Weed coin

One thing that has not been mentioned is that a certain percentage of the pooled coins are going to Berner, the founder of one of the biggest weed brands, Cookies. It says that they are for a giveaway. It says it in the tokenomics section and on the road map. If that is the case then we already have one of the biggest weed brands supporting the project! If you invested in this coin you are a gambler whether you want to admit it or not. So let's sit back, get high, and watch the cards unfold!

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

SinVerse
Platform(s): PC + (mobile to come)
Genre: Mafia MMO
Status: Alpha
Access: Public (free-to-play)
CoinMarketCap: https://coinmarketcap.com/community/profile/TheSinverse/
Blockchain: BNB
Token: $SIN
On-Chain Asset Links: https://marketplace.sinverse.com/
Official Site: https://www.sinverse.com/home
X/Twitter: https://twitter.com/TheSinVerse
Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@SinVerse
Medium: https://medium.com/@TheSinVerse
Discord: https://discord.gg/SinVerse
Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/thesinverse
Some additional information:
Although compared as a GTA clone, this is a sandbox MMO game (game economy inspired by Eve Online and the Mafia series).
This free-to-play game centers around becoming the ultimate kingpin, with the in-game currency operating on GOLD. Acquire GOLD by purchasing from the in-game marketplace or earning it by defeating NPCs, completing missions, or collecting briefcases.
$SIN serves as the primary transactional token, enabling the purchase of on-chain assets like land and business licenses for underworld activities, yielding passive income from ventures like a car shop, Weed Farms, and Coffee Shops.
SinVerse hosts regular e-sports tournaments for faction/team-based events in their battle arena—a mafia-themed side game outside the main metaverse. These events are typically free to participate in, enhancing the overall gaming experience.
Play SinVerse: https://sinverse.com/downloads

Hi, I just bought some Carpro TarX and IronX, as well as some Meguiars All Wheel just to try it.
My car is 4 years old but has never had a good detail (I've owned it for 2 months now).
I don't own a hose nor a pressure washer, but I do have some ONR and a sprayer, as well as an ONR sponge, some towels, a wheel brush and Opti-Seal.
I have noticed quite a few spots on my paint after washing with ONR, and I think it's a mix of bugs, tar and iron. I wanted to do a full decontamination so keeping my paint clean in the future is gonna be easier.
My plan is to go to a coin operated car wash after washing and drying my car with ONR once.
Once there, I'd start with TarX. How should I avoid the plastic parts such as headlights or mudflaps, I heard it damages that? After a few minutes I would rinse it off with the pressure washer with "not quite demineralized water".
After the TarX, I'd spray the car with IronX, let that soak for a couple of minutes and pressure wash it off again. I'd spray some Meguiars all wheel cleaner on my wheels, agitate it with a wheel brush and then pressure wash that off too.
After all this I plan on spraying some more ONR on the car to avoid water spots and driving back home to finish it off with another ONR wash and drying with Opti-Seal.
Is there anything I could do to be more efficient? Is most of what I'm doing even necessary? Is there anything I should be careful of that I am not thinking about now?
I was thinking about adding a clay towel to the mix, in that case I would only go to the coin car wash to soak and rinse the TarX off. Then at home I'd soak the car in ONR, spray the IronX on the clay towel as lubricant and claying the car. Then I would spray it all off again with a weeds sprayer. I heard this causes marring though , I don't want to polish my car without a garage or power nearby. And I'm afraid of the IronX drying on the car and my sprayer not being powerful enough to remove it all on time.

1. A house has 16 Letter 1. Wind 2. Rain 3. Sun 4. Air 5. Water 6. Fire 7. Dark 8. Divine 9. Clan 10. Master 11. Ruler 12. Jonnay (Local 1) 13. Tiffany (Local 2) 14. Nathans (Cat 1) 15. Hakes (Cat 2) 16. 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rlkey = 8vejr3pfkskq104e5da51ocgm & dl = 0 2.2.1 Full Ryuken Style Retreat 2.2.2 American Style 2.2.3 Hyaluronic Water Display 2.2.4 Multiple Accessible Toilets 2.2.5 Hostel Home Associated 2.2.6 Standard 16 Bar 8 Lumen System 2.2.7 Associated to Virtual Riot Energy Drink Contest House 2.2.8 Full Plumbing 2.2.9 Only Outdoor Pool 2.3.0 Mandelbrot's Portion https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / 4rsa861mh57tv6ibiqc7f / AHer3vgPNYOdj8UR3q4atNI ? rlkey = sx4nhltlh6mqmzw8s9cbay4ei & dl = 0 2.3.1 Full 4 Bedroom 4 Bath Lakeside House 2.3.2 Intrinsic Music Studio 2.3.3 Standard 16 Bar Oxygen 8 Lumen System 2.3.4 Plumbing for Every Bath 2.3.5 Connector Upstairs Adjoiner 2.3.6 Included Medical Access 2.3.7 Clothes in Every Room 2.3.8 PC in Most Rooms 2.3.9 Reserved Canadian Graveyard Spot 2.4.0 Tim Garza's House https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / exy2mkx34e4vyyx3gm9zm / ANDv3_B38xt2wFxTfjpMvy8 ? rlkey = nzhtm8ozk9azxem7bgvcrx1pw & dl = 0 2.4.1 Nonstandard 14 Bar High Altitude 8 Lumen System 2.4.2 Comes with Additional House Patrick's House https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / g556jmzhsi70ikjcdsm8c / AOypud9QDtb5h5ELYoZQxxk ? rlkey = 7obp5svlq35q6kz7rw6ejhrer & dl = 0 2.4.3 Nonstandard 14 Bar High Altitude 8 Lumen System 2.4.4 4 Bedroom and 3 Bedroom House with 2 Bath and 1 Bath 2.4.5 Part of a development with further 2 Houses 2.4.6 Plumbing for Every Bath 2.4.7 Other two houses not for sale 2.4.8 Comes with Clothes in Every Bedroom and A PC In every bedroom 2.4.9 Comes with Kitchen in both house 2.5.0 KPOP House https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / 0gn89hioxlhy99hkeofl y / AOQJj6Q60JxCyfzn_Zqqh04 ? rlkey = 8997eg0yi4to9l05wocrnol53 & dl = 0 2.5.1 Kpop contest House, 4 Bedroom 4 Bath house with Upstairs Adjoiner 2.5.2 Plumbing for every baths 2.5.3 Standard 16 Bar 8 Lumen System 2.5.4 Comes with intrinsic music studio 2.5.5 Comes with clothes in every bedroom 2.5.6 Comes with PC in every bedroom 2.5.7 Comes with KPOP Marketing display tool 2.5.8 Comes with participation in radio contest 2.5.9 Music tape recorder not included 2.6.0 Intellisecure Headquarters https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / takyluondf4y22byxxkfk / AN6ShFOeGYooczDEjm8zt88 ? rlkey = 77dycju3q87ayh61ci4qlhu57 & dl = 0 2.6.1 A girl, Other Ryan, is getting surgery for her melanoma outside 2.6.2 The girl responds well to her melanoma surgery 2.6.3 There is an upstairs to the hospital 2.6.4 There are maybe 4 rooms to the hospital 2.6.5 There are toilets in each room side room 2.6.6 The girl presumably makes her way to beds in the hospital after surgery 2.6.7 There is a standard 16 Bar 8 Lumen System throughout 2.6.8 There are various medical equipment needed for the girl in the main area 2.6.9 The girl might use the toilet upstairs behind the door 2.7.0 Fries' Sama-House https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / zlrtcq60lnqxj7ic3cae9 / AFed_Pfio_u8Mv3_ktBn2iE ? rlkey = 5y095iaxti5w863uzuaoaa8iv & dl = 0 2.7.1 A 3 Bedroom 1 Bath Downstairs 2 Bedroom 1 Bath Upstairs House with a Dojo Outside 2.7.2 Some people have been partying in the basement 2.7.3 There is a standard 16 Bar 8 Lumen System at high altitude indicating conditioned air 2.7.4 There is a toilet room in the dojo 2.7.5 There is a TV room with a TV in it 2.7.6 There is a PC and a TV in the Downstairs Bedroom 2.7.7 There is some crates of food near the kitchen 2.7.8 There is a downstairs kitchen 2.7.9 There is a whole downstairs area where Fries' Son has another bedroom and some couches 2.8.0 Borat's House https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / qv6mgav9tsizmepwmp8es / AMoiFypY85vOMfnKU1lwduY ? rlkey = muh8z5z7gfql71vb9b820bf4q & dl = 0 2.8.1 A very old house in kalmskya with the ownership of the town store 2.8.2 There is one toilet in the house 2.8.3 There is the neighbor's house 2.8.4 There is the store that borats family owns 2.8.5 The neighbors house has a toilet 2.8.6 Borat lives with his sister 2.8.7 There is standard 16 Bar 8 Lumen System given at the house or elsewhere 2.8.8 There is goods at the store including potato and cigarrete 2.8.9 This house actually is not for sale 2.9.0 Jamal's House https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / jkaaa7dar68oaewd5klys / AK9ZJNVKArzUiGKT_gyPOFw ? rlkey = ie92hphxup1b4bz48f31pubed & dl = 0 2.9.1 Set of 4 Houses 2.9.2 Baths included in each house with plumbing 2.9.3 Standard 14 Bar 8 Lumen High Altitude System 2.9.4 Main Room to Each House 2.9.5 Side Room with TV to each house 2.9.6 Clothes in each bedroom 2.9.7 PC in each bedroom 2.9.8 Back Yard House with Jordan In it 2.9.9 Included marketing display 3.0.0 Centennial Retirement Home https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / dh6hgc85048bdnzv4976u / AC8LJyFV-erivp2kmxCifxA ? rlkey = jt54mis1nytwit9mfmpfdb2h0 & dl = 0 3.0.1 Eight Patient Retirement Home 3.0.2 Medical Provisions Provided 3.0.3 Personell Capacity 16 Bar and 8 Lumen System 3.0.4 Malfunctioning Exterior Toilet 3.0.5 Gymnasium and Kitchen and Pepsi Machine and Mess 3.0.6 Secure Patient Checkin with Scan System 3.0.7 Poor Right Side Adult Ward Baths 3.0.8 Adolescents Ward Can Conceal Marijuana 3.0.9 Good Oxygenation Conditioning 3.1.0 Dubstep Challenge Island https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / l5y84ufg7p5ou9bkp5y8y / AEa_4z_e7YiJp2UzkfI7OWw ? rlkey = l08yxiqn4s7k1c8lilai7y1j4 & dl = 0 3.1.1 Nuerohop out of the boat into the island mainland, avoid the wilderness! 3.1.2 Get safety to Korbis and Putin and Efe on the Dubstep Challenge 3.1.3 3 Room 1 Trap 3 Bath House Provided with Upstairs Connector 3.1.4 Kitchen and Apparatus Provided 3.1.5 First Banned From The Island Leave Up at Docks 3.1.6 Full Music Studio Included with Beachhouse 3.1.7 Some Dogs Lurk in the Wilderness On The Island 3.1.8 No Specific Oxygen Line Provided for Waste 3.1.9 Found DJ Tool in Boilerroom 3.2.0 Justin Beiber's Mom's House https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / s8guwv5jph98kbxwq8z9v / ADWyXiZtcTzC3myr3ZHJIOc ? rlkey = upizj57oo5t7fdx9egx113cgp & dl = 0 3.2.1 Classic Industrial Area Flat 3.2.2 Included Industrial Area Food Anglomerate Output 3.2.3 Beiber's Mom's House 1 Bedroom 1 Bath Flat Provided, Foyer Room, Kitchen, Bathroom, Bedroom 3.2.4 Beiber Child PC Text Trainer 3.2.5 Clothes In Bedroom 3.2.6 Plumbed Bathroom 3.2.7 16 Bar 8 Lumen System Provided 3.2.8 Childs Studio Provided 3.2.9 Standard Canadian Education Recomended 3.3.0 IRKLUNDANDER Commune https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / bgmfrbvkvh74qg739uqou / AGrF-BK-eA5GRxom5oI71KM ? rlkey = mbswm151h8ozh73ptt59g2s2m & dl = 0 3.3.1 3 Vox Trainer Reality Show Houses Made of Aluminum Glass 3.3.2 Toilet Included in Secret Room Beneath House 3.3.3 Community Toilet included in main area side room 3.3.4 Rations in every house 3.3.5 Space heater in every house 3.3.6 Standard 16 Bar 8 Lumen System 3.3.7 In a Winter Wonderland Area 3.3.8 Includes Clothes 3.3.9 Includes PC 3.4.0 Tim Garza's House 2 https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / 4y216z2iddjpq2llkk4r9 / ACsSuQdkhToPeo-gUq4VuyM ? rlkey = 7tii9866lgyo4qy4jsshtfziu & dl = 0 3.4.1 Similar Format to Tim Garza's House 3.4.2 Includes 2 Bath 4 Bedroom 1 Community Kitchen House 3.4.3 Includes 16 Bar 8 Lumen System 3.4.4 Includes Plumbing for each Bathroom 3.4.5 Includes Appliances for the kitchen 3.4.6 Includes back and front yard entrance 3.4.7 Includes basement and clothes in every room 3.4.8 Includes tim garzas K-Workstation 3.4.9 Includes Heirloom Tomato grow actual tomato in back yard 3.5.0 JK Rowling's Castle https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / xnov07r1vsy8lgr2s7e9q / AHMvwcVoLRce2t-8bl6HMXA ? rlkey = kvh0aaz6js1gv15r3x4omf7yz & dl = 0 3.5.1 Full Castle With Dungeon and Great Hall and Dormitories in the Style of the Movie 3.5.2 Separate from castle built for movie 3.5.3 3 Classrooms moved from the set of the movie 3.5.4 Many 4 Bathrooms With Plumbing 3.5.5 Includes Hogsmeade Buildings on Grounds 3.5.6 Shrieking Shack, Three Broomsticks, and Igor's Tavern in Hogsmeade 3.5.7 Actual Hidden Tunnel to The Shrieking Shack 3.5.8 Standard 16 Bar 8 Lumen System 3.5.9 Appropriate dormitories for players of the movie 3.6.0 The Flavor Isles https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / 8vyh83ce11kf5pb2gwadv / ANsJbcJKKeQI384oE8Se5UM ? rlkey = puoqw30lgu5zhk6erk9yc4s90 & dl = 0 3.6.1 Flavor Themed Disneyland Resort in Joey's Basement 3.6.2 Massive Spicy Shrieking Hut Cuisine and Other Classics 3.6.3 Stay in for a night at a 4 bedroom 4 bath resort hotel 3.6.4 Plumbing for Every bath 3.6.5 16 Bar 8 Lumen Classic System 3.6.6 Use clothes or a PC at the bedroom 3.6.7 Double Depth, Go to the next ride at the next depth 3.6.8 4 Bedroom 4 Bath House in the Hidden Area and another Restaurant 3.6.9 Full Service Recycling 3.7.0 Rented Ice Hotel https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / ddk5zf8729uaiebclbb1o / AIqBsidXAXrTQXi-PCxWdNA ? rlkey = o9yjupq7b823imenx1ybucpzl & dl = 0 3.7.1 One Room Ice Hotel 3.7.2 Made out of Ice 3.7.3 Has Bathroom and Plumbing 3.7.4 Has Ice display 3.7.5 Agnes' Ice Hotel 3.7.6 Real 5 Copy Build Method 3.7.7 16 Bar 8 Lumen Limited Oxygen System 3.7.8 Has Kitchen in Ice Hotel 3.7.9 Has Marijuana In Ice Hotel 3.8.0 Dorisburg's House https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / qy5sgm3j89td9n7g1i5r5 / AA0m-DE6cmlNiFKbL0baT5c ? rlkey = mtmlf5198napxkl3i75hvpnjo & dl = 0 3.8.1 4 Bedroom 4 Bath House With Interior Kitchen and Back Yard 3.8.2 Plumbing for Every Bath 3.8.3 Standard 16 Bar 8 Lumen System 3.8.4 Telivision Room and Telivision 3.8.5 Downstairs Television 3.8.6 Beds in Every Bedroom 3.8.7 Back Yard With Vegetable Grow 3.8.8 Front Yard Access Through Waterjet Channel 3.8.9 Dedicated Oxygen Line for Television Aerial 3.9.0 Bahn Mi Village https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / ovm5lhsgogw4rspchx9to / h ? rlkey = 0n4sdcyb8qi3ebolbab708fgc & dl = 0 3.9.1 Community 4 Hut Village 3.9.2 Standard Lavatory for Village 3.9.3 16 Bar 8 Lumen System 3.9.4 Transit to Another Village, Daft Vox Village https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / ipyuy0vuqpyfzjymcbfkq / AP4Iset5VTAue8bZeWvWqwg ? rlkey = wqs4a2bbqym8qi8eyum96uqcl & dl = 0 3.9.5 Multiple Buildings in Daft Vox Village 3.9.6 Full 16 Bar 8 Lumen System Also In Daft Vox Village 3.9.7 Possible Nice Buildings in Daft Vox Village 3.9.8 Transit Provided Between Village 3.9.9 No Medical 4.0.0 Burma Village https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / hzm7gtq590pu9e1a9u9mb / AJriN2hXiHX7crTIXRThKXs ? rlkey = kf197unmk5ol7luu4mrsby970 & dl = 0 4.0.1 Nice 5 Building Town 4.0.2 Standard 16 Bar 8 Lumen System 4.0.3 Food in Some Houses 4.0.4 Scheming Old Man Putin in Burma Village 4.0.5 Kings Palace 4.0.6 Dusty Banquet in the Palace 4.0.7 Multiple Areas To All Houses 4.0.8 Trade with Putin 4.0.9 Trade for Gambling 4.1.0 Wojak Station https : // www . dropbox . com / scl / fo / 3bjjwhkgpxichahc1naxn / ACH0V5oQrWm0dsUzjeW4fso ? rlkey = z01f8v8k2hhc5z0ace0940ny7 & dl = 0 4.1.1 Full Space Adventure 4.1.2 Includes House 4.1.3 Includes Plumbing 4.1.4 Includes Cars Parked Outside Your House 4.1.5 Includes Taza's House 4.1.6 Full House Interior 4.1.7 Multiple Houses Done 4.1.8 Kitchen System To House 4.1.9 Full Bath System.

I’m doing the 100% grind I’m on the ring achievement. I had no clue I would have to be doing this 😭. I think I have farmed 1 million souls off the 2 knights in anor londo and only gotten 1 drop…. I’m using the rusted coins, the +3 drop ring, and the mimic helmet but still. I just wanna say I hate doing this, but I would hate myself even more if I stopped doing this. Also want to add im ng+3 (think that affects drop rates). I’m going to get to 30 so I can get that spell and the ring and then after that I will move on. Shoutout to anyone who completed this with no difficulty, bless me with that luck! But man.. I wish I had some weed

Geo City Roleplay is back again and ready to become your home away from home. If you have been looking for a city where roleplay matters, then you've finally found it. We aren't the type of server who buys 5000 boosts, so you'll likely never see us on the homepage. We are a team of passionate and caring individuals who love to roleplay.
What you will find inside Geo City Roleplay is premium content, licensed NoPixel server side graphics and add-on cars, fun jobs and so much more.

• Most jobs are reputation based, perfect for grinders and roleplayers both
• Actively hiring PD and EMS (only government jobs are allowlisted!)
• Trucking for passive income
• More than 10 different drugs
• Custom clothing
• Custom in-house weed script
• Snr Buns now open
• Actively updated
• Heist progression system
• Boosting
• Racing
• Fishing
• Many more features and activities to discover
• Qbox framework (better fork of QBCore)
• Coin Exchange custom heist

We aim to balance between criminals and PD for fun and immersive roleplay.
Join in on the fun at discord.gg/geo
Watch our trailer https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9J_CZT4ve4Y
Join now at cfx.re/join/zb8895

Isle of souls. Dark chest, dark keys, isle of souls thieving chest.. probably things people don't even know much about.. but as self proclaimed isle of souls king i would like to bring some more life to the isle.
​
Currently the dark key is only obtainable from the isle of souls dungeon chest with a rate of 1/200. With the dark key you can open the dark chest which loot is currently average worth of 27k. And it has quite random loot table, which i kind of like. It could use a little bit of love but lets firstly go over the dungeon chest.
​
The chest in the dungeon requires 28 thieving to open and gives 150xp, and it is possible to trigger a trap which teleports you outside the dungeon. And its quite the run/walk back to the chest.. Now it being only 28 requirement i don't expect to be that good but i feel like there could be.. tiny improvements.
​
Isle of souls thieving chest
​

Current loot table			Changes	Proposed table
Item	Quantity	Rarity		Item	Quantity	Rarity
			*NEW	Crumbling tower tele	2-3	-
Coins	90-190	1/10	-	-	-	-
Feather	30-80	1/10	*Changed from 30-80 to 50/100	Feather	50-100	-
Grimy guam leaf	1-2	1/10	*Changed from 1-2 to 2 (noted)	Grimy guam leaf	2 (noted)	-
Nature rune	1-2	1/10	*Changed from 1-2 to 2	Nature rune	2	-
Death rune	1-2	1/10	*Changed from 1-2 to 2	Death rune	2	-
Mind rune	1-10	1/13.33	*Changed from 1-10 to 5-10	Mind rune	5-10	-
Grimy lantadyme	1	1/16.67	*Changed from 1 to 1 (noted)	Grimy lantadyme	1 (noted)	-
Grimy ranarr weed	1	1/20	*Changed from 1 to 1 (noted)	Grimy ranarr weed	1 (noted)	-
Uncut sapphire	1-2	1/25	*Changed from 1-2 to 2 (noted)	Uncut sapphire	2 (noted)	-
Uncut emerald	1-2	1/25	*Changed from 1-2 to 2 (noted)	Uncut emerald	2 (noted)	-
Chocolate bar	1	1/33.33	-	-	-	-
Bird snare	1-2	1/33.33	-	-	-	-
Box trap	1-2	1/33.33	-	-	-	-
Uncut ruby	1-2	1/33.33	*Changed from 1-2 to 2 (noted)	Uncut ruby	2 (noted)	-
Mithril pickaxce	1	1/33.33	-	-	-	-
Mithril axe	1	1/33.33	-	-	-	-
Uncut diamond	1-2	1/50	*Changed from 1-2 to 2 (noted)	Uncut diamond	2 (noted)	-
Adamant scimitar	1	1/50	-	-	-	-
Clue scroll (medium)	1	1/100	-	-	-	-
Dark key	1	1/100	*Changed from 1/200 rate to 1/100	Dark key	1	1/100
			Tertiary drop! NEW!
-	-	-	*New	Strange fruit	1	1/5

​
Not a big change but there is no bank nearby and the run to the dungeon is long. So making the herb drops and gem drops noted and adding strange fruit to the loot table or as separate roll so you can get that with actual loot? So you could more run to the chest without having to walk. And then making some of the items you can get 1-2 always give 2. Also straight up changing the dark key drop rate from 1/200 to 1/100.
One more thing i would like to add as to the loot table and as a new item to the game, teleport to the crumbling tower, which is north of isle of souls where the dark chest is located.
Now next up: DARK KEYS
I feel like this item could be a drop all around isle of souls much like grubby key is in the forthos dungeon. So adding this to almost all the monsters that you can kill on isle of souls.
These are the proposed rates i'm thinking. (Just idea of rates, could be different all i really want is it to make more accessible from different sources around the isle).
​
Forgotten souls (NOT THE ONES INSIDE SOUL WARS) lvl 20 1/200
Moss giants lvl 42 1/150
Pyrefiends lvl 43 1/125
Baby blue dragons lvl 48 1/125
Pyrelords lvl 60 1/100
Lesser demons lvl 82 1/75
Fire giants lvl 86 1/75
Greater demons lvl 92 1/75
Blue dragons lvl 111 1/50
Iron dragons lvl 189 1/25
These monsters would drop it ONLY when killed on the ISLE OF SOULS.
Dark chest
​
Now this table has kinda weird loot which is something i kinda like, but maybe they could get little bit of buff. These are some changes i would like to see.. (Note: Rates are from wiki but they might be bit inaccurate because this chest isn't much used..)
​
​

Current loot table			Changes	Proposed table
Item	Quantity	Rarity		Item	Quantity	Rarity
Rune axe	1	1/41.59	-	-	-	-
Rune pickaxe	1	1/43.83	-	-	-	-
Rune kiteshield	1	1/63.87	-	-	-	-
Rune longsword	1	1/137.6	*Changed to dragon longsword	Dragon longsword	1	-
Dragon plateskirt	1	1/687.8	-	-	-	-
Dragon platelegs	1	1/687.8	-	-	-	-
Adamant arrow	200-400	1/15.36	*REMOVED	*REMOVED	*REMOVED	*REMOVED
Rune arrow	100-300	1/19.15	*Changed from 100-300 to 250-400	Rune arrow	250-400	-
Death rune	200-400	1/20.6	*Changed from 200-400 to 300-500	Death rune	300-500	-
Law rune	100-300	1/22.19	*Changed from 100-300 to 300-500	Law rune	300-500	-
Chaos rune	300-500	1/23.19	*Changed from 300-500 to 500-750	Chaos rune	500-750	-
Blood rune	100-200	1/24.04	*Changed from 100-200 to 200-300	Blood rune	200-300	-
Mind rune	400-600	1/24.64	*REMOVED	*REMOVED	*REMOVED	*REMOVED
Nature rune	150-350	1/24.91	*Changed from 150-350 to 300-500	Nature rune	300-500	-
Grimy dwarf weed	10-15	1/22.93	-	-	-	-
Grimy torstol	10-15	1/24.1	-	-	-	-
Grimy ranarr weed	10-15	1/25.12	-	-	-	-
Grimy snapdragon	10-15	1/25.84	-	-	-	-
Green dragon leather	5-10	1/27.94	*Changed from 5-10 to 15-20	Green dragon leather	15-20	-
Blue dragon leather	5-10	1/28.3	*Changed from 5-10 to 15-20	Blue dragon leather	15-20	-
Black dragon leather	5-10	1/29.32	*Changed from 5-10 to 15-20	Black dragon leather	15-20	-
Red dragon leather	5-10	1/31.49	*Changed from 5-10 to 15-20	Red dragon leather	15-20	-
Baby dragon bones	10-15	1/17.53	*REMOVED	*REMOVED	*REMOVED	*REMOVED
Dragon bones	10-15	1/28.57	*Changed from 10-15 to 25	Dragon bones	25	-
Coins	9600-29500	1/8.871	*REMOVED	*REMOVED	*REMOVED	*REMOVED
Dragonstone	1	1/55.89	*Changed from 1 to 2-4 (noted)	Dragonstone	2-4	-
Dark key	2	1/85.98	*REMOVED	*REMOVED	*REMOVED	*REMOVED
Shield left half	1	1/596.1	-	-	-	-

So not TOO big of a buff, i feel like making the dark keys themselves more accessible is already a buff itself so buffs to some amounts and removing few bad drops should make it a little better. I don't really know how accurate the rates are so i kinda don't want to touch that part. But maybe its fine as it is..
Now i wouldn't be opposed to it having some kind of unique drop or some other loot added to it but i'm not really sure what that unique or more items could be. Some ideas i was thinking was like a upgrade/cosmetic to the soul cape you unlock from soul wars, making it a dark soul cape or something like that.
I wouldn't mind the crumbling tower teles to be available from the chest or the forgotten souls or both too. Maybe it could be tertiary drop..
​
Now last thing that i was thinking that could be kinda fitting to the isle and give it a little more activity.
New mid level boss: located at the crumbling tower, entrance at the basement. Much like Scurrius this would be a mid level boss to teach more end game pvm mechanics but being less punishing ofc.
Now i have some mechanics and ideas for it but i feel like i would rather directly give those ideas to the jmods than to everyone in public (cant be spoiling the ideas) if the boss is something people would be interested in.
I feel like it would be fitting for it to be a ghost/soul (undead) boss seeing that we are on the isle of souls.
Unique drop could be item you use to make Ghostly battleaxe? (4t crush/slash?), Ghostly staff and Ghostly bow. New items that does more damage/accurate to undeads.
Also like grubby chest has the transmogs for the Sarachnis pet, maybe the dark chest could also have transmogs for the new boss if that were to come to the game.
SIDE NOTE: Could the fire remains at the isle of souls lobby made so you can cook food on it? or make it an actual fire you can cook on.. either way. (currently you need to run all the way to almost moss giants to be able light a fire to cook on).
Anyways that pretty much sums up some of my thoughts about the isle where I've spent.. way too much time already. Would be great to see it get some more love!
​

We need to remember that Zone has many residents, and not everyone goes there for the same reason.
"I was collecting bottles, one after another, and they led me here... Ha-ha! I'm kidding, man! Truth is, there was no place for me in that other world, it didn't want me. In the end, I came here... first to the Zone and then to Clear Sky. The guys here are alright, and I'm needed here. They come back after a mission, I pour them a drink, tell a few dirty jokes and my job is done - simple, but effective. By the way, they call me Cold around here."
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/DhqrJN.jpg
"The Zone enchanted me. I was just passing by, kind of like a tourist, and got hooked. The thing is, the people here are real, be they friend or foe. The danger, the feeling that death lurks behind every corner - that's what makes us city slickers feel alive! And I enjoy every minute of it." - Dialogue of Random Cordon Loner in Clear Sky
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/KC5fdN.jpg
"I listened to a bunch of fairytales about the Zone and was foolish enough to believe them. But, as I quickly learned, it's a lot different when you're on the inside. I turned out to be a softer cookie than I thought. Dying is easy here, and collecting artifacts is not. But what's really killing me is that there's not a peaceful spot in the whole damn Zone. Even when I fall asleep, half of me stays awake." - Another dialogue of Random Cordon Loner
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/n2PtFZ.jpg
"You mean what do I do in the Zone? I'm hiding from some nosy former pals of mine. Back on the outside they would go on and on with their questions and lectures on life... So we had an... altercation. I hope you're not here to start all that morality shit again, are you? No? Good, then just keep walking." - Dialogue of Random Garbage Bandit in Clear Sky
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/NtL572.jpg
"I was doing backstreet business back in the Soviet Union when I got caught on a major deal. I did my time like a man, made some good buddies and connections with the underworld crowd, and when I got out I started buying up goods from burglars. I got nicked again and did some more time, but when I got out the Soviet Union was dead and buried. I never managed to adjust to the changes - I was broke and living a shit life... but then the Zone appeared, and I bolted here right away. This place immediately reminded me of the good old days, so I became a trader without a second thought." - Dialogue of bandit trader Tooth
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/WaeYgA.jpg
"What do you mean, "someone like you" Sure, I didn't graduate from no damn academy but I've got the hands for this kind of work - I was the best specialist at my plant, with medals, commendations and all. I would celebrate that kinda stuff with my friends over some drinks until our boss reported us and we all got fired. That son of a bitch! That plant was real high-profile 'cause we were working for the defense industry. After that, I got a job as a technician at the local housing office. They always came to me if something happened 'cause I was the only pro around. Some people slipped me a little cash or poured me a good drink and things were sweet... until I had a little fight with a plumber over a bottle - it got a bit heated and I stabbed the bastard with a screwdriver. He lived, but I got a stretch in a penal colony, and by the time I got back my crib was empty - the wife left me... I got real depressed and got me a case of jimjams. I lost the house through pure stupidity and became homeless. That's when I made my way here. And you know what? They treat me right in this place 'cause I know what I'm doing. And I'm the same, sometimes I even accept a good bottle as payment for work... keep that in mind." - Dialogue of Limpid
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/SY2B8N.jpg
"I'm looking for adventure in the Zone, and I get plenty of that here in the Dark Valley. I have the opportunity to do that thanks to Freedom, and I don't care how pompous that may sound." - Dialogue of Random Dark Valley Freedomer
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/SQMzO3.jpg
Dialogue of Freedom barman Ganja, while not directly stating the exact reason why Ganja came to the Zone, does says that it was a real negative story:
"You're not asking the right question, bro. You should be asking how Ganja the barman, Ganja the hookah man, Ganja, the man who partied with all sorts of friends in all sorts of places, ended up in the Zone. But I ain't answering that, bro. That's a negative story and I'm a positive kind of guy. I found myself here. That's the way the cookie crumbles. I was on my own and I felt cosmic loneliness, bro. Yeah, man, it was real bad. But then I felt positive vibrations...coming from Freedom. I knew they were my kind of people. I had a choice, but my doubts were gone. I found my freedom - now I live a better life than most people in that crazy world outside the Zone. Here I have enough to drink, enough to smoke, I have the Zone and people who share their stories about it with me...Damn, this local weed is just pure suckage!"
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/YJwrv7.jpg
"Me, I'm from a small town. Finished high school, served in the army. Got out - no jobs, no use going to college... Make a long story short, I got through the boot camp and landed right here. Actually, I served at the Cordon at first. Once a colonel of ours decided he needed a rare artifact to heal him up. Didn't like the idea of hiring stalkers, so our squad got the "job." The map they gave us was thirty friggin' years old. Those bastards... Less than a few hours in half our guys were already gone from anomalies. Then the dogs, then the bloodsuckers. Before the day was done it was just sarge and myself. Thank God we had our medkits, so we managed to crawl over to Duty's base. My leg got all hacked up - I was lucky to keep it after all that. Anyway, Duty folks put us back on our feet and showed us the way back. They're real men who live a good, simple life, and I've made a lot of friends during my stay. Anyway, soon as service was over, I grabbed my things and came right back into the Zone. I found Duty's base and asked to join, and hey, they took me in." - Dialogue of Kolobok
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/rbzkaU.jpg
"I'm just your average Joe, no different from anyone else. I've always been a rolling stone though. When I was ten I took off for China to study Shaolin martial arts. They took us off the freightliner three days later, and my dad gave me a real good thrashing. When I got older I spent all my time travelling - hitchhiked across Europe, spent a winter with chukchas. Then the Zone emerged. At the time I was friends with one girl Leska - also a thrill-seeker, like me. Well, she thought we were friends, though I felt a little different... Anyway, one day I was looking for Leska and some friends told me she'd gone to the Zone. Right away I get my things, grab a pistol with some rubber bullets and head straight here. I made it thanks to all my travelling experience. I spent months searching for her, carrying her photo and showing it to everybody. Finally a stalker told me some international troops apprehended Leska with some pretty boy near the Zone's border. Gave the two a lecture and sent them home. So, I thought, God bless you, Leska, God bless. I didn't go back home then. And now I'm just kind of stuck to the Zone." - Dialogue of Orest
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/fum7AJ.jpg
"I've always been drawn to new territories. I mean, I came to the Zone because I got tired of monotonous routine on the outside, and in these parts there are always secrets to uncover. The other thing is the cash. You need food and ammo, but you can only get coin for loot. I'm also hoping someone finds a way of getting past the Scorcher, 'cause as soon as they do I'll be the first one to the center of the Zone. I've only got one sacred wish - for the Zone to disappear." - Dialogue of Random Army Warehouses Loner
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/pTsN2A.jpg
"I wish I knew something old about it. We're mercenaries, buddy. We go into the Zone to complete a specific mission, and rely on careful planning and outstanding preparation to achieve our objectives." - Dialogue of Hog's merc(s)
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/Z5bkBI.jpg
"Bes's my name. I came to these parts three years ago. Like many of the guys in the Zone I'm a fugitive, wanted for two murders and GBH. A few years ago a friend of mine got battered pretty bad - they had to literally stitch him back together at the hospital. So I paid the bastards who did it a little "visit". When the coppers showed up I had to shoot one of them and jump out of a third-floor window - I've been here since. I've done well in this place but the list of my crimes has got a little longer too. I try to fight the lawless just as I did on the outside. I train up rookies and teach them to survive in the Zone." - Dialogue of Bes
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/pchRZm.jpg
"Where do I begin... I guess it goes back to high school. I had a good buddy, a best friend, if you will. We hung out together, smoking, drinking and whatnot. Only he wanted more and more thrills. He got into drugs: some weed at first, then smach and then coke, when he started getting some coin. I told him, "You gotta get off this shit, Tolyan, before it's too late." But he didn't listen. He scored some bad shit one day and that was that. I found his dealers and got even for my buddy... Got my picture took and all hell broke loose - the slammer, the gang fights, the shiv in the belly... Got out, started a business, got busted again... When I got out again, I left all that shit behind and set my sights on the Zone. Spent a couple months toughing it out, then got promoted. So now I'm in charge here, upholding the local law." - Dialogue of Sultan
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/fL49Ce.jpg
"When I worked at the surgeon clinic, it was easy to cover up. There was always a surplus of donor blood to be had. But the Zone was different... I thought that this harsh environment would push my condition to the sidelines. But I was wrong. I experienced the most terrible explosion of all and just couldn't think of anything else. I decided to make the killings look like bloodsucker attacks. I usually picked targets that were already wounded." - Dialogue of Tremor
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/NzmA7n.jpg

What if we as a community could advocate for Sloth as a payment method at weed dispensaries around the world. And that, if one should choose to pay with Sloth, then a percentage would go to an wildlife organization which buy up lands, to save the Sloths❤️🦥 (and all other animals🦧🐆, insects🐛🦋 and plants🌼🌴) from deforestation🕊🌳
This would make Sloth coin a utility token which produce huge ongoing volume for both Slothana and Solana, and all who like to chill like a Sloth🔥💨 can easily support wildlife when buying their grass🍃 #SlothLife🌿🦥
Thank you for being an awsome community!💫
Maybe make a poll and pin it? This is of course something for the future, first we need CEX etc✨️

Catchy ass name…. Best meme coin network…tons of presale money….paper hands sold in spite down 70 percent…paper hands got back in with the slomo. The weeds have been weeded. Let’s grow this coin and enjoy the ride.

In the past month I have been finding so many dimes and pennies at my work. I manage a storage facility and my biggest property has about 9 acres of land. Every time I am outside cleaning, pulling weeds, etc I find coins it never fails. This doesn't happen to me at home or the grocery store only at work. Today a cardinal caught my eye and I watched it fly above the barbed wire on my fence until it reached a point where I saw a zip lock bag. I went to retrieve this bag and it had coins in it. I was also sweeping a unit and I swept up a liberty dollar. Is this all just a coincidence? Is it a sign? A message? Someone trying to communicate.
Please give me your thoughts. Thank you 😊

I'm not sure if the start of the game is meant to have a slow build or I am missing something.
I've started the game but I feel like I can't do much. My days consist of waiting for crops to eat and sell for very little money and harvesting the few forgeables I can and cleaning up weeds and stones. I can only craft one recipe.
The lantern quest hasn't become available and I cant find or buy an axe (too expensive for what i make selling weeds). I finally saved enough for a fishing rod so I'm hoping that helps with the food and coin situation a bit more. Till then I can't craft or mine or log. I finally got some quest direction from the with of the swamp.
Have I overlooked something? Or is this game just cozier and slower than I expected?
Love the graphics and animations though. I really want to like this game but it feels like I'm just walking around keeping myself from starving till bed time.

Is it fair to say that WN coin sellers have realized that selling coins on WN is detrimental to their profits. When I joined over a yr ago there where more coins sellers than the now not so famous wheel of fortune games or "juice lots" DSS, Hertels and so on sold nice raw and graded coins. Looks like the tides have shifted and wheel and bags games rein supreme. I totally get it it was only a matter of time those losses could be sustained. I often wondered in how they would remain profitable. With that said I wish WN would have a filter in which a user could fully weed out mystery games, currently the work around is if a seller has BIN they can remain in the auction/bin category. I'm a discount buyer and use Apmex and ebay to price guide my purchases. Can someone steer me to the FB marketplace or pages where coin sellers can make a profit by not taking on WN outrages 12% fees and the discounts go towards the coins?

Earth's orbit experiences an “Orbital Eccentricity”, 100,000 year cycle orbit and inclination variation, going from circular to elliptical, the hemispheres experience more or less sun or exposure to the sun for extended periods, causing ice ages. Scientists estimate we are near the minimum, a 6% change in solar energy. At peak, the earth experiences a change of 30%.
Modern Day Primates, in the wild and captivity, are able to communicate, near and far, using verbal and gesture components, even to other species. Have been observed using wood as tools, and in using medicinal plants to treat wounds.
44 million y a - Hominid ancestors acquire Herpes virus.
10 million y a - Primate ancestors develop genes to digest alcohol.
6 million years ago - Primate ancestors split from Chimpanzee/Bonobo line (15 million DNA mutations have occurred since then; each person born today has 100 mutations distinct to them, most don’t survive.)
5.3 m y a - Mediterranean Sea experiences the Messinian Salinity Crisis, for 600,000 years the Straight of Gibraltar closed off, causing the Mediterranean to shrink down to two inland seas with Italy and Greece separating them. Ends in the Zanclean Flood, a river of Atlantic sea water flows thru Gibraltar and fills the Mediterranean in 2 years.
5 m y a - Arabian-African continent reconnects with Asia. Land based Turtle species start going extinct.
4 - 3 m y a - Hominid ancestors acquire pubic lice from Gorillas (genetic evidence).
3.6 - 2.58 m y a - Considered the Neogene Period.
3.3 m y a - Stone tools found in Kenya and Ethiopia.
2.6 m y a - Mode One Stone Tools found in Ethiopia, would subsequently spread. Flourished to 1.7 million y a in southern and eastern Africa. Paleolithic (Old Stone Age) Era (2.6 m y a till end of last Ice Age, 11,000 y a). Subdivided into the Early- or Lower Paleolithic (c. 2,6 million years ago - c. 250,000 years ago); the Middle Paleolithic (c. 250,000 years ago - c. 30,000 years ago); and the Late- or Upper Paleolithic (c. 50,000/40,000 - c. 10,000 years ago)
2.58 million - 11,700 years ago - Considered the start of the Quaternary Period, and covers the Pleistocene.
2.4 – 1.4 m y a – Homo Habilis (4.5-3.5 feet tall).
2 m years ago - Earliest Hominids start eating meat.
1.9 – 1.8 m y a – Homo Rudolfensis.
1.89 m y a to 110,000 y a - Homo Erectus (first to leave Africa and spread across Asia).
1.8 m years ago - Mode One Stone Tools found on Java.
1.7 m years ago - Mode Two Stone Tools (slicing, hand-axe/butchering, evidence of drilling tools) appear in Kenya and southern Africa.
1.6 m years ago - Mode One Stone Tools found in northern China.
1.6 - 1.5 m y a - Africa, Turkana Boy dies, likely from a tooth cavity infection. He was either 8 or 11-12 years old and 61 inches tall. Brain 880 ccm.
1.5 m y a - Kenya, possible start of Hominids using fire to cook food. (increase in caloric intake, which would lead to evolution; however, Paranthropus Boisei is the local species, brain 500-550 ccm, 54 inches tall)
1 million years ago - Likely split between ancestor of Homo Sapiens and proto-Neanderthal-Denisovan species. (Mitochondrial DNA evidence.) South Africa, evidence of fire use for cooking.
1 m - 700,000 y a - Java, Java Man dies, brain 900 ccm. 5' 8" tall.
900,000 y a – Possible earliest use of boats.
820,000 - 580,000 y a - Durum Wheat develops out of natural hybridization with Einkorn Wheat (genetic analysis).
800,000? y a - Low world temperatures recorded. Height of Ice Age?
790,000 y a - Levant, oldest Fire hearths found. (Homo Heidelbergensis, 1,250 ccm brain, 69 in tall)
740,000? y a - Height of Ice Age?
7-200,000 y a – Homo Heidelbergensis (East Africa and Europe, likely first to hunt large animals with spears)
640,000? y a - Height of Ice Age.
550,000? y a - Height of Ice Age?
540,000 - 430,000 y a - Art: Sea shell formed into decoration by Homo Erectus. (Could indicate when sea shells began to be used as whistles and horns.)
530,000? y a - Interglacial Peak (between Ice Ages, high CO2 content in the atmosphere, 524-474,000).
500,000 y a - South Africa, evidence of Spears. Genetic evidence of Neanderthal spread from Europe to Caspian Sea, Denisovans occupied land from Caspian to the east.
450,000 y a - Earliest physical evidence of Neanderthal.
450,000 y a - Global temperatures had dropped, stayed that way for thousands of years.
430,000 - 230,000 y a - Durum Wheat cross-breeds with wild Goat Grass (genetic analysis).
400,000 y a - Interglacial Peak (between Ice Ages, 424-374,000).
400,000 y a - Germany, oldest Spears found. France (Terra Amata), possible evidence of manmade shelter using prepared wood.
360,000? y a - Height of Ice Age.
335-236,000 y a – Homo Naledi (South Africa, 4’9”)
310,000 y a - Interglacial Peak (between Ice Ages, 337-300,000).
300,000 y a – Mode Three Stone Tools (smaller knife-like, scrapers, developed in Europe by Neanderthals)
300,000-200,000 y a – Africa, Origin of Male Y-Chromosome that all current males are descended from. (40% of males do not reproduce.)
270,000? y a - Height of Ice Age.
240,000 y a - Interglacial Peak (between Ice Ages, 242–230,000).
200,000 y a - France, evidence of Neanderthals fishing. Africa, "Mitochondrial Eve," source of all Human Haplo-groups that everyone is descended from, existed at this time.
194,000-135,000 y a - Penultimate Glacial Period.
190,000 y a - Early physical evidence of Denisovans. (At least three interbreeding events would occur with Homo Sapiens. EPAS1 gene, hemoglobin concentration, Tibetan plateau.)
190,000-50,000 y a - Flores Island, evidence of tool use by the Human Hobbit.
170,000 - 80,000 y a - Body Lice evolve (genetic evidence, feed on human skin, live in clothing; evidence of clothing)
164,000 y a – South Africa, heat treating Silcrete Stone to enhance stone tool production.
140,000 y a - Homo Sapiens found in Europe.
130,000 y a - Evidence of humans in North America. Crete, earliest human settlements found on the island. Art: Neanderthal necklace made of eagle talons. Croatia: Neanderthal teeth show possible dental work.
125,000 y a - Interglacial Peak (between Ice Ages, 130-115,000). Sea levels 4-6 meters (18 feet) higher then today.
110,000-15,000 y a - Last Glacial Period. Grey Wolves would migrate from North America back to Asia prior to the maximum.
100,000-60,000 y a - Flores Island, bone fossil evidence of the Human Hobbit.
100,000 y a - Oldest example of proper human burial. South Africa, Pigment (paint) Creation Kit found. (would cover bodies in mud/clay and then spray the paint over the bodies, sun screen-protection from insects)
90,000 y a – Harpoons.
86,000-37,000 y a – Neanderthal and Homo Sapiens begin interbreeding, based on genetic evidence found so far.
75,000 years ago - Likely rise of Hunter Genotype in Homo Sapiens.
75,000 y a - Art: Drilled snail shells found in South African cave.
73,000 y a - South Africa (Blombos Cave), evidence of Red Ochre art on pieces of stone, stone with deliberate lines cut into it possibly representing count marks.
72,000 y a - South Africa, Beads found in cave.
70,000 y a - Mitochondrial DNA suggests this is when the Haplo-group of early humans migrated out of Africa to populate the rest of the world.
70-60,000 y a - Earliest evidence of bone and stone arrowheads (for Spear Throwers), found in South Africa. 64,000?
70,000 - 35,000 BCE - Neanderthal burials in Europe and Middle East.
68-16,000 y a – Smallpox evolves from an African Rodent Virus.
67,000 BCE - France, burial shows skulls with Trepanation (cutting holes to relieve brain pressure), earliest example of surgery.
65,000 y a - First humans settle Australia.
64,000 y a - Spain, oldest evidence found of Cave Art (Neanderthal hand).
61,000 y a - South Africa, possible evidence of a Sewing Needle.
60,000? y a - Height of Ice Age?
60,000 y a - Evidence of man/Neanderthal using herbal medicine.
55,000 - 40,000 y a - Italy, evidence of Neanderthal using Pine Tree Resin and Beeswax for hafting tools, in cave. (Beeswax can be used in making Candles.)
52,000 y a - Last evidence of Denisovans.
52,000 – 41,000 y a – Archaeological find of “Bast” tree fiber twisted into primitive cordage, possibly as handle for a Stone Tool. (meaning they had access to Clothing, Nets, Cord for Fishing or Hafting tools, rope; thinking processes of Counting, Sets, Patterns, and possibly abstract thinking)
50,000 - 10,000 y a - Mode Four Stone Tools (long blades).
50,000 y a - Australia, last evidence of megafauna. Siberia, needle made from bone found in Denisovan cave. Genetic evidence of Neanderthal spreading to western edge of China.
50,000 years ago - End point of development of Gatherer Genotype (can survive famine), Teacher Genotype (can handle new and different environments, analytical).
45,000 y a - Evidence of Neanderthal and Homo Sapien interbreeding. (Fossil found, DNA tested.) (France, to create stone tools required precision, “Soft Hammers” were likely used.)
44,000 y a - Evidence of art found in Indonesia.
44,000-40,000 y a - Europe experiences cold and dry weather, displacing populations.
43-42,000 y a - Germany, oldest musical instruments (flutes) found.
42,000 y a - Australia, skeleton of man suggests Atlatl use, pre-dating earliest evidence; earliest example of cremation found. Spain, small amounts of Natural Gold found in a cave.
40,000 y a - (Mankind is at the “Forager” level.) Last evidence of Neanderthal. (Inheritance of "STAT2" gene, immune response. HYAL2 gene, helps skin recover from sunburns.) China, test on body found that ate a lot of fresh water fish. Possible example of oldest petroglyphs. Beads found in Lebanon.
40,000 - 26,000 y a - Studying toe bones, showed they became smaller and weaker, indicating shoes were worn. Prior to this, shoes were likely bags wrapped around feet to protect from cold.
38,000 BC - First appearance of Mode Five Ground Stone tools on Japan. (rock was quarried; thin slivers of flint stone, attached to hafts, man is learning the use of a "handle" for tools and "leverage", create Adzes, Celts, and Axes; grinding helps to penetrate trees and was likely discovered when grinding plant matter; found buried with owners; were traded) Lasted till 14,000 BC. (Would not become popular elsewhere until 10,000 BC?) Germany: Clay Figurine featuring human with lion like appearance, thought to be earliest representation of a Deity.
35,000 BCE - Europe, earliest examples of "Venus figurines" found buried in graves (some showing they were deliberately broken or stabbed repeatedly); would later spread to rest of Eurasia. Early examples of skulls and long bones showing red ochre, indicating possible relic worship.
35,000 y a - Germany, flute made from a vulture bone found.
30,000 BCE – Solomon Islands, first humans settle (60 km sea voyage).
31,000 - 27,000 y a - Evidence of Pit Fire (Earthernware) Pottery developing.
30,000-20,000 years ago - Explorer genotype (Ice Age refugees, idiosyncratic, asymmetrical, contrarian mentality)
30,000 y a - Evidence of starch residue on rocks, indicating where plant matter was pounded and ground. (Would likely be the pre-cursor of developing bread from roots of cattails and ferns. Quern Grinding Stones would spread and gain popularity.) Georgia, Flax used as a textile (harvested, dyed, and knotted) found in Dzudzuana Cave. Fertile Crescent, Einkorn wheat harvested in it's wild form. Evidence of man using the Atlatl. Poland: Boomerang carved from mammoth tusk found. France, Lunar Calendar. Likely when Bolas (stone weight(s) and length of cord) began to be used.
28,000 y a - Europe, oldest evidence of rope.
25,000 - 15,000 BCE - Blood Type A develops in the Fertile Crescent. (able to survive Plague, Cholera, Smallpox)
27,000 y a - Australia, oldest example of petroglyphs found. Czech Republic, earliest example of "Weaving" of material together to create baskets and basic cloth. (Leads to counting and simple math, organizing.)
26,000-13,300 y a - Considered "Glacial Maximum", ice sheets extend to the 45th parallel north. (26,500 considered to be maximum glacial reach.)
23,000 - 12,000 y a – Europe, Perforated Batons found, made of antler, assumed to be a form of Atlatl that uses a leather strap or string to wrap around the spear and give it a slight spin, arrow or spear thrower (similar to Swiss Arrow). Right and left handed throwers find preference. Most carved with Horses, have one or two holes (one had 8 holes).
23,000 y a - Israel, Ohalo archaeological site, hunter-gatherer society (6 brushwood shelters, 132 stone tools some attached to hafts, stone Sickles, dwellings showed flint tools were made at entrance, cooking at other end, grind stone showed sand and cobbles to place and had U-shape of seeds around it) that grew/harvested Barley, Millet, Bromus (grass in same tax tribe as wheat/barley/rye, can be used for fermenting beverages, can be eaten by humans and animals), Rubus (same family as Rose plants, similar to blackberries), and various fruits (seeds from 13 different species), earliest evidence for “Bedding” material.
22,000 – 17,000 y a – France, Solutrean inhabitants make use of Antler.
21,000-17,000 y a - France, Atlatl's found in caves.
20,000 y a - Height of the Ice Age, sea levels 120 meters (360 feet) lower. Mode Five Stone Tools (microliths glued to handles, Fertile Crescent). Earliest example of a building/house found. Ukraine, Bullroarer (wood on rope that is swung around to create sound over long distance) found. Iraq-Iran, Zarzian Culture, had domesticated Dogs.
19,050? - 13,050 y a - Oldest Dryas Period, stadial, abrupt cooling period. Sea levels rose 10-15 m in 500 years.
17,000 BCE - Mesopotamia, Wild Emmer Wheat harvested.
18,000 - 17,500 y a - Siberia, earliest example of a domesticated dog found frozen. Germany, Bow and Arrows found. Early evidence of Darts used.
18,000 y a - Japan, oldest pottery discovered.
15,100 - 14,000 y a - Morocco, earliest example of a cemetery.
15,000 y a – Mode Five Stone Tools reach Europe. Southern France, cave art depicting possible Musical Bow, Nose Flute; "The Sorcerer," a figure showing human and many animal qualities (bison), made out of Clay.
15,000 – 10,000 y a – France, Stone Oil Lamps.
14,500 y a - Oldest example of bread making, Jordan desert.
14,160 - 13,820 y a - Archaeological find: infected tooth partially cleaned out with flint tools.
14,600 - 13,600 y a - "Melt Water Pulse," sea levels rose 16-24 m.
14,000? y a - Older Dryas Period, around 200 year cooling period.
13,500 - 8,200 y a - China, wild Rice domestication event occurs.
15-10,000 BCE - Himalayas, development of Blood Type B.
11,050 BCE - Syria, attempts at domesticating Rye.
13,000 y a - Greece, evidence of lentils found. Earliest evidence of Amber used in jewelry. Israel, archaeological evidence of beer like gruel for ceremonial purposes found at Haifa. Likely beginning of Slavery.
13,000 - 12,700 y a - Fertile Crescent, archaeological evidence of man corralling and using pigs.
12,900 - 11,700 y a - The Younger Dryas Period, when temperatures went cold instead of warming from the Last Glacial Maximum.
10,000 BCE - Jericho, considered mankind's first town, is established. Buildings of clay and straw, dead buried under homes. (Would reach 70 dwellings by 94,000 BCE.) Chickpeas domesticated. Earliest evidence of the Bottle Gourd being domesticated and used (Africa and Asia variety). Azerbaijan (Caspian Sea), petroglyphs of reed boats. Starting point of Ocarina type flutes. Cyprus, humans arrive. Germany, Jet artifact (Botfly larvae, which can be eaten). Curved Stone Oil Lamps.
11,700 y a - Considered the beginning of the Holocene.
9600 BCE - Southern Levant, earliest use of wild Emmer Wheat.
11,500 - 11,000 y a - "Melt Water Pulse," sea levels rose 28 m.
11,400 y a - Cypress, archaeological evidence of pigs (indicating they had been domesticated and brought from the mainland).
9400 - 9200 BCE - Jordan Valley, Fig trees found, indicating earliest agriculture since these trees could not reproduce.
9130 - 7370 BCE - SE Turkey, Gobekli Tepe, oldest known worship location.
9000 BCE - Syria, oldest (Saddle) Quern found. Mesopotamia, Copper first used. Bartering of Cattle and agricultural products likely occurring at this time.
9000 - 3300 BCE - Neolithic Era, roughly. Time period of when man has begun herding, before using bronze.
11,000 - 9,000 y a - Mesopotamia, domestication of Sheep; Rammed Earth construction technique developed. Iran, Domestication of Goat (focused on management of the animal, varieties would come later).
11,000-4,000 years ago - Warrior genotype (farmers, soldiers, inventors); Nomad genotype (life upon a horse, can handle different environments, good immune system)
11 or 10,000 y a - Last Ice Age ends.
8800 BCE - Emmer Wheat spreads beyond the Levant.
8700 BCE - Iraq, Copper pendant.
8500 BCE - Domestication of Barley. Domestication of peas occurs around this time. Turkey, Beer production found at Gobekli Tepe. Domestication of Cattle from the Aurochs (two separate populations, one in Mesopotamia [pop. 80], the other Pakistan). (Rendering cattle bones into Tallow allows for the creation of Candles. Beeswax also used.) Oregon, oldest pair of shoes found made from bark twine. Oats possibly start to be harvested, crop mirrors wheat (is like a weed).
8400 BCE – Cyprus, earliest dug Water Well (26 ft).
10,300 - 8,700 y a - China, Millet harvested.
10,200 - 9,500 y a - Emmer Wheat domesticated(?).
10,000 - 7,000 y a - Archaeological evidence of boats.
8000 BCE (10,000 years ago) – Genetic evidence of breeding Pigeons. Palestine, archaeological evidence of pastoralism. Pre-Pottery Neolithic people in the Fertile Crescent form perfectly smooth stone vases. Iran, Goat domestication. Believed to be when primitive dairy-cheese making began. Flax cultivation. China, Quern Grinding Stones. England, Antler used in headdress costume.
9,500 y a - Cyprus, earliest evidence of cat domestication. SE Anatolia, cold-working, annealing, smelting, lost wax casting of Copper.
7570 BCE – Indus Valley, Lapis Lazuli artifacts.
7500 - 5700 BCE - Anatolia, Catal Hoyuk develops as a spiritual center, found many clay figurines and impressions (feminine, phallic, hunting).
7400 BCE - A monolith ends up submerged in the Straight of Sicily.
7176 B.C. – Earth hit by one of the most massive Solar Storms from the sun ever recorded (visible at night with the magnetic field interaction).
7000 BCE - Archaeological evidence for pastoralism in Africa. China: evidence of mead (honey, rice, water fermented) in pottery; evidence of musical instruments. India, first archaeological evidence of Dance (cave art); evidence of dentistry. Armenian Highlands, art depictions of Cymbals. Durum Wheat made thru artificial selection in Europe and Near East. Greece, earliest evidence of grain silos. Turkey, Catal Hoyuk, art depiction of a Slinger. Afghanistan, Lapis Lazuli mined and traded to Indus and Mesopotamia societies. Europe, Cave Wall art of Honey Collecting.
7000 - 6600 BCE - China, domestication of Soy beans.
7000 - 6000 BCE - Turkey, domestication of Bitter Vetch. (Too bitter for human consumption without being boiled several times, has been found to be great for cattle feed.)
6500-3800 BCE - Ubaid Period (Mesopotamian citystates rise, evidence of specialized workers, evidence of taxation)
6500 BCE - Turkey, evidence of lead smelting at Catal Hoyuk. (Wrapping the dead in textiles, too.) China, archaeological evidence of Silk. Kosovo, oldest Ocarina found in Europe.
8,200 - 7,600 y a - Sea levels rise rapidly. Linked to North American great fresh water lake (Agassiz, Ojibway) sudden draining into Atlantic Ocean. 8,400 y a?
6050 BCE - Moldova, evidence of man extracting salt from a natural spring.
8,000 y a - Western Europe, white skin first appears. Iran: earliest evidence of irrigation; man starts choosing sheep for their wooliness, not just meat and skin (2-3,000 years later, would start wearing wool). Georgia, earliest evidence of wine. Spain, cave painting shows people collecting honey from a wild hive, using a container to hold. China, Buckwheat cultivated (near Tibetan plateau), possible first example of Influenza. Earliest evidence of the Ard Plow used (castrating bulls to train 4 years to become Draft Oxen, also means they can be used to haul logs thru and from forests). Mediterranean, Broad (Fava) Beans, Broccoli. Portugal: Almendres Cromlech, begins, aligned to equinox and solstice, occupied for 2,000 years, would become largest complex in Iberian peninsula, equal to other large complexes in Europe. Anatolia: Obsidian polished into mirrors. Spelt Wheat appears. First Stone hafted Axes. Earliest evidence of “Cock Fighting” game fowl. (Iraq, Kiln.)
6000 - 3500 BC - Mesopotamia (Sumer), Poppy domesticated.
7,8-5,000 y a - SE Turkey, Einkorn Wheat grown and domesticated.
5600 BCE - Evidence of The Black Sea Flood, turning the fresh water lake into a salt water sea, rose shorelines and displaced populations (source of flood myths in religions).
7500 y a - Earth experiences a cold climate period? Lasts for 500 or more years.
7500 y a - Earliest example of chickpeas being used. Poland, archaeological evidence of cheese making. Ukraine, Romania, earliest examples of traps used for hunting. Pakistan, evidence of Cotton found in copper beads. Egypt, earliest Combs found (placing a leaf in the teeth can create a primitive sound instrument).
5500-5000 BCE - Serbia, Copper Smelting.
5200 - 4700 BCE - Iran, earliest evidence of a wheel, for pottery, made of stone or clay.
7,000 y a - Earliest example of Dolmen, single chamber tomb, consists of two stones supporting another on top (table design), found in western Europe, would spread and be common 4000 - 3000 BCE in Europe. Iranian plateau, evidence of Bronze made with naturally occurring arsenic. Tin would replace as the major ingredient (and releasing non-toxic vapors) in the late 3000 BCE period. Iran, evidence of wine found, using sealed containers. China, Hemp domestication (smoking was likely cause for spread, Iron Age would use for production); Rammed Earth construction technique, Silkworm domestication begins. Egypt, Badarian culture starts farming, used boomerangs. Roundels, circular enclosure often with entrances aligned to solstice, would be constructed in Central Europe (Germany, 120-150 altogether). Siberia, oldest carpet found (likely a funeral gift, from Armenia, featured griffons). Mesopotamia: first use of Stamp Seals for government purposes; Rotary Quern milling stones are introduced. Armenia: possible origin of Apricots. Lake Zurich, cultivation of Pear. Indus Valley Civilization, using Bitumen aka Asphalt for waterproofing (a basket), adhesive. Bulgaria, Turquoise beads.
6950 - 6440 y a - Papua New Guinea, cultivation of Taro and Yam.
4800 BCE - Egypt, early evidence of peas being grown. Cairn of Barnenez, Brittany, England, begins (burial monument and later bronze age use, considered one of the oldest and largest man made structures).
4700 - 4200 BCE - The town of Solnitstata, considered the oldest known settlement in Europe. Built around a salt deposit.
6,500 y a - Croatia, earliest example of an oven found. Slovenia, dental filling made with beeswax. Indus Valley, irrigation. Wine production reaches Greece. Carnac Stones, Brittany, France; would become large complex of standing stones, menhirs, domens, tumuli (burial mounds, with passage tombs), large rectangle formed by stone. Americas: various tribes domesticated “chili peppers.” Bulgaria, Carnelian beads. Manufactured Red Pottery Oil Lamps.
4500-4000 BCE - China, Investment Casting develops.
4200 - 4000 BCE - Mesopotamia develops true, easy to spin pottery wheels.
6,000 y a - Earth experiences a cold climate period? (Starting maybe 500 years earlier and ending 500 years later.)
4000 BCE - (Mankind has achieved “Farmer status.”) (Thought to be when Cattle were turned into Oxen for Draft Animal purposes.) Egyptians start building big Brick structures; manufacturing Papyrus; Gold artifacts; (domesticated Donkeys?). Earliest examples of Kilns. NE Italy, archaeological find of Appleseeds. Sicily, evidence of wine found. Ukraine, Kazakhstan, Horse domestication begins (they became small and varied in size as compared to their wild ancestors). “Pontic Language Explosion”. [People from north of the Caspian and Black Seas migrated around Eurasia, ancestor of western languages. (shared origins with: milk, horses, sheep, cattle, pigs, goats, grain, copper, carts, yoke, weaving, mead; patrilineal clans)]. Earliest examples of Viticulture (wine making). Levant, earliest examples of harvesting Olives; start using grain Silos. Art: Earliest depiction of Shoes, Sandals. China: example of a Loom for Silk production; Ramie (similar to flax, requires chemical processing, not as popular, believed to be used for Egyptian mummy wraps). Persia (Iran), Mung Bean domestication?, Chang (precursor to Harp) found on artwork, made with sheep guts. Mesopotamia: Stamp Seals come into use; Mirrors made of Copper; 30-40% of animal bones in settlements were pork (understood to be a way of removing trash from community, easy to feed and raise many); Uruk clay tablet describes two temples owning a herd of 95 pigs to be rendered into soap to clean linen; clay pipes for sewage. Europe, farming reaches northern regions. Anatolia, Silver production.
4000 - 1000 BCE - Ethiopia, Teff is discovered (can feed people and livestock, building material).
3800 - 3500 BCE - Czech Republic, possible evidence of earliest plowed fields.
5,700 y a - Lolland Island, a blue eyed, dark haired, dark skin woman spits out some Birch Bark gum; oldest complete human genome extracted; had Mononucleosis ("kissing disease"). Possible archeological evidence of pit traps used for migrating animal hunting.
3630 BCE - Oldest example of silk fabric found.
3600 BCE – Pork bones in settlements (Levant, Mesopotamia) dropped to 16-30% of total livestock.
5,500 - 4,700 y a - Georgia, tomb found had honey remains on pottery. (This culture could identify Linden, Berry, and Meadow-Flower varieties.)
3500 BCE - City of Uruk: (Mesopotamia) begins outward expansion and influence, later first example of organized warfare (would influence Egyptians to start building pyramids); "Cylinder Seals," a type of noble seal, that can be rolled unto wet clay (would be popular until 1000 BCE). Iraq, Kish Tablet, considered to represent the early transition from pictographic to cuneiform. Mesopotamia, earliest Harps and Lyres found; Gold artifacts. Modern humans settle the western coast of Europe, hunter-gatherers. Egyptians show Cat domestication; Gold Smelting; used a vertical Gnomon as a primitive Sundial? Iran, Beer made from Barley. Armenia, earliest Leather Shoe found. China, Pottery in shape of silkworm indicates earliest example of Sericulture (silk worm production).
3500 - 3350 BCE – Mesopotamia, earliest evidence of wheeled vehicles. Indus Valley civilization uses Stamp Seals with a type of script.
3400 BCE (5,400 years ago) - First metal casting. France, Cow skull showing Trepanation found.
5,400 -5,100 y a - Itzi the Iceman dies in the mountains of Northern Italy. Had a copper axe. Earliest evidence of tattoos. Shoes made from two types of animal skin (bear and deer). Arsenic residue in his hair.
3300 BCE - Egypt, tomb paintings show people Dancing. Indus Valley, develop Sanitation.
3200 BCE - Examples of using symbols to represent real life objects (would go to form written language). Ireland, construction begins on Newgrange, largest passage tomb in Europe, aligned to winter solstice. Egypt, Bead made of Meteoric Iron found.
3100 - 2900 BCE - Jemdet Nasr period (following fall of Uruk) would be known as establishing Cuneiform as a proper language.
3100 BCE - Upper and Lower Egypt unified. Mesopotamia, likely evidence of the earliest Lute type device.
3000 BCE - Onset of Bronze. Mesopotamia, Irrigation; Glass Beads appear (possible side effect of making metal); possible earliest Iron working (required higher temperatures), cuneiform mention of Pigeons. Sumer, Medical text found on tablet, believed oldest ever found. Egypt, Hieroglyphs of Pigeons and use of Homing Pigeons for message delivery, first record of a Doctor named, Imhotep; Antimony harvested from rock and made into eye makeup; earliest evidence of domestic Donkeys in the south. Egyptian Mummies show evidence of Smallpox (deathrate 30% especially among babies, can leave people blind). Dromedary Camels likely domesticated in Somalia at this time. (Camel hair can be harvested for shelter and clothing, outer guard hairs make for water proof coats. Camel milk readily turns into yogurt. To turn into butter requires a clarifying agent and extended process.) Chicken reaches Europe from Asia. England, earliest Stone Circles found. Slovakia, Romania, earliest chainmail found. Sheep chosen for wooly coat, not long hair. China, Clay Bells found. India, River Buffalo domesticated (water buffalo); Jute grown for fiber (burlap). Northern Iran, earliest examples of Trumpets. SE Asia, earliest records of Radish. Pakistan, Terracota female figurines.
2800 BCE - Solid evidence of plowed fields. China, Copper smelting discovered. Babylon, evidence of manufacture of soap like substance.
2700 BCE - Chinese treatise on health. 40 kinds identified.
2650 BCE - Egypt, dental work found.
2630-10 BCE - Egypt, Pyramid of Djoser constructed by Imhotep, considered first.
2600 BCE – Egypt, domestication of Honey Bee complete.
2600 - 1900 BCE - Indus Valley, Stoneware Pottery (meaning fired at 1000 degrees Celsius), would become a major industry; (Ivory?).
2580-50 BCE – Egypt, creates first true Ocean Dock for sea trading vessels (with Indus Valley).
2560 BCE - Great Pyramid of Giza completed.
2500 BCE - Evidence of The Amber Road, trade route from the Baltic Sea to Mediterranean Sea. E Iran, Bactrian Camels domesticated. Iraq, "Lyres of Ur," considered world's oldest stringed instruments. Peru, oldest Sling ever found. Egypt, earliest depiction of a Khopesh (sword). Sumerian Clay Tablet with instructions for manufacturing soap (heating mixture of oil and wood ash, earliest record chemical reaction, used for washing woolen clothing). China, axes with Corundum (precious stone). Harappan Culture of Indus Valley, chicken used for Cock Fighting, not food.
2500 - 2000 BCE - Mali, domestication of Pearl Millet. Turkey, Meteoric Iron dagger.
2400 BCE - Sumer, description of Prostitution and a Brothel-Temple to Fertility Goddess.
2300 BCE - Mesopotamia, Urukagina of Lagash, considered the earliest Law Code. (Widows and orphans exempt from taxes, state pays for funeral expenses, the rich must pay in silver and cannot force the poor against will, checked power of priests, protect from usury, abolished polyandry). Iran, Quince (fruit). China, oldest Gnomon (painted stick that casts a shadow for sundial purpose).
2200 BCE - China, first known tax, using salt. Iraq, tablet reads “22 jars of Pig Fat” (each jar 18 liters of Lard, 396 liters total, require 45 adult pigs; likely used to make soap to clean wool of sheep before turning them into textiles)
2200-2000 BCE - Turkey, Iron Smelting.
2100 - 2050 BCE - City of Ur: Earliest written Code of Law discovered. References Butter. (Fines for bodily harm, references murder, robbery, adultery, rape. Two classes of people: free and slave.)
4000 - 3000 y a - Mesopotamia, earliest Scissors (shear, spring type). India, Mung Bean domesticated.
2000 BCE - Murals show horses pulling chariots. Horses become common in western Europe. England, Great Orme Mine started, would become largest copper mine in region (most productive between 1700 - 1400 BCE), used bone and stone tools. China, Bells made out of metal (Bellfounding); domestication of the Swamp Buffalo (water buffalo). Ghana, earliest evidence of Cowpea (black eyed pea). India, Canola/Rapeseed; Diamonds being used to drill beads. Egypt, Lupin Beans. Greece, Kale grown.
1900 BCE – Homing Pigeons used for warfare.
1800 BCE - Egypt, medical text on gynecological issues; Safflower for pigment. India, Iron working.
1754 BCE - Code of Hammurabi (recognized Prostitution and gave women protection and inheritance; theorized that a fertility goddess had a temple that offered sex workers).
1700 - 1200 BCE - (Late Bronze Age) 8 societies in Middle East: Aegean, Egyptian, Hittite, Canaanite, Cypriot, Mitanni, Assyrian, Babylonian. Considered a "globalized world system." Next time this would occur is today.
1700 BCE – Mesopotamia: The "Mari Letters" reference Minoan society, King Hammurabi; clay tablets list Trigonometry Tables and Applied Geometry (for land ownership, speculated to aid in construction).
1628 BCE - Island of Thera/Santorini experiences huge volcanic eruption, possibly causing a tsunami thru eastern Mediterranean.
1600-1500 BCE - Greece, Helmet formed of boar tusks found.
1600 BCE – Levant, Mesopotamia, Pork bones rarely found in settlements (banned from temples in Anatolia, Mesopotamia, Egypt). (Found amongst the poor classes, difficult to tax since it did not produce wool or milk or could plow a field.)
1550 BCE – Papyrus Ebers, Egyptian medical text, mentions Chlamydia.
1500 BCE - Modern Trumpet design found in eastern Mediterranean. India, Pigeon Pea domesticated. Egypt, Mercury found in tombs; archaeologists find earliest Sundials; Emerald mines. China, Water Clocks.
1400 BCE - Syria, Hurrian Songs, cuneiform music tablet in Ugarit. Greece, oldest body armor found, made of bronze, Dendra Panoply (not actually worn, more of a showpiece, but clear representation of body armor for battle). China, Meteoric Iron axeheads. Art representation of Scale Mail in Egypt. Art: representation of Shields.
1350 BCE - Turkey, Hittites chronicle Egyptian prisoners of war bringing "the plague.”
1300 BCE - Uluburun Shipwreck, off coast of Turkey, had 300 sixty pound copper ingots (10 tons), 1 ton of tin, and tin objects and ingots of colored glass (blue, rose, brown). From Cypress/Minoa.
1300? - 900? BCE - Eastern Mediterranean experiences a 300? year drought. (Could also be: Cypress 1200- 850. Syria 1250-1187. Galilee 1250-1100)
1279 BCE - Battle of Qadesh (Egypt vs Hittites).
1200 BCE (3,200 years ago) - Onset of Iron smelting. Earliest Camel saddles appear. Last appearance of Megaliths. India, earliest evidence of Firewalking.
1200 BCE - Eastern Mediterranean civilization collapse. Drought in Greece. Earthquake series.
1188-1177 BCE - Egypt suffers invasions from "The Sea People."
1185 BCE - Syria, Ugarit Letter, Famine.
1140? BCE - Ramses 6th, mummy found to have Smallpox. No record of people dying from Smallpox.
1100 BCE - Phoenicians establish nation. Europe, Iron Age.
1100? BCE - Earth experiences a cold temperature period?
1100-750 BCE - Egypt, Iron Smelting.
1070 BCE - Egyptian mummy found with Silk in hair, earliest evidence of Silk Road.
1000 BCE - Early Cuneiform script (late stages, still pictograph in nature). Bactria, Barbat (primitive lute). Egypt, Kenaf is grown for fibers, leaves can be eaten by animals and humans (similar to Jute and Hemp; rope, rough fabric, sails). Mediterranean, Cabbage domesticated. China, Iron Age. Sport: racing Homing Pigeons.
930 BCE - Camel bones found in Arabian peninsula. Jordan, earliest Bloomery for Iron working found.
800 - 600 BCE - Ethiopia, Sorghum Wheat begins to be harvested.
800 BCE - Considered the beginning of Ancient Greece, after the Mycenae Civilization. China, Bloomeries used.
700-500 BCE - The Illiad orally composed. India, Diamond mining starts.
708 BCE – Greece, Olympics, Discus Throw.
700 BCE - Turkey, first Coins in Lydia. Assyria, first equipment recognized as a Saddle for a Horse.
660 BCE – Massive Solar Storm hits Earth.
600 BCE - Earliest example of a Steel Sword.
600-400 BCE - Ancient Greece rise of scientific inquiry and philosophy
550 BCE - The Illiad written down.
540 BCE – Sri Lanka, earliest record of Pearls.
500 BCE - Camels used in warfare. Persians use kettle drums for military maneuvers, frighten enemies. Greece, Grape Syrup, early form of sweetener and preservative; earliest written mention of what could be Influenza. Blackberries consumed around Europe. Spain, Disk Quern developed. India, Cholera described in Sanskrit. Romans manufacture dipped Candles.
430 BCE – Athens, Typhoid Fever outbreak during siege by Sparta.
400 BCE - The "Celts/Gaeil" settle Ireland. Greece, the “Hippocratic Corpus” seventy collected medical texts, mentions Pneumonia, Meningitis, Valerian Root.
396 BCE - Olympics, horn blowing competitions.
314 BCE - China, first mention of Sweet Orange.
298 BCE - Foot powered Loom.
200 BCE - China starts making paper.