your kind, true, so never seeing how much you can do.” Several of the group lightly slapped the tabletop and looked in her direction.
She glanced down at Nellin, seeing his whiskers twitching. His body language was just like it would be if they were playing cards and he were holding a winning hand, waiting on the pool to grow. Long seconds passed before the one she’d mentally dubbed “Mister Flask” leaned in.
“Let’s make it interesting.”
And there it was. Cred-chips started hitting the table and in moments, crew from all the ships were aware of the betting taking place. She sat, sipping her doctored chocaf, as the kwonese around her seemed to turn into a boiling pool of sleek fur and whiskers. Across the table, “Mister Flask” raised his cup to her … and winked.
She grinned back at him, returning the gesture. Now what was that all about?
One of the twins – probably Mikkeulon, from the scent – saw the exchange and leaned close to her. “Oh-ho! You catching Peulla’s eye, then! Good choice, but he wild.”
Myrla sputtered into her cup, but before she could say anything, the twin was gone. Then Nellin leaned in close. “You got this, girlee. Seen you move more easy. Just be going slow and easy and Greylin family got drinks for all station-time, ya.”
Myrla smiled to herself, shaking her head. The cargo-master may have said the Greylin’s crew would have all their drinks covered during their port-time, but given the kwonese need for these family get-togethers, “hajog-poog” they called them, every kwonese on the station would be regular visitors to the Greylin. The betting was just the method they used to pick which ship the party was held on.

It wasn’t long before the entire party had relocated to the docks where San Matteo was set to disgorge its cargo. The grizzled cargo-master, who Myrla now knew to be named Tostiklin, had one of the enormous cargo bays set up for the impromptu competition. She’d sent Orak off to the /Greylin/ to retrieve her backpack, leading to a humorous scene as the young kwonese came running into the docking area dragging the pack that was easily as large as he was. She stripped away the actual pack and her possessions that it held, leaving just the pack-frame. She tasked Orak with perching on the pack itself, to make sure it didn’t get lost in the excitement.
She walked over to the small cluster of cargo-masters and hefted her packframe. “I assume I’m allowed to use a cargo rack, since the drone has one?” She watched as several of them suppressed snickers and Tostiklin wrinkled his snout in amusement.
He waved absently. “Yahyey, of course! Wanting a fair run, we.” He motioned the cargo drone over, which stood almost twice as tall as its crewmates. The crowd settled down to a low murmur as the cargo master addressed the two. “This being the rules. Moving cargo for one minute, as much as you can, ya. No helping from others. No interfering with other stevedore. Move you stack from where it is to indicated position.” He pointed to a pair of chalked squares some thirty feet away from the initial stacks. “Is good?”
The drone’s head rotated from the kwonese to Myrla to the two stacks of cargo containers and back. “I to compete against this gentlebeing? Moving cargo like normal work?”
“Yes, Ledo.”
The drone dipped its head. “Understood but I do not understand why.”
Myrla leaned close to the drone. “They gambling on us. Who can shift more.”
The drone tipped its expressionless face first to one side then to the other while looking at her, a low whir of servos barely audible. Then it looked toward the group of kwonese for a moment. “Oh. Oh. Then … perhaps I should apologize now?”
Myrla grinned. “Apologize for what?”
“I am made to shift significant amounts of cargo. You do not appear to be. I shall apologize now for embarrassing you in front of your shipmates.”
Myrla laughed and patted the drone on its arm. “It’s all in fun, Ledo. I won’t be embarrassed.”
She could detect a faint note of smugness in the mechanical’s speech. “Very well. Then let us proceed.”
“Geebees, are clear on rules?” Myrla and Ledo both indicated their assent. “Then please stand by cargo.”
When they had taken their places, Tostiklin pulled a whistle from his pocket and blew on it. Myrla and Ledo began quickly assembling their loads. Remembering Nellin’s admonition, she carefully restricted her load, adding two containers more to hers than the drone loaded onto itself. It was enough weight to slow her down considerably, but she could still keep up with Ledo without straining.
Together, they dropped their cargo loads inside their assigned squares and Myrla fought the urge to race ahead of the drone, keeping pace with it instead. Twice more the cycle repeated itself, with Myrla carrying just enough extra to stay ahead in the count.
When the whistle blew a second time, the gathered cargo-masters counted the crates in each stack. Tostiklin’s face was a study in surprise as he counted Myrla’s stack again.
He looked at Nellin. “Your stevedore has clearly won. By a mere six crates, but she has won.” The kwonese erupted into cheers and groans, depending on the amount of credits they had won or lost. Tostiklin held up a hand and the crowd quieted down. “But you say she outwork drone. Win by six is much as keep up with drone.”
The crowd inhaled as a whole. /San Matteo/’s cargo chief was treading the fine line of being rude, almost accusing Nellin of lying. The older kwonese narrowed his eyes, looking for at Nellin, then Myrla, then at the crowd. “I like very much to be seeing her truly outwork drone. What is prize money?” One of the younger cargo-masters gave him the figure. “I say offering own creds to match that, double or nothing.”
The crowd went wild, the line of propriety saved. Myrla doubted Nellin had that sort of funds available, based on his change in body language. From behind her, she heard a female kwonese start chanting, “Match! Match!” She and Nellin turned to look, seeing Captain Wanniv shaking her fist in the air. In seconds, all the /Greylin/’s crew was chanting with her.
“Match! Match! Match!”
Nellin looked at her, his nervousness evident, even though things were going exactly like he’d told her they would. She winked at him and gave him a quick nod.
His bearing changed imperceptibly as he turned back to Tostiklin. “Yahyey, chincheog. You be seeing truth.”
Ban Baekui had sidled up beside her, patting her arm. “Time be taking off the governor, ya.”
She nodded absently, her gaze wandering around the room, watching as dozens of groupings indicated the level of betting taking place. “Got your bets made, chief?”
“Already making creds plenty. This to be sheer kwaja!”
She looked down at him, grinning. “The captain plays cards with Nellin, doesn’t she?”
Ban gave her a curious tilt of his head. “Frequently. Why you ask?”
Myrla nodded to herself, looking around again. “She backed him up at the perfect time. This gonna bring some notoriety to the Greylin. And that converts to …” She looked back at the ship’s lead mechanic, grinning broadly.
“Jobs. Bigger and better.” Ban nodded, grinning back. “Not playing cards with you, girlee. Best getting ready, then.”
Ban faded back into the crowd, leaving her with Nellin. “You good with this? Tossi want longer timeframe for this.”
Myrla dropped to one knee, making it so she had to look up slightly at the cargo master. “I need some advice, chief.” Nellin blinked in surprise at the abrupt change in the situation. When he signaled his assent, she continued. “There’s more going on than what I’m seeing. You just used a blood-kin name for him. The captain backed you up publicly under his challenge, so she’s now tied the two of you together, your win is now her win, and your loss her loss. Tostiklin almost called you a liar in front of everyone, but pulled it out by upping the bet.” She scanned the crowd, seeing several non-kwonese beginning to intermingle. “And that is interesting. More geebees are joining the party. And those aren’t spacers.” Her eyes narrowed. “Those are brokers – I recognize two of them.”
Nellin wrung his hands, a faint tang of nervousness coloring his odor. “Is … is complicated.”
“Not from my end, chief. Tostiklin wants to see how hard I can work, because he wants to learn more about my people and is willing to pay for the privilege. And he wants to see me lose to gloat…” She looked at Nellin as he started squirming again. “He doesn’t want me to lose.” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Who is he related to by blood on the Greylin?”
“He brother to captain’s father…” Myrla’s eyes lit up in sudden understanding. “…and is brother to my mother’s mother.”
Myrla’s jaw dropped slightly as several puzzle pieces clicked into place. “He … he doesn’t want us to fail at all. He’s loaning the captain operating money as well as boosting the ship’s reputation.”
Nellin put his hands out to shush her. “Not be saying this!”
The good side of her mouth pulled up in a smile. “Don’t worry, not a word. Plus, by challenging you like this, you gain even more credibility with the family after I smoke that presumptuous cargo drone at his own game. You gain a reputation for understating how good something is.”
“See … is complicated.”
“Chief, go make your personal bets. This run is about to get interesting.”
The next ten minutes was a flurry of action as bets were made and new spectators arrived from stationside. At one point, Peulla drifted by, pressing another cup of that deliciously spiked chocaf into her hand with a wink. Soon, the cargo masters were huddled up again.
Tostiklin had found a voice amplifier somewhere, letting his voice be heard over the noises of the much-larger crowd. “We be setting round two. Nellin, loadmaster of the Greylin Bostlin, say he crewmate outwork cargo drone. We see earlier this geebee do that.” He indicated Myrla and she waved at the crowd, to delighted cheers from more than just her shipmates. “I say she barely beat cargo drone and I ask for a rematch. I offer double to see she truly outwork drone!” The crowd roared excitedly. “I ask to see geebee outwork drone and just minutes not enough. I ask for one whole hour!”
The crowd erupted into a frenzy and Myrla blinked in confusion. Nobody mentioned hauling cargo for an hour, she thought.
Captain Wanniv had slipped up beside her. “Just another day on the docks, ya?”
Turning to the captain with a smile, she said, “Using my own words against me as inspiration? I’m … well, I don’t guess I’m shocked. And yes, I’m good for it.”
“Is good. All this good.”
Myrla gave the captain a wink. “I love how they brought in some of the local cargo brokers and the Dockworker’s Guild to watch. San Matteo is a respected crew. To see them give the Greylin respect will carry weight later.”
The captain’s eyes crinkled. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Finally, the crowd calmed down again. Siezing the moment, Myrla stepped forward to address the Matteo’s cargo-master. “Samchun, it seems to me that all of our competition is being done handling cargo from the San Matteo. If we are unloading cargo, then am I working for you? And, if I am working, then as a member of the Stevedore and Dockworker’s Guild, I have to be paid or I lose my license. And I cannot bet on myself.”
The crowd fell to a dead silence as Tostiklin’s eyebrows rose slowly, first one then the other.
“FAIR!” Someone in the crowd shouted.
Tostiklin glanced in the direction of the speaker and turned back to Myrla, nodding slowly. “Wisdom speaks.” A grin slowly spread across his face. “I will pay you one hour with a bonus in proportional to how well you outwork the drone.”
Myrla nodded. “I accept these terms and your grace in offering them.” This brought a round of applause from the crowd.
“Again! This being the rules! Moving cargo for one hour, as much as you can, ya. No helping from others. No interfering with other stevedore. Move you stack from where it is to indicated platform.” He pointed to a pair of conveyor platforms some thirty feet away from the initial stacks. “Is good?”
Both workers gave their assent.
“Geebees, to your starting places!” Again, a blast from the whistle signaled the start of the competition. Both fell to their task and worked steadily, but Myrla thought it looked as though the drone knew it had already been beaten. For every stack of crates it moved, she moved twice as many. When it tried to match her volume, its speed dropped off significantly to the sound of overloaded drive motors.
They were well and thoroughly inside the cargo bay of the /San Matteo/ and the crowd was only able to keep up by watching on a series of holoscreens that had been set up for the purpose. True to Bae’s request, she “pulled the governors off,” falling into her work-trance, letting the crates guide her flow. The conveyor platforms advanced with them, never more than thirty feet away, making the job a bit less arduous. The cargo-master group was inside with them, as well, and Myrla shut them out by treating them like she did any other client who hung out to watch her work.
She was so deep into her work that the whistle caught her by surprise and Nellin had to physically intervene to get her attention.
“Is good, girlee. We done it. YOU done it.”
Myrla walked out of the cargo hold, blinking and shaking her head, trying to get refocused on where she was. Then she realized the entire hajog was chanting her name. Bae and Wanniv were waiting on her at the bay-door. Bae handed her a bottle of water and Wanniv grabbed Myrla’s free hand in both of hers. “You best lucky charm!” As the crowd caught sight of her, the chant broke into a wordless cheer that threatened to overwhelm her.
Finally, the cargo-masters made their counts and conferred together with a lot of nodding and one shaking their head incredulously. Tostiklin motioned her and the cargo drone forward to join them.
“Thinking it clear who wins.” He broke off with a grin as the crowd erupted into cheers again. He tried to continue twice before the cheering died down enough to let him be heard. “Seeing you never slowed down, girlee. Thinking maybe you having another gear or two.”
Smiling, Myrla shrugged as the crowd went wild again.
“And!” He held up a pouch for everyone to see. “And, here is your payment. One hour’s wage for a class five stevedore. And since you performed double what the drone performed, your wages are doubled.”
Again, the crowd roared and she fought to keep the surprise off her face. She was a class one stevedore and class five rates were significantly higher than she was used to getting. As she accepted the pouch from him, she leaned in to be heard above the crowd. “You are a wise and honorable gentlebeing, Samchun. May your words echo among many gajog.”
That got her an extra cheer from the cargo-chiefs and a pat on the cheek from a grinning Tostiklin. “You taking good-good care of the Greylin crew, then. So, let’s be drinking to this!”

Hey all,
I found this sub a few days ago as I’ve turned up my search for a classic mustang. Always wanted one but wasn’t ready financially or had a second car for when I know they’ll need work.
Now those seem to be in place and I’ve been looking for a few. Found a 1968 mustang that looks to be a GT. Seems to have the original 302 under the hood and a 3spd trans.
Hopefully going to look at it soon but wanted this groups thoughts on points to look for. I know rust is common on old cars and often hard to detect if we’re not pulling carpet up.
I’m not afraid of some elbow grease but don’t have the capability or want to rebuild motors, trans, or do body work myself. Would pay a shop for that. Anything else on the car I feel like in time I can fix.
That said, what would some red flags and places to look be for you?

Before we texted, he often inititated to talk exclusively to me and asked me about myself in more public group chats. Now that we texted each other, I started to care for him, and I've been asking him a lot about himself too. But now he's not initiating anymore, and he's more responding rather than opening up new topics like he used to. He's still very much positive, kind, and excited when we talk it's just- he's more, passive now... I apologised sometimes if I made him feel creeped out by my bursting care for him, and he always said he doesn't mind it at all. I'm not sure if he really meant that.. because he is quite the chameleon which he'll copy a person's personality that he's interacting with.
Are guys turned off, or feeling put off if a girl expresses her care and concern for them a lot, even if they're not interested in her romantically?

Grindhouse theme kicks off the start followed by "prevues of coming attractions"
A narration opens up the trailer "welcome to the hillside, a small town community located on top of a volcano sized hilltop, a community with everything a city wished it had" while shots of people walking around, interacting, socializing,even shopping at small towns stores. "A lake to fish, an army/Navy surplus store, schools, and even a baseball stadium, then a series of unfortunate events and an act of negligence causes a nearby dam to malfunction and flood the entire countryside" a small group of teens look at what used to be a road downhill through the woods, now vanished from the flood waters "what's going on?, that's the only way we used to get down from here, now we're cut off from the outside world". "As supplies begin get scarce and the core of society begins to crumble and shatter, the townsfolk begin to turn on each other, violence, theft, cruelty, MURDER!!!!! as the mayor's son begins to seize control after killing his own father these teens make a desperate attempt to escape with their lives". "What are we gonna do?, how are we gonna get out of here?", "i saw an old fishing barge that crashed into the shores by the forest,if we can attach a couple of motorboat engines from the sporting goods store the back of it,i think it'll still be seaworthy " the next scene would be the kids running through the woods with the engines, while their former friends (armed with guns) are hot on their trail screaming through the night "HALT!!!, STOP!!!!, STAY WHERE YOU ARE!!!!!, DROP THOSE MOTORS!!!!! ". the kids are running through the forest trying to dodge bullets and trying not to damage the motors (natter how many times they've fallen and gotten back up, you then see a close-up of a rifle barrel shoot a flash followed by the echo of the shot as the screen suddenly fades to black. The narration comes back "The Hillside, if the flood waters don't kill you, your fellow neighbors will"
ALSO..........

Retired/stay at home/work from home or just a PC cave dwelling Eve Online addict?
Calling all veteran pilots looking for a smaller group to make a measurable impact or new players looking for a crew that isn't massive.
Experienced logistics & FC's are a plus!
Onyx is a US/NA based crew (EU/AU is of course very welcome) expanding to 50 players. Not 900. Not 300. Just 50.
We are an exclusive crew. No multi Org/Corp players here.
Onyx is an ACTIVE crew. Eve Online is a "daily driver" No weekend warriors please.
ACTIVE= logging in 4 times a week or more and engages with the group.
We are looking for industry focused players as well as PVP driven folks to protect our assets. We are a diverse group that touches on many aspects of Eve to break any grind!
At our core we are industry focused!
ACTIVE players are valued.
Lurking in the discord and not engaging is NOT valuable.
Be valued. Be valuable. Be included. Get in on the ground floor and be a part of building something. Use the discord link to connect and ask me more questions.
Connect with us on Discord to learn about us and what we offer!! https://discord.gg/8WMKrWWDK8
Use my Ref link to get 1 million skill points: https://www.eveonline.com/signup?invc=1b899d2f-48da-49d7-8523-82cb4455b2c9

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Hello!
I traveled with a group of about 41 people last year.
We managed to get car exclusivity on the Lake Shore Limited for Feb 2nd - Feb 4th, and I believe the current cars sit 58 people. Because it was a such a large group, many of whom had never ridden the train before, it was much easier to keep track of everyone in their own car.
We got a really good deal. The booking was made in August of last year.
We want to make this trip a yearly occurrence.
However, the most recent quote we got was $5,000 more expensive than last year's.
My question is, can I talk to anyone about this? I booked several months earlier this year, I thought it would be less expensive, not more.
We had a bus trip for years, but last year we realized (after we got a quote from Amtrak) that we could actually book a train for the group instead.
If we can't get something similarly priced to last year, we'll just go back to being a bus trip, but I'd really love to have us all take the train again.
Can you help me?
Are there travel discounts for groups of 25 or more, or something like that?
Thank you!

M25 F25 Hi so the situation is that I’ve started dating a girl around 4 months ago and I was at her house the other day and asked her if we are exclusive to each other bcus nothing of the kind has been spoken about yet so I wasn’t sure if she was seeing other people or if I could! But anyway she said yes and that she’s not seeing/speaking to anyone else which just to add neither have I.
But anyway long story short it’s been 4-5 months now and she’s hardly ever around! She lives around 45mins away and I probably see her on average once every 2weeks which I really don’t feel to be very much at all at this stage…although we talk everyday her replies can be pretty slow but she still seems to show keen interest when she does reply and we have good sex. My main issue is she always seems to be busy..something nearly every weekend and unfortunately most of the time it’s going out drinking/partying. If it is just a hook up I’m fine with that but I’m not sure why she wouldn’t just say so that I can carry on with other girls. (Not what I’m really wanting)
On top of this she’s going to America with her mates at the end of the month…going to Ibiza with a big group of guys and girls at the end of July and then going travelling round Asia for 4-5months next year!
I don’t want to sound clingy so please tell me if I do😂 but Ill be honest I think I’m cooked here but what do you guys think Any input appreciated 👍🏻

As we all know, there are many factors that can determine the rise and fall of a memecoin. Here, I'm going to explain to you all the Hege Theorem on why Hege can't fail, won't fail, and will eventually reach well over 100mil. It's written in the stars and if you're a community member you probably know already, but I'll split this post into different factors to show you why Hege is the most solid project all-around, and why you should consider buying it and holding it for a couple months at least.
This post aint AI stuff, so don't expect me to say that "our vibrant community fosters a crispy and original project revolutionizing the blockchain". No bullshit, just straight facts.
Hege Factor 1: Dev and Team. Hege Dev has shown again and again that he is trustworthy and dedicated to the project. He has been in the chat every day, communicating every new development and marketing move with the community with maximum transparency. And he obviously hasn't sold a penny. There's also rumors that he'll be quitting his graphic designer job when we reach 10mil MC and go full-on working on Hege. The team supporting our Dev is also composed by chads who recognize the long-term legitimate nature of the project and want to see it thrive. A lot of big holders are in the team too, so many top holders wallets are doxxed and support the chart. Our top holders and loyal whales often also do matching buys, help the chart boom during pumps, and give the community daily TAs on the state of the chart and what to expect from it. Our liquidity to MC ratio is excellent and extremely attractive for whales, memecoins with double our MC have less than our liquidity.
Hege Factor 2: Organic+Paid Marketing blending strategy.
Hege is an extremely promising, yet still very young memecoin. We are only 4 weeks old. For our first 2-3 weeks we relied almost exclusively on organic growth, which brought us from 1.5 to 8 millions just by the sheer power of our narrative and viral graphics. Now, we are taking a blended approach and spending our growing marketing funds to encourage the community. We have already had three big calls just this week. Two were from Chinese influencers, as the asian market access will get us a lot of new buyers and attention. Both influencers have 120k+ following on X, and we expect more whales and big buys in the next days as general market volume recovers. We also were called from the Whale Everything X account (140k+ followers), and a lot more marketing is on the way. We have a CEX listing wallet to gather more funds to be listed in CEXs and a separate marketing wallet where the community and top holders put quite a lot into regularly. It's actually amazing how much (and how many) people believe in this project. Most importantly, we have a newly launched online merch shop which just like everything Hege is extremely cool. Multiple Hege accessories and clothes, and all profits go directly into the marketing wallet. There's also plans to film a video of someone dancing in the club in full HEGE outfit (chad Dev offered 500€ out of his own pocket to whoever would do it)... And it's gonna be a banger.
Hege Factor 3: The community.
Hege's community is unlike any other for a couple of reasons. We are very active in the TG chat, have more groups for different nationalities, from spanish to chinese and Dutch. We have a special Hege After Dark chat for everything...freaky being discussed in the night time. Everyone has a ton of fun and makes new friends in the Hege Fam. The vibe is extremely wholesome and immaculate, so just come vibe with us. You won't regret it. Community and Dev/team also have a ton of trust in each other and believe in this project like no other. We have our own subreddit, X account, crazy cool website, TG community and Discord chat. $HEGE is a movement and it cannot be stopped.
Hege Factor 4: Insane graphic potential.
Something that is not discussed nearly enough about Hege is the crazy quality of our memes, graphics and content. Our Dev is a graphic designer and it shows. Hege has its own recognizable palette with bright, simple colours that are easily memorized and recognizable. New Hege memes come out on a weekly basis. We have just released the first Hege short, and quality is only going up from here. Our merch is therefore also extremely cool, and I think it looks insane even without considering the project behind it. Some of the accessories and clothes are something I'd consider buying if i saw them in an actual shop. And remember all the profits from it actually go into hege's marketing wallet!!
Hege Factor 5: Listings
We have been listed on CMC just last week, and we are now planning to get listed on CEXs to boost our presence and volume, and break through tens of millions of MC. We have some hung members of the team already contributing a lot of Sol to allow us to get listed. But we know we are getting there, sooner or later, cause Hege is a memecoin with a dream, and his dream is to smash. No way we're letting our boy remain a virgin. Which brings us to the key to understanding our project
The ultimate Hege Factor: The Hege Narrative™
All wars and great things on this earth were originally caused by someone wanting to smash. Think Troy. We will destroy civilizations for pus*y.
Well, we are here to make Hege smash his dream girl, Hegena. Hege is a redemption story at heart: he is a little fat, his parents became roadkill when he was just a baby, and he's now going through high school being bullied by the chad hedgehog Hendrix. Hendrix also stole Hegena for himself. The only way for Hege to finally get to smash Hegena is to become a successful memecoin. By making Hege rich, we're unlocking new viral chapters of his story. At 10mil MC, chapter 3 will be uncovered. Help us get Hege to smash and take his dream girl back from his bully!!!
Right now, you could be convinced about the solidity and strenghts of the project. You could be thinking...
"WHY SHOULD I BUY NOW THO?"
Well, the answer is simple: we are on a dip. After a low volume slow weekend (as most weekends are) we are currently hovering around the 3-4 mil area. Last time we had this kind of consolidation (actually lower, going to 2.5mil) , we pumped to 8.4 mil in just two days right after. These last couple days, a lot of volume and interest has been sucked into GME hypecoins, but that will soon be over. Once people realize their profits, they will put it back into the coins they trust and can sleep on, and Hege is the perfect example of that. Don't miss our next pump over 10 mil, it's getting closer: join the Hege Fam now and be a happy man in a couple of weeks.
Check out our socials, shops and website. You'll easily understand why this project's originality is so attractive, and you'll see what the hype is all about. We're just getting started.
WE'RE GETTING HEGE LAID.
CA: ULwSJmmpxmnRfpu6BjnK6rprKXqD5jXUmPpS1FxHXFy
🦔Hege Links🦔
Website: Hegecoin.com
X: https://twitter.com/HegeCoin

M25 F25 Hi so the situation is that I’ve started dating a girl around 4 months ago and I was at her house the other day and asked her if we are exclusive to each other bcus nothing of the kind has been spoken about yet so I wasn’t sure if she was seeing other people or if I could! But anyway she said yes and that she’s not seeing/speaking to anyone else which just to add neither have I.
But anyway long story short it’s been 4-5 months now and she’s hardly ever around! She lives around 45mins away and I probably see her on average once every 2weeks which I really don’t feel to be very much at all at this stage…although we talk everyday her replies can be pretty slow but she still seems to show keen interest when she does reply and we have good sex. My main issue is she always seems to be busy..something nearly every weekend and unfortunately most of the time it’s going out drinking/partying. If it is just a hook up I’m fine with that but I’m not sure why she wouldn’t just say so that I can carry on with other girls. (Not what I’m really wanting)
On top of this she’s going to America with her mates at the end of the month…going to Ibiza with a big group of guys and girls at the end of July and then going travelling round Asia for 4-5months next year!
I don’t want to sound clingy so please tell me if I do😂 but Ill be honest I think I’m cooked here but what do you guys think Any input appreciated 👍🏻

We desperately need your help on the Western front! I know you are happy killing bugs repeatedly, and we do need exterminators among our ranks. But, literally 40% of all divers are exclusively on bugs. 50% follow the MO, and 10% are bots only. When a bug MO happens, we get 90% of the group working to retire that order. When it is a bot MO, we are lucky to get 60%. Without your 40%, we will never achieve the MO's that are bot focused.
For the love of all things Democratic, we need you to put the bugs on hold for a couple of days! We have 800,000,000 ish bots to kill in the next 24 hours. Can you please chip in? PLEASE?!? General Brasch commands it!

Mature 50+ year old advanced photography enthusiast looking to diversify my photography portfolio with portraits, studio, people, architecture, lighting, or commercial to gain more experience. I have mostly taken action, motors, sports, urban and wildlife. If any one knows a local professional photographer or team that requires a helping hand or a second shooter or runs workshops and can help please message or let me know. I am happy for any advice and also looking for local groups to join. Thank you kindly.

I (27F) have been seeing this guy (28M) for almost four months, we've been exclusive since the third date as I had a really frank conversation on my expectations and desire for a relationship rather than something more casual. We haven't actually defined the relationship at this point but we are exclusive, and we act like a couple for all intents and purposes.
We recently spent the weekend together and on meeting up, he told me he had booked a week long trip abroad with some colleagues. This is a group of mostly guys and one girl. He has gone away with guys before, I wasn't expecting him to say a girl would be going. I was put out that he only told me about this after the fact of booking, not because I would have objected but because it feels like a lack of transparency this far into dating. I've also recognised that the fact that a girl is going on the trip makes me feel anxious and uncomfortable, but I'm aware this could because of my previous experiences with my ex. I don't know anything about this girl, not even her name. I know nothing about the trip other than the general date they'd be going and the country they're going to.
I'm disappointed as I feel like I'm still in the dark, and he is yet to ask me to go somewhere with him. As an FYI, he has only known these people since September as colleagues. Is there a way to broach my discomfort? I think another facet of this is the fact that we haven't officially said we're boyfriend/girlfriend yet and that's really important to me and he knows that. We have some plans penciled in as far as December so it's not as if he sees me not in his life anytime soon. Any advice?

Mullen Automotive's (NASDAQ: MULN) recent short interest has fallen 3.31%. Over 1.3 Million shares are being shorted. With only 6.55 Million shares outstanding and IV of 185.6, MULN has the potential to be the next big meme stock. Options markets are predicting future volatility to trade below the most recent 20 day realized volatility. Just a few of the recent highlights put MULN in position to see a quick turnaround. MULN just received FTZ status from the US Government. Bollinger Motors taps Amerit Fleet Solutions for mobile service. Signed an agreement with CA Based HVIP Approved National Auto Fleet Group. Adopts a Limited Duration Stockholder Rights Plan to further protect investors. Introduces a new Mobile Road Service Solutions EV Mullen One. Adds one of the largest commercial dealers, Pritchard EV to their dealer network. Gains approval for the $45,000 cash voucher per Class 3 EV sold. New CARB approval for 2025 Class 3 EV cap chassis truck. Current price $5.78, 52 week high $1,341, it would make sense that this naturally goes to $30 plus without a short squeeze. Is this the start of Mullen Stock's turnaround story?!?!

It is a man, old and scraggy. He wears a jacket that lays over the red plaid button shirt and blue jeans. He wears an old baseball cap and a pair of glasses. He yelled something to Dad, holding his hands up like he was pleading, although we couldn’t hear it over the truck engine. They talked, but we couldn’t hear what they were saying.
“Hey, what are they saying”, I asked, while petting Matt’s hair, calming him. The old man then put his hands down and came close to Dad in a cautious way. They seem to start having some kind of conversation.
“I don’t really know, hopefully, something good”, Mom answered. They talked for a little while, with daylight beginning to disappear, giving us a sense of dread, and making me more worried about what weird creature was going to show up. Eventually, the old man turned and pointed toward what I think is the northeast. They then shook hands and walked back to their respective vehicles. “What’s going on”, Mom asked as Dad got into the truck.
“Well, our new friend here invited us to dinner at his farm”, Dad replied.
“Does he have supplies?”
“Well, he says has supplies for us to make the journey.”
“Should we even trust him? We just met h-”
“Relax, he’s just an old man, living alone at his farm, feeding his cows. What could go wrong”, Dad countered. The old man then entered the truck that was running and drove slowly, expecting us to follow him.
“Alrighty then, but we have to be cautious”, Mom said, with her suspicions of the old man. We then followed the old truck along the dark, frozen road. It just feels like something is going to show up along the road, but nothing happened. Matt did eventually stop crying, but he is still upset about the Joe escape thing.
“Where are we going”, Matt lamented, with the prior series of events in mind.
“I guess somebody is offering us dinner”, I answered.
“Why can’t we just go home?”
“It’s only going to be a stop, like a hotel. After that, we go to our new home, I guess”, I said, taking another look at Matt and cradling to comfort him. “It’s going to be okay.” I stared out into the darkness. I looked to the sky from the window and I faintly saw something in the clear, dark sky, lit up by the waning moon. They were brilliant, green auroras that defy the bright moon, dancing across the sky like ribbons in the wind. The truck eventually took a right-hand turn into another road, with us following suit. I can see a bright, orange light emerging from a patch of tree. When we passed by, it seemed it was a house, at a farm, burning in a massive flame.
“I guess those people aren’t so, uh, lucky”, Dad said, taking a quick look at it before looking at the road. Passing by, we went on and continued to follow the old man’s truck. We passed onto another intersection until he turned into a driveway to what I believe to be his farm. Going into the driveway, I can see an old house, along with a dilapidated farm further away, barely visible by the headlights. The old man parked by the house, where there were a few other trucks there. We parked alongside the truck and we got out into the cold, near-silent night.
“Welcome to sanctuary, where all are welcome”, the old man bellowed. This is the first time I’ve heard his voice. Matt was the last to get out of the truck, slowly and clumsily climbing out of the truck.
“What’s your name”, my Mom politely asked the old man.
“Oh, I guess your husband didn’t tell ya. My name is Steven, but you can call me Steve”, the old man said, with some crackling in his voice. “I am very proud to host a dinner for you and your family”, he continued. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Oh, my name is Janice”, Mom replied, quite pleased at his politeness.
“Hello, Janice, and what are their names”, Steven asked, pointing to me and Matt.
“That’s my daughter Kate and my son Matt”, Dad said to Mom.
“Oh, what wonderful names for a couple of beautiful children you have”, Steve grinned. “Come, it is dangerous out here.” We followed him to the house, which looked like it had seen better days. He entered through the double-set door, the first a solid door and a screen door behind. Entering the house, it smelled like what you’d expect, old man. Looking onto the floor is made of glossy wood and walls with cracks, likely caused by the earthquake. It is dark in there, lit by candlelight from many candles, yet it’s fairly warm here. I don’t know why we went into the house, but Dad was right, Steve is just a lonely, old man. Matter of fact, there seems to be nothing wrong here, other than the cracks in the walls. “Sorry, the power went out. Had to resort to the candles. I knew my wife would come in handy”, Steve explained as he took his coat off. “Oh, supper will be ready right away. Had to use the fireplace to cook. Also, can you take your boots off?” We took our boots and set them aside. We went into what seemed to be a living room, with dusty old-style furniture.
“So, where do we sit”, Mom asked.
“Oh, well, follow me”, Steve commanded, leading us to the dining room, with a long, wooden table and six wooden chairs, along with their corresponding old-fashioned plates, glasses and cutlery, lit up in the candlelight. We noticed that everything on the table was covered in a thin veil of dust. “My apologies, the recent shocks dropped a bit of dust on the table”, he explained as he noticed us looking at the plates and moved into another room nearby. “Take your seats if you like.” We all settled onto the chairs, and blew off our plates of the dust settled there.
“When will we eat”, Matt impatiently said.
“Once Steve comes out with the food”, Mom answered. Matt sat there with a tired look on his face. Dad seemed to be in a better mood than before and it looked like he wanted to start a conversation.
“Hey, should we talk about something”, Dad asked. I then see Steve with a bowl and a silver plate.
“Here we go, may not be much, but at least it’ll fulfil the soul”, Steve said, smiling when he served us mashed potatoes and meatloaf. “So, shall we pray?” That came unexpectedly, as we are not too religious, but we were in his house and gave us shelter and food.
“Sure, we can do that”, Mom said and we all bowed our heads and put our hands together. Steve cleared his throat
“Thank you, Lord, for this good food to feed the soul in these hard times. I shall pray, in the name of the Lord and Jesus Christ, that these hard times shall be over, so we can get on with our lives. Amen.” We raised our heads and grabbed whatever food there was onto our plates. “Oh, there’s no gravy, so we have to deal with bare potaters and meatloaf.”
“Oh, not to worry. Thank you for the food”, Dad thanked Steve. We began to eat the food once we got it sorted.
“So, what brings you here”, Steve asked.
“Well, there is an evacuation order in effect for this area, so we had to go to Regina”, Dad explained, with Steve taking in every word. “So, we came from Strasbourg, we tried going south towards Regina, but we hit an obstacle in the way and we had to take another route, leading us here.”
“And we encountered a few odd things along the way”, Mom added.
“Huh, interesting. What do you guys think is going on”, Steve inquired.
“By the things we saw, we have no idea. Dinosaurs, devil dogs, hell pigs, the whole deal. I shouldn’t forget the earthquake. They told us a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake”, Dad clarified to Steve.
“Hmm… is that so”, Steve wondered. “Wonder what I think is happening? The Rapture is happening. Do you know how the Bible tells us of the end times? Good people sent to be with God and his kingdom, the rest here to suffer the Hell unleashed by Satan.” By this point, he was beginning to rant, but we couldn't stop it as we all began to feel tired and powerless. “So, the Devil will send his demons in the form of these illusions so that they can torment the sinners. It is happening, it is-” Steve manically continued as I drew towards blackness and his voice becoming less coherent. My vision is now all black.
I saw those same lights, but more rapidly than before. I then emerged onto the same clear sky, but something felt different. I can smell something in the air. I can smell what seems to be chemicals in the air. Looking down, I was terrified. Dark, grey rock in the shape of ropes and folds, similar to those I saw of lava flows on a volcano in pictures. This went on as far as the eye could see. I can see no tree this time, just the cooled lava everywhere. I then walked, feeling every bump and crag. I thought I walked forever until I heard a rumbling sound and woke up.
I am in total darkness. It is cold and it smells like cow manure. I tried to move my hand, but it seemed to be bonded behind my back by a rope. I tried to move my feet, but they were also bound by rope to the legs I tried to speak, only to realise my mouth was agape by a cloth in my mouth. I heard shuffling nearby but I could not see. It was then shone in light when Steve entered the door, holding a candle, revealing all of us in the same situation. I then can see what we are in. We are in that same wooden dilapidated barn we saw earlier and seems to be more damaged than the house, wood creaking can be heard.
“These sedatives are more effective than I thought. Maybe I should use them more often”, Steve smoothly explained, like he’s some kind of agent and began pacing. “Wonder why you are here? Well, I wondered the same thing to myself, why didn’t God take me to his heaven? When I first heard of the government telling us of those evacuation plans, I thought it was that, a leaking pipe. I began to notice things I couldn’t believe myself, at least at first. Earthquakes, weird creatures showing up, people disappearing, the whole spiel. I connected the dots. The Rapture is happening, for sure, but why me? Why was I the one left here on this Earth”, Steve calmly ranted, pacing around the barn, but it seemed to sound crazier and angrier the more he paced. “I thought I had lost my way. I’ve been unfaithful to God and his son. But, I realised that God always has a plan and he left me on this Earth to serve a purpose. I wondered what my purpose was until I had a moment.” He then stopped in place and calmed down. He turned to look at Mom with accusing yet crazed eyes.
“I’m supposed to keep the sinners here in line, to earn a place in God’s kingdom, or suffer in Hell. I know you are a sweet woman, Janice, but your treachery with Satan is over and I am going to do what’s right.” Mom then looked at all of us, with assuring eyes like that of an innocent yet caring mother we all know knew. I began crying and trying to speak through the cloth, but I was helpless to watch by. “Forgive me, Father, for what I am going to do.” He then pulled a knife from his pocket and plunged it into Mom’s neck with no mercy. I looked away once he did that, trembling, with tears pouring out and my vision glazed and I fell limp. I could see my brother tearing up, but he did not look away. I can hear Dad behind me, with his screams of agony and anger covered by the cloth. It felt like I was in slow motion, taking in every moment.
I then heard the chair, screeching as Steve dragged the chair containing Mom’s lifeless body towards the door, leaving behind a trail of blood. I couldn’t bear to see my mother like this. I shut my eyes very hard and hoped it would go away. The door then shut, leaving us alone with a candle, fearing what would come next. I stared at the candle, seeing it dance in the flames like a woman dancing in the darkness. Is this how it’ll end, I thought. End up dying to this sick man? My Mom was killed in front of me. I sobbed with that thought, then I began to think about the inevitable death of me. I hope there’s something after I die. Maybe I’ll see Mom again.
It was silent for a while, nearly no sound other than our moans. Dad seems to be fidgeting at the back of his chair, rocking it slowly. Looking past him, I shuddered at the glistening pool of blood, where Mom was last alive, could be my fate. I then see Dad release his arms from the back of the chair and remove the cloth from his mouth. He silently stood up and bent down to untie his legs from the chair legs. He then went to me and removed my cloth.
“H-h-how did you do that”, I silently wept, fearing that Steve would show up at the door and kill us all.
“My binding is loose. The old man probably took a liking to me”, Dad whispered. “I should remove your binds.” He untied them, releasing me, doing the same for Matt. “Now, we need to be quiet.” We then walked, quietly, along the painfully creaking wood in the near dark, following the blood trail, glistening in the candlelight. We cringed and dreaded each sound we made and watched the door in case it began to creak open. A few silent steps later, we made it to the door and we slowly opened it so as not to make any noise. What was revealed to us is nothing new, other than the blood trail continuing in the snow directing towards the back of the barn. “Okay, Kate, Matt, you guys run to the truck.”
“What about you”, I sobbed.
“Don’t worry about me”, Dad responded, giving me his keys and forcing them into my hand. “If I’m not back in a few minutes, leave. Don’t look back, take care of your brother, okay? I love you, no matter what happens.” He then kissed me on the head and ran to follow the blood trail. We quickly walked towards the black truck, stranded there for maybe hours. Getting closer, freedom is getting closer. When we got to a fair distance to the truck, I heard footsteps behind me and, the next thing I knew, I was knocked over to the ground into the hard snow on my face. A hand turned me over to give me a glimpse of a crazed Steve, his eyes wilder than before.
“Oh, yes, trying to escape”, he bragged. I looked at him, frozen in fear, like a deer in headlights and he caressed my face with his bloodied blade. “You do have a pretty face, but I’m afraid you are just one of Satan's creations, made to pull me to lust.” He then raised his knife in the air when a familiar side emerged, out of the blue.
Joe came and bit him in the arm that was holding the knife. Steve screamed in agony the moment he realised what happened. He shook Joe off and stood up to stand his ground. I stood up as Joe hissed and walked around the crazed being he wounded, not in fear but in aggressiveness. “Is this one of your pets, demon”, Steve screamed as Joe came in for another attack, but Steve countered that with a slash to the snout. Joe then ran away, whining, into the darkness. This sequence of events gave me the chance to enter the truck on the driver’s side. I had some trouble starting it, besides this is my first time driving a truck.
Steve menacelily walked towards the when Dad came barreling and tackled him to the ground. Dad was on top when he went limp. I finally put the keys in the engine turned it on and backed out, with memory serving me the instructions on such a vehicle. Steve pushed Dad’s body and stood up, but by that time, we left the farm.
“Turn back, we have to get Dad”, Matt cried, but I was very emotional, accepting what happened. I felt that, without my parents, I feel… useless.
“Dad’s dead”, I screamed at Matt and he began gagging uncontrollably in tears. I began to feel sorry for him. “Sorry, I, I don’t know.”
“It’s okay”, Matt sniffled. “I guess Mom and Dad are dead anyways.” It was silence for a few more minutes, tears welling in our eyes.
“Hey, our parents are in a better place”, I said, trying to make the situation positive.
“But we are stuck here, without them? Don’t we deserve to go to a better place?”
“Don’t say that”, I huffed and I paused for a bit. “I know we are in the, uh, right place now. Let me tell you something, once we get to Regina, I will take care of you, no matter what life throws at us.”
“What about Joe”, Matt asked.
“He’ll be fine. He probably found his girlfriend already.”
“Hey, don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“I, uh, I don’t have one. That I know of”, I spoke, bringing me back to Sam, remembering that she’s the only friend that I ever knew, and I left her. Without her, I felt alone, no one would ever relate. I began to tear up. “I don’t have any friends. I am alone,” I sobbed.
“What do you mean? I’m your brother!” I looked at Matt, and smiled, happy that he acknowledged that we were in this together.
“Thank you”, I thanked him. I slowly stopped on the road, just to hug Matt hard, crying my eyes out. We then heard what sounded like an elephant in front of us. We looked up to see a walking snow-covered brown fur wall with four pillar-like legs in front of us. Its curved tusks gleaned in the light and the eyes reflected in the light. The furry trunk waved around like a searching snake from a tree. We both knew what it was.
“Hey, look at that, a woolly mammoth”, Matt said, excitement running through him. At this point, we weren’t surprised.
“Yep, that is a woolly mammoth”, I added. The mammoth turned to us on the road, seemingly confused about where it was. It looked at our truck and seemed to growl, like an elephant. We are starting to realise this thing is becoming aggressive.
“Uh, should we move”, Matt asked. I remembered hearing something about standing your ground in case of an encounter with an elephant. I hoped it would work for a bigger, furrier version of one.
“No, we have to stand our ground.”
“But, it’ll attack u-”
“Trust me!” I then honked my horn and it backed up. It then rushed, then stopped, a mock charge. Eventually, it moved out of the road, disappearing into the darkness. We sighed in relief.
“That was close”, Matt sighed. I then continued to drive in the night, headlights leading the way. The road is bumpy, as noticed by every ditch and peak we hit, but surprisingly, Matt was fast asleep. I began to get comfortable driving and used to the road by that point. It was silent for a while until we hit a smaller intersection. That is when the truck shut down, completely and stopped. I tried the gas many times but with no effect. There is no light, nothing. It is near-darkness here, shone only by the moonlight.
“Shit”, I yelled, desperate to turn the truck on without much success. Matt woke up, confused.
“What happened”, he yawned.
“The truck turned itself off. I can’t get it back on”, I fretted and at that moment, Matt was just as panicked as I am.
“Why?”
“I-I don’t know. One moment, we were driving, another it just-”, I quavered, when I heard something rustle in the distance. We stood still, hoping whatever it was didn’t find us. I looked around, hoping to see something in the moonlight. I then see a long, walking animal. It looked like some sort of alligator at first, except for a dinosaur-like head. Once I strained my eyes to the darkness, my fear levels rose as I could see it walk on its hind limbs, with its forelimbs dangling nearly touching the ground.
It was wandering around on the road when I heard a near-crocodilian growl at Matt’s side of the truck. Another of those creatures appeared, seemingly looking into the window like a hungry bear, giving us a chance to see its scaly head. Its exposed alligator teeth gleaned in the light like knives, but more terrifying was the eye. Its serpentine pupil shone brilliantly in the light like eyes in the dark. It then ducked down, gave a hiss, and moved towards the other one. A few more showed up and formed a group.
“What should we do”, Matt asked. “Should we stay?” I looked around, hoping for another way to escape them without them noticing. I further strained my eyes and mentally mapped out the area. There is a cemetery on my right-hand side, a grain bin storage yard on my left and a series of trailers on the other side of the highway, which is ahead of us, from the storage area. There, I see a series of white, storage buildings, something we can go to and wait it out inside.
“Okay, so slowly open the door”, I instructed Matt. The click of the doors opening cringed us. We looked at the group, but there was no response from them. We then, as slowly as we could, opened the door and stepped out. Still no response. Matt then quietly ran to the other side, towards me. “Okay, we are going into the storage yard and go to the other entrance”, I said, pointing to the other right-hand corner. I wanted to get as far away from these things as possible before making a safe crossing. “Then, we cross the highway on the other side, run into the buildings and stay there for the night. Are you ready?”
“I guess”, he whispered, looking at me in fearful doubt.
“We are going to do this”, I whispered back. We then silently ran over, having to rely on our night-adapted eyes, to the corner, walking past the bins. We made it and nothing behind us so far. “We’re good so far.” We then crossed the road and noticed nothing. We noticed a tanker truck, leaking some sort of fluid across the road. I easily recognized it as fuel, based on its distinctive, sickly smell. I wouldn’t be worried about it if it weren’t for a collapsed light pole that is somehow still flickering with electricity near the area where the fuel would be flowing. We quickly avoided the fluid when I froze to see the group of the walking alligators, running towards us. “Run!” Matt tried to run, but one of those things appeared and clamped its jaws at the back of his neck. He yelped in pain and it took him down to the ground. “Matt”, I yelled, helplessly watching as the creature tore into him.
Matt reached out his arm before the others came to him, then a flash of fire came. At this point, I knew what happened, but I couldn’t even think before it exploded. It blew me towards the building, far away. I was knocked out for a few seconds before I regained consciousness, groaning in pain on the ice. I noticed something especially painful just below my chest. I reached towards the area with my hand. I pressed on it, more painful than ever and raised my hand, only to see blood, brightened by the fire. I realised I was wounded, maybe by shrapnel made by the explosion.
I looked toward where the truck was and all I saw was a blaze. Those things weren’t there, at least. I also noticed something else, too, there’s no Matt. I tried to look around for something, some sort of sign of my brother within the fire, but I saw none. I then wept, realising I had failed. I have failed to keep him safe. I have failed to give him a better life. I failed him as a sister. I could’ve done better. The thoughts poured in as tears glazed my eyes. At that moment, I failed to look around me.
I noticed a dark thing beside the blaze. I thought it was Matt, preparing to greet him back, even though I knew he couldn’t survive the explosion. The image became clearer and clearer as I noticed it was one of the walking crocs that, glazed by the fire, was coming towards me.
“Just kill me”, I screamed, preparing to painfully die to meet my maker. The creature was about to attack me when something large, silent as the wind, came charging and clamped down its massive jaws, filled with conical teeth on the hapless creature and raised it. The crocodile struggled before going limp with a crunch within its strong jaws. The big, dark and scaly monster that it is towered over me and is as long as a bus, possibly longer. Its large legs are a contradiction to its small arms that hide beneath its scarred, bulky body.
It turned to look at me with an oddly bird-like expression, revealing in the firelight numerous scars from battles I could never know and looked at me with its beady bird-like eyes, breathing out wisps from its nostrils like a dragon in the cool air. I recognized it as a creature I know too well, a T. Rex. I breathed heavily and sickly, looking at the thing, nearly expecting me to drop the body and go after me. Instead, it simply walked away, carrying its bloody prize with it, and steadily retreated into the darkness.
I then lay down in agonizing exhaustion on my back, thinking of the next step of action like I'm on a suicide mission I would never come back from. I looked in the direction of the graveyard and had one thought. I guess I am dying. a graveyard will do. I struggled to stand up, noticing my blood-soaked clothes and felt a broken left leg. I grasped my wound, limping step by step and enduring the sharp pain while shaking in the cold. Every step I took, I remembered all the memories, good or bad, that I had with my parents. My brother. My friends. My family. I eventually reached the cemetery and slouched at a tree.
“Guess I’m joining you, guys”, I said, speaking to the snow-covered gravestones, only to hear something. A familiar sound of chirping emerged and, lit by the blaze, it was a sight I can hope for. “Joe, what are you doing here”, I depressingly cheered as Joe went to me and curled up in my lap as if he were a cat. I noticed the new-found scar he had on his little snout, but I paid no mind as I petted him. “I guess you came back. Thank you so much for what you did”, I thanked him, not expecting such a loyal creature would be with me, comforting me, to the end, like what my mother used to do when I was a newborn. I heard another noise, this time a deep rumble.
I thought it was another earthquake coming, but it got louder the closer it got to me, becoming more animalistic only felt small vibrations I barely felt. Joe stayed put, oddly enough, as T. Rex, different from the first one, came. It walked towards us until it stopped short of us. It began to produce a low-pitched, bird-like purring, attracting Joe. I realised something, that this T. Rex is Joe’s parent. He joined the rest like him, whom they showed up and all chirped around.
The grown Rex then brought its snout closer to me, not to kill me, but to look at me. It did not reveal its teeth and was still purring. I put my hand out and its nose came close to it. It rubbed it against my hand and started to pet its cold, scaly skin as it breathed through its nose and put it on my chest. I rested my head on it before it pulled away. It gave out a hiss, but I knew it wasn’t that of a threat, but more of a thank you for bringing its small, sometimes immature, child home.
That gave me relief, as it felt like I at least did something for once. They walked away, along with Joe, towards the darkness amongst the gravestones in the cemetery. I glimpsed one last desperate look at Joe before walking beside his parent. I looked up at the sky and I could see all the stars, twinkling, and the dancing green auroras. I began to feel limp and felt the cold embrace of death coming over me, tears pouring out of my eyes. The sky then grew brighter and brighter, the stars faded into the light and I could see my family welcoming me to a new home. It then slowly went black, darker than a cave.
You would think this is the end of me. It wasn’t, or else I wouldn’t be writing this right now. I eventually woke up in a hospital in Regina. I was told I was rescued by a team that transported me while I was in a coma. The doctors said I was very lucky to be alive, as the shrapnel narrowly avoided my vital organs. After that, I was adopted into a new family, but I was only with them for a couple of years before finding a new job and moving out.
As for Sam, I don’t know what happened to her. I would like to think she is safe, somewhere else. As for my family, I think of them all the time. I was in a depressive period right after that. Eventually, over the years, I accepted that they were gone and went to a better place. For Joe, I would like to think he is all grown up, like his parents, and becoming the king of the jungle. I hope we meet again.
As for the evacuated area, it wasn’t some pipeline rupture that caused an evaluation, but an anomaly, with the exact reason not known. There are excuses for the claims of weird stuff going on in there, from disease to chemicals, to eventually a previously unknown geological event, but I saw through it all.
You may ask how, it's because I've been there. Take it or leave it, this is the story I have. As the decade came by, cover-ups were made to hide it, even walls were put around it. Since the incident, the exclusion zone grew from a mere 80 kilometers in diameter to 460 kilometers in diameter, emptying entire cities of the likes of Regina and Saskatoon. I had to move to North Battleford, by the recommendation from the same government covering it up, making me think that time will tell before the floodgates of truth open.
The anomaly didn’t have a name initially, however, over the years, everyone agreed on one name in particular: The Saskatchewan Anomaly.

Are you curious about what goes on behind closed doors at a prestigious institution like Believers IAS Academy? Wondering what a typical day looks like for aspiring civil servants? Join us on an exclusive journey as we peel back the curtains and provide you with an insider's glimpse into the daily life at Believers IAS Academy.
Morning Begins:
The crack of dawn signals the start of another bustling day at Believers IAS Academy. As the sun rises, so do the dedicated students who aspire to serve their nation. The campus is already abuzz with activity as students eagerly make their way to the classrooms, armed with determination and a thirst for knowledge.
Lectures and Workshops:
The cornerstone of the academy's success lies in its rigorous academic curriculum. From political science to economics, students engage in a diverse range of subjects that are crucial for success in the civil services examinations. Expert faculty members, many of whom are former civil servants themselves, conduct engaging lectures and workshops, imparting invaluable insights and strategies to tackle the daunting UPSC syllabus.
Study Sessions and Group Discussions:
Afternoons are often spent in intense study sessions and group discussions. Students huddle together in study groups, poring over textbooks, reference materials, and previous years' question papers. The exchange of ideas and perspectives fosters a collaborative learning environment where students challenge each other to think critically and analytically.
Mock Tests and Feedback:
As the day progresses, students gear up for mock tests designed to simulate the challenging conditions of the actual UPSC examinations. These tests serve as a litmus test of their preparation levels and help identify areas that require further improvement. Faculty members provide constructive feedback and personalized guidance, ensuring that each student receives the support they need to excel.
Evening Reflections:
As dusk descends upon the campus, students gather for evening reflections—a time for introspection and self-assessment. They reflect on the day's learnings, victories, and setbacks, drawing inspiration from their collective journey towards a shared goal. It's a moment of camaraderie and solidarity, reinforcing their resolve to persevere in the face of adversity.
Beyond the Classroom:
But life at Believers IAS Academy extends far beyond the confines of the classroom. The academy organizes guest lectures, seminars, and interactive sessions with eminent personalities from the field of governance and administration. These interactions provide students with invaluable insights into the practical aspects of civil service and inspire them to strive for excellence.
Community and Support:
Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of life at Believers IAS Academy is the sense of community and support that permeates the campus. Students come from diverse backgrounds, yet they share a common bond—a burning desire to serve their nation with integrity and dedication. This shared aspiration creates a supportive ecosystem where students uplift and motivate each other, transforming competition into collaboration.
Conclusion:
A day in the life at Believers IAS Academy is a testament to the unwavering commitment and resilience of its students. It's a journey marked by hard work, sacrifice, and determination—a journey fueled by the belief that one person can make a difference. As the day draws to a close and students retire to their dormitories, they do so with a renewed sense of purpose and determination, knowing that they are one step closer to realizing their dreams of serving the nation.
At Believers IAS Academy, every day is a step forward on the path to excellence, and every moment is an opportunity to make a difference.