Potato cell labeled
AstroPhotatography
2018.03.12 20:27 orlet AstroPhotatography
Potato astro-photography
2019.06.17 17:10 imboomerandthisisdeep
We all have that weird aunt that posts nonsense minion memes about how kids can't use books because cell phones exist, or some grandparent who posts poorly drawn newspaper comics where every single object and person in frame is labeled with the concept it's supposed to represent because implicit symbolism is dead. This is the place where we all mock them together.
2008.04.14 11:56 the r/California subreddit — for all things Californian
The subreddit for the Golden State of California -- for news and info on what's happening all across the state.
2024.05.22 00:50 Odd-Detective-2650 Excel Help Please
I need help, I can't seem to get this particular thing working. I have Sheet 1 with captured data, each row has 6 columns, all cells relating to the item in column A. All great, but what I am trying to achieve is add this data to Sheet 2 but in a specific format. I.e. Each line from Sheet A should populate the respective cells in Sheet 2 (not in rows). Sheet1-A1 value will go into Sheet2 A1, then Sheet1-A2 data, must go into Sheet2 B1, Sheet1-A3, into Sheet2-B2, and Sheet1A4 into Sheet2-A3, so it builds like a form/label format in a block. I can build it on Sheet2 fine using simple =Sheet1!$A1 or whatever, but if I add the values form Line A into different rows in Sheet2 and drag to copy it down, the data skips 3 rows from Sheet 1... I'm so confused. I've attached screen grabs to show you what I'm looking for.
Could really appreciate the help.
submitted by Odd-Detective-2650 to ExcelQuestion [link] [comments]
Could really appreciate the help.
2024.05.22 00:20 gttstd PRISM MarketView Highlights Soligenix, Inc. as it Builds on Compelling Phase 3 Data with Key Catalysts on the Horizon
NEW YORK, May 21, 2024 (GLOBE NEWSWIRE) -- PRISM MarketView presents an in-depth interview with Dr. Christopher Schaber, President and Chief Executive Officer of Soligenix, Inc. (Nasdaq: SNGX). The late-stage biopharmaceutical company is advancing a broad pipeline of therapeutic and vaccine candidates across its two business segments, emphasizing its strategic focus on diversified drug development.
Soligenix has recently achieved success in its first Phase 3 clinical trial of HyBryte™ (synthetic hypericin) for cutaneous T-cell lymphoma (CTCL), a rare and chronic cancer. The trial showed statistical significance in its primary endpoint, and a second confirmatory Phase 3 study is set to commence in 2024. HyBryte™ has received Orphan Drug Designations from both the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) and European Medicines Agency (EMA), along with Fast Track status from the FDA. These developments underscore a potentially de-risked path to regulatory approvals worldwide.
In addition to its robust biotherapeutics portfolio, which includes active clinical programs in psoriasis and Behçet’s disease, Soligenix has an established Public Health Solutions business. This segment is advancing heat-stable vaccines and therapeutics, notably with its proprietary ThermoVax® process, which enables lyophilization without compromising potency — a critical factor in areas lacking cold chain logistics.
logodehazesearch PRISM MarketView Highlights Soligenix, Inc. as it Builds on Compelling Phase 3 Data with Key Catalysts on the Horizon May 21, 2024 12:35 ET Source: PRISM MarketView
NEW YORK, May 21, 2024 (GLOBE NEWSWIRE) -- PRISM MarketView presents an in-depth interview with Dr. Christopher Schaber, President and Chief Executive Officer of Soligenix, Inc. (Nasdaq: SNGX). The late-stage biopharmaceutical company is advancing a broad pipeline of therapeutic and vaccine candidates across its two business segments, emphasizing its strategic focus on diversified drug development.
Soligenix has recently achieved success in its first Phase 3 clinical trial of HyBryte™ (synthetic hypericin) for cutaneous T-cell lymphoma (CTCL), a rare and chronic cancer. The trial showed statistical significance in its primary endpoint, and a second confirmatory Phase 3 study is set to commence in 2024. HyBryte™ has received Orphan Drug Designations from both the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) and European Medicines Agency (EMA), along with Fast Track status from the FDA. These developments underscore a potentially de-risked path to regulatory approvals worldwide.
In addition to its robust biotherapeutics portfolio, which includes active clinical programs in psoriasis and Behçet’s disease, Soligenix has an established Public Health Solutions business. This segment is advancing heat-stable vaccines and therapeutics, notably with its proprietary ThermoVax® process, which enables lyophilization without compromising potency — a critical factor in areas lacking cold chain logistics.
Dr. Schaber shared insights into the recent publication of HyBryte results in the Journal of the European Academy of Dermatology & Venereology. The open-label study, involving nine patients, showed significant improvements in CTCL lesions, confirming the efficacy seen in the Phase 3 FLASH trial. "Our clinical studies have demonstrated HyBryte's strong and rapid efficacy and a benign safety profile. It's applicable across various lesion types, skin tones, and stages of disease," said Dr. Schaber.
Addressing the public health solutions segment, Dr. Schaber highlighted the advancement of vaccine candidates for ricin toxin, Sudan ebolavirus, Marburg marburgvirus, and COVID-19. Soligenix is particularly focused on pursuing FDA approval for RiVax® under the FDA's animal rule and expects to publish preclinical study results in the second half of 2024. The segment has already secured over $30 million in NIH funding and grants.
For 2024, Soligenix is poised to achieve several key milestones. "We will be enrolling the first patients in our 18-week Phase 3 placebo-controlled study evaluating HyBryte™ in CTCL across the US and Europe. We also anticipate reporting expanded results from our Phase 2a study of SGX302 in psoriasis and initiating a Phase 2a clinical study of SGX945 for aphthous mouth ulcers in Behçet's Disease," Dr. Schaber explained.
submitted by gttstd to Soligenix [link] [comments]
Soligenix has recently achieved success in its first Phase 3 clinical trial of HyBryte™ (synthetic hypericin) for cutaneous T-cell lymphoma (CTCL), a rare and chronic cancer. The trial showed statistical significance in its primary endpoint, and a second confirmatory Phase 3 study is set to commence in 2024. HyBryte™ has received Orphan Drug Designations from both the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) and European Medicines Agency (EMA), along with Fast Track status from the FDA. These developments underscore a potentially de-risked path to regulatory approvals worldwide.
In addition to its robust biotherapeutics portfolio, which includes active clinical programs in psoriasis and Behçet’s disease, Soligenix has an established Public Health Solutions business. This segment is advancing heat-stable vaccines and therapeutics, notably with its proprietary ThermoVax® process, which enables lyophilization without compromising potency — a critical factor in areas lacking cold chain logistics.
logodehazesearch PRISM MarketView Highlights Soligenix, Inc. as it Builds on Compelling Phase 3 Data with Key Catalysts on the Horizon May 21, 2024 12:35 ET Source: PRISM MarketView
NEW YORK, May 21, 2024 (GLOBE NEWSWIRE) -- PRISM MarketView presents an in-depth interview with Dr. Christopher Schaber, President and Chief Executive Officer of Soligenix, Inc. (Nasdaq: SNGX). The late-stage biopharmaceutical company is advancing a broad pipeline of therapeutic and vaccine candidates across its two business segments, emphasizing its strategic focus on diversified drug development.
Soligenix has recently achieved success in its first Phase 3 clinical trial of HyBryte™ (synthetic hypericin) for cutaneous T-cell lymphoma (CTCL), a rare and chronic cancer. The trial showed statistical significance in its primary endpoint, and a second confirmatory Phase 3 study is set to commence in 2024. HyBryte™ has received Orphan Drug Designations from both the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) and European Medicines Agency (EMA), along with Fast Track status from the FDA. These developments underscore a potentially de-risked path to regulatory approvals worldwide.
In addition to its robust biotherapeutics portfolio, which includes active clinical programs in psoriasis and Behçet’s disease, Soligenix has an established Public Health Solutions business. This segment is advancing heat-stable vaccines and therapeutics, notably with its proprietary ThermoVax® process, which enables lyophilization without compromising potency — a critical factor in areas lacking cold chain logistics.
Dr. Schaber shared insights into the recent publication of HyBryte results in the Journal of the European Academy of Dermatology & Venereology. The open-label study, involving nine patients, showed significant improvements in CTCL lesions, confirming the efficacy seen in the Phase 3 FLASH trial. "Our clinical studies have demonstrated HyBryte's strong and rapid efficacy and a benign safety profile. It's applicable across various lesion types, skin tones, and stages of disease," said Dr. Schaber.
Addressing the public health solutions segment, Dr. Schaber highlighted the advancement of vaccine candidates for ricin toxin, Sudan ebolavirus, Marburg marburgvirus, and COVID-19. Soligenix is particularly focused on pursuing FDA approval for RiVax® under the FDA's animal rule and expects to publish preclinical study results in the second half of 2024. The segment has already secured over $30 million in NIH funding and grants.
For 2024, Soligenix is poised to achieve several key milestones. "We will be enrolling the first patients in our 18-week Phase 3 placebo-controlled study evaluating HyBryte™ in CTCL across the US and Europe. We also anticipate reporting expanded results from our Phase 2a study of SGX302 in psoriasis and initiating a Phase 2a clinical study of SGX945 for aphthous mouth ulcers in Behçet's Disease," Dr. Schaber explained.
2024.05.21 23:50 LaLiLuLeLo_0 Everdrive GB X7: Finding compatible Micro SD cards
I noticed that key details for setting up a Micro SD card for the Everdrive GB X7 were scattered all over so I wanted to summarize them in one place. This post also has more info on finding low-power Micro SD cards beyond just "pick a small size from a good brand".
Flash memory works by storing different voltage levels in flash "cells". Older chips would use "SLC" (Single Level Cell) tech, storing 1 bit per cell. Later came "MLC" (Multi Level Cell), which stores 2 bits per cell. Most newer Micro SD cards use QLC, or 4 bits per cell.
Storing more bits per cell has the benefit of making larger, cheaper storage, but at the cost of reliability and higher power draw. This page goes into more detail as it pertains to aerospace, but the same tradeoffs apply here.
So, to find a lower-power SD card, you should specifically look for MLC or SLC cards. Expect MLC to cost 3-4x more per GB vs what you'd pay for a typical Micro SD card, which will be QLC. I just recently got an 8 GB "SanDisk Industrial MLC" card for $10 and 16 GB MLC card for $14 and confirmed they both read/write without issue, while a different 16 GB SanDisk card that was not specifically labeled MLC does not work.
I side-stepped this by not using a partition table at all, and just writing the FAT filesystem directly to the sd card itself, rather than in a partition. I've seen some people have issues with partition tables "automatically" converting to GPT. No partition table = nothing to accidentally convert.
On Linux, to make the filesystem, I ran
sudo mkfs.fat -I -F 32 /dev/sdd -n 'EverdriveGB'
Notice that I specified sdd and NOT sdd1, because I'm not using any partitions at all. You can find the right device on your system with lsblk.
submitted by LaLiLuLeLo_0 to everdrive [link] [comments]
Error F6: FAT Error
Usually indicates that either (1) the Micro SD card draws too much power, or (2) the Micro SD card is formatted with a GPT partition table when it must be MBR.Finding low-power Micro SD cards
TL;DR, look for SD cards specifically labeled MLC or SLC.Flash memory works by storing different voltage levels in flash "cells". Older chips would use "SLC" (Single Level Cell) tech, storing 1 bit per cell. Later came "MLC" (Multi Level Cell), which stores 2 bits per cell. Most newer Micro SD cards use QLC, or 4 bits per cell.
Storing more bits per cell has the benefit of making larger, cheaper storage, but at the cost of reliability and higher power draw. This page goes into more detail as it pertains to aerospace, but the same tradeoffs apply here.
So, to find a lower-power SD card, you should specifically look for MLC or SLC cards. Expect MLC to cost 3-4x more per GB vs what you'd pay for a typical Micro SD card, which will be QLC. I just recently got an 8 GB "SanDisk Industrial MLC" card for $10 and 16 GB MLC card for $14 and confirmed they both read/write without issue, while a different 16 GB SanDisk card that was not specifically labeled MLC does not work.
Using the right partition table (MBR)
Like the heading says, if you use a partition table, it must be MBR and not GPT.I side-stepped this by not using a partition table at all, and just writing the FAT filesystem directly to the sd card itself, rather than in a partition. I've seen some people have issues with partition tables "automatically" converting to GPT. No partition table = nothing to accidentally convert.
On Linux, to make the filesystem, I ran
sudo mkfs.fat -I -F 32 /dev/sdd -n 'EverdriveGB'
Notice that I specified sdd and NOT sdd1, because I'm not using any partitions at all. You can find the right device on your system with lsblk.
2024.05.21 23:14 420MacMan [USA-CA][H] PS1+2+3+4+Vita, XBox360+One+Controllers, N64, Gameboy, Switch, Wii, Gamecube, Dreamcast, 3DS, DS, Controllers for Repair, Manuals/Covers/Cases [W] Paypal
Have a few items i'm trying to clear out all in good condition, noted if games are loose or CIB.
Open to offers on Bundles especially , bundle lots listed as well with discounts.
$5 Games for various systems available $25 Minimum if only buying from this list please.
$3.50 Shipping for first item & exact amount for bigger bundles sent via USPS and taking Paypal F&F with Pics available upon request.
Total estimate with PriceCharting is about $2,900
Will take and accept $2,400 Shipped on the entire Lot excluding Paperwork Material.
Metro Redux CIB $15
Plants vs Zombies 2 : Garden Warfare $10
Deus Ex MD $10
Grand Theft Auto V $10
Metro Redux $10
Rare Replay/Ultimate Gears of War $20
Torment Tides of Nememura in GameStop Case $10
Transformers Devastation $20
Sunset Overdrive $10
Pillars of Eternity in GameStop Case $10
One Lords of the Fallen $10
XBox One Phantom Black Controller CIB USED $25 (Controller is 7/10 cosmetic wise with bottom back bumpers having heavy scuffs & 9/10 overall function wise)
XBox Series S White OEM Controller - $25 (Controller is 9/10 cosmetic wise. Left trigger buttons gets stuck randomly not sure if something small or dirt is stuck, buttons functions perfectly)
Cruis'N USA - $15
Body Harvest - $20
Aerofighters Assault - $10
Top Gear Overdrive - $10
Tony Hawk 3 - $65
Buck Bumble - $30
Pokemon Puzzle League with Manual (game and manual in great condition) - $40
Space Station Silicon Valley - $40
Gex 3: Deep Cover Gecko (Entire label was missing so a cheap replacement was made) - $20
Command And Conquer - $20
The New Tetris - $30
Snowboard Kids 1 with Manual (manual and game in great shape small tear on back of Cart) - $70
Robotron 64 - $20
Forsaken 64 (video rental sticker on label) $15
Yoshi's Story - $25
Mischief Makers - $40
Wipeout - $15
Doom 64 - $30
Kobe Bryant In NBA Courtside Box(good shape includes inner tray) - $25
NHL Breakaway '98 Box (good condition no inner tray) - $10
Mario Tennis 64 Game with Box (Box is rough shape, missing ride side flap. includes inner tray, Cart is clean) - $50
Old Skool GC Controller Adapter (Works on Switch/PC/Wii U) - $20
Hyperkin Joy-Con Grip Charger - $10
Monster Hunter Rise Joy-Cons with Grip NIB - $125
Shin Megami Tensei V [Steelbook Edition] - $30
Blacksad: Under The Skin [Limited Edition] SEALED $25
KORG Gadget $65
Psikyo Collection Vol. 3 JAP $45
Hot Shots Golf World Invitational $15
Legend Of Heroes: Trails Of Cold Steel 1 $40
Dynasty Warriors Next $20
Stranger Of Sword City $25
Shantae Half-Genie Hero [Risky Beats Edition] $45
UnEpic SEALED $65
Risk Of Rain SEALED $35
Aqua Kitty SEALED $40
World Series Baseball 2K1 loose $10
MTV Sports Skateboarding loose $10
Crush 3D Loose in 3DS Case $10
Cubic Ninja Loose in 3DS Case $10
Codename S.T.E.A.M $10
Smash Bros 3DS CIB $17
Steel Diver CIB $8
FF9 CIB (Case damaged) $15
Sim City 2000 Game+Case (damaged) $10
Oddworld Abes Oddysee CIB $20
Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles Ring Of Fates - $15
OEM Charging Base for original 3DS $20
Intec DS Case(scuffed up) $10
NiNoKuni 1 Steelbook CIB $20
Zone Of The Enders HD Collection CIB $15
Yakuza 3 Loose $15
Metal Gear Solid HD Collection Loose $15
Genji Days Of The Blade $20
Genji Days Of The Blade Loose $10
https://imgur.com/a/1odALsV
MGS 2 CIB $10
DQ8 missing Demo Disc $20
Onimusha 2 CIB $15
MX vs ATV Unleashed CIB $10
Tekken 5 CIB $30
Kingdom Hearts 1 GH CIB $10
Kingdom Hearts 2 GH CIB $10
Stuntman CIB $10
Looney Tunes Back in Action CIB Looney Tunes Back in Action $10
Tak CIB $10
Soul Caliber 3 CIB $15
God of War 1 First Print CIB $50
GTA San Andreas (missing manual) $10
Gran Turismo 3 A-Spec $10
Soul Caliber 2 CIB $15
ATV Offroad Fury 4 $10
MDK 2 Armageddon Loose $10
Need For Speed Hot Pursuit 2 $10
The Getaway $10
007 Agent Under Fire Loose $10
Test Drive GH $10
Eye Toy Antigrav with Eye Camera $20
Marvel Ultimate Alliance in Gamestop Case $10
OEM Black Controller with Battery Pack $20
Donkey Kong Bundle (includes CIB copy of Donkey Konga, 1x loose Bogo Drum controller and DK Jungle Beat Bongo Drum controller in box but missing game BOX IS IN ROUGH SHAPE) - $125
Odama CIB with Microphone (Big Box is in rough shape but Game/Case/Manual/Mic are in perfect condition) $35
GB Player OEM Case Holder *Missing outer cardboard and Manual $25
Monopoly Party+Manual in Blockbuster Case $10
Star Wars Rogue Leader+Manual in DVD Case $15
Spiderman 2 Player's Choice (Missing Manual) $15
Megaman Anniversary Collection (Missing Manual) $20
MC Groovez Dance Craze$10
Fifa Soccer 2002 $10
Need For Speed Hot Pursuit 2 loose in GC Case $15
Resident Evil 1 CIB Players Choice $30
Generic Dual Wiimote Charging Dock $10
GC NFL2k3 Loose with Cover & Manual
XB360 BF3 Limited Edition
XB360 Kinect Adventures
XB360 Motionsports
XB360 Call of Duty Ghosts
XB360 Darksiders 2
PS2 Wheel of Fortune
PS2 Motorcross Mania 3
PS2 Seaworld Deep Sea Adventures
PS2 Socom US Navy Seal
PS2 Final Fantasy X-2
PS2 ThrillVille
PS2 Star Wars The Force Unleashed CIB
PS2 Army Men Soldiers of Misfortune
PS2 Welcome to Jumpack Demo Disc
PS2 Metal Arms in Generic Case
PS2 MX vs ATX
PS2 Army Men
PS2 Rocky
PS2 NCAA Football 2004
PS2 Army Men : Sarges Hero
PS2 Full Spectrum Warrior
PS2 FIFA 2001 MLS
PS2 NCAA Football 2003
PS2 NCAA Football 2004
PS3 Need for Speed Most Wanted CIB
PS3 Call of Duty : Modern Warfare 3
PS3 Need for Speed Pro Street
PS3 Red Faction Guerilla x2
PS3 MoH Warfighter LE Loose
PS3 Crysis 2
PS3 Mercenaries 2 in Generic Case
PS3 Call of Duty MW3 x2
PS3 Assassins Creed 4 BF
PS3 Beyond Steelbook (Bad shape broken at spine)
PS3 Uncharted Dual Pack in Custom generic case
PS4 Has Been Heroes
PS4 The Division
(White controller has minor drift on Right thumb stick, 1st Black one has Left Bumper issues where it's not detecting the press always and the 2nd Black one has the B button gets stucken on occasions.
Both Black ones have something small loose inside rattling. And both Black ones come with original back voters as the Power A one shown here is for my rechargeable batteries. Shipping should be around $10-15 at max if that.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/200232813@N07/albums/72177720316925867)
3DS Persona Q : Shadow of the Labyrinth Case $10
PS4 Rise of the Tomb Raider 20th Anniversary Extras Only No Game $10
Grand Kingdom Case $10
Toukiden : Kiwami Case $10
Wii Dragon Quest Swords Manual $7
Wii Monster Hunter 3 Manual $5
Wii Elebits Manual $5
GC Ghost Recon Case & Manual $7
GC True Crime Streets of LA Case & Manual $10
GC Spiderman 1 Case Only $7
GC Dead to Rights Case & Manual $10
GC Splinter Cell Pandora Tomorrow Case & Manual $10
GC Hitman 2 Case & Manual $10
GC MoH Frontline Case & Manual $7
GC Rainbow Six 3 Case & Manual $7
PS2 Red Faction Case $5
PS2 Call of Duty FH Case & Manual $7
GC NFL 2K3 Case $5
PS4 Nioh Case $5
PS Vita Exist Archive Case $5
PS3 Zone of Enders HD Collection Case & Manual $10
PS2 Dragon Quest 8 Case & Manual $10
PS2 Onimusha 2 Case & Manual $10
PS2 Tekken 5 Case & Manual $10
PS2 Kingdom Hearts 1 GH Case & Manual $10
PS2 Kingdom Hearts 2 GH Case & Manual $10
PS2 Area 51 Case PAL version $5
GC NBA 2K2 Case & Manual $10
PS2 Final Fantasy X-2 Case $ Manual $10
PS2 Starwars Battlefront Case & Manual $10
GC Prince of Persia Cover & Manual $10
GC Viewtiful Joe 1 Manual $20
PS2 Katamari Damacy Cover & Manual $10
GC Burnout 3 Takedown $5
PS2 Nightmare before Christmas Oogies Revenge Cover & Manual $15
PS2 GTA San Andreas Cover & Manual $10
PS2 Capcom Classic Collection Cover & Manual $15
PS2 Virtua Fighter 4 Evolution Manual $5
PS2 Megaman X Collection Cover & Manual $15
PS2 Star Ocean Till the End of Time Cover & Manual $10
PS2 R-Type Final Cover & Manual $15
PS2 Soul Caliber 2 Cover $7
XB Panzer Dragoon Orta Cover & Manual $30
XB Ninja Gaiden Black Cover & Manual $10
PS2 Mad Maestro Cover & Manual $10
PS2 007 Everything or Nothing Manual $5
PS2 Half Life 2 Cover $10
PS2 Devil May Cry 3 Cover & Manual $10
PS2 FF X-2 Cover & Manual $10
PS2 REZ Cover & Manual $15
PS2 Rygar Cover & Manual $10
PS2 Chaos Legion Manual $7
PS2 Zone of Enders 1 Cover & Manual $10
PS2 Final Fantasy 12 Manual $7
PS2 Front Mission 4 Cover & Manual $10
PS2 Metal Gear Solid 3 Subsistence Cover $7
PS2 Escape from Monkey Island Cover $7
PS1 Final Fantasy Chronicles GH Back/Front Cover & Manual $10
PS1 Tenchu 1 Cover & Manual $15
PS1 Final Fantasy 7 GH Front/Back Cover & Manual $15
PS1 Buster Bros Collection Cover & Manual $20
GC Zelda Master Quest Manual + Windwaker Promotional Paperwork $30
PS2 Black Case & Manual $10
submitted by 420MacMan to GameSale [link] [comments]
Open to offers on Bundles especially , bundle lots listed as well with discounts.
$5 Games for various systems available $25 Minimum if only buying from this list please.
$3.50 Shipping for first item & exact amount for bigger bundles sent via USPS and taking Paypal F&F with Pics available upon request.
Total estimate with PriceCharting is about $2,900
Will take and accept $2,400 Shipped on the entire Lot excluding Paperwork Material.
PS4 - $200 on Lot
PS4 Slim 500 GB Console with 1x OEM Black Dualshock $175Metro Redux CIB $15
Plants vs Zombies 2 : Garden Warfare $10
Deus Ex MD $10
Grand Theft Auto V $10
XBox - $125 on Lot
https://www.flickr.com/photos/200232813@N07/albums/72177720315735025/Metro Redux $10
Rare Replay/Ultimate Gears of War $20
Torment Tides of Nememura in GameStop Case $10
Transformers Devastation $20
Sunset Overdrive $10
Pillars of Eternity in GameStop Case $10
One Lords of the Fallen $10
XBox One Phantom Black Controller CIB USED $25 (Controller is 7/10 cosmetic wise with bottom back bumpers having heavy scuffs & 9/10 overall function wise)
XBox Series S White OEM Controller - $25 (Controller is 9/10 cosmetic wise. Left trigger buttons gets stuck randomly not sure if something small or dirt is stuck, buttons functions perfectly)
N64 - $500 on lot
https://imgur.com/a/H9g5GqQCruis'N USA - $15
Body Harvest - $20
Aerofighters Assault - $10
Top Gear Overdrive - $10
Tony Hawk 3 - $65
Buck Bumble - $30
Pokemon Puzzle League with Manual (game and manual in great condition) - $40
Space Station Silicon Valley - $40
Gex 3: Deep Cover Gecko (Entire label was missing so a cheap replacement was made) - $20
Command And Conquer - $20
The New Tetris - $30
Snowboard Kids 1 with Manual (manual and game in great shape small tear on back of Cart) - $70
Robotron 64 - $20
Forsaken 64 (video rental sticker on label) $15
Yoshi's Story - $25
Mischief Makers - $40
Wipeout - $15
Doom 64 - $30
Kobe Bryant In NBA Courtside Box(good shape includes inner tray) - $25
NHL Breakaway '98 Box (good condition no inner tray) - $10
Mario Tennis 64 Game with Box (Box is rough shape, missing ride side flap. includes inner tray, Cart is clean) - $50
Gameboy
TMNT Fall of the Foot Clan - $10Switch - $325 on lot
Hori Split Pad Pro Blue CIB (used about 7 months in 9/10 condition) - $25Old Skool GC Controller Adapter (Works on Switch/PC/Wii U) - $20
Hyperkin Joy-Con Grip Charger - $10
Monster Hunter Rise Joy-Cons with Grip NIB - $125
Shin Megami Tensei V [Steelbook Edition] - $30
Blacksad: Under The Skin [Limited Edition] SEALED $25
KORG Gadget $65
Psikyo Collection Vol. 3 JAP $45
PS Vita - $275 on Lot
The Walking Dead: Season 2 $25Hot Shots Golf World Invitational $15
Legend Of Heroes: Trails Of Cold Steel 1 $40
Dynasty Warriors Next $20
Stranger Of Sword City $25
Shantae Half-Genie Hero [Risky Beats Edition] $45
UnEpic SEALED $65
Risk Of Rain SEALED $35
Aqua Kitty SEALED $40
Dreamcast - $20 on Lot
NBA2K1 loose $10World Series Baseball 2K1 loose $10
MTV Sports Skateboarding loose $10
3DS - $100 on Lot
Legend Of Legacy Launch Edition SEALED $60Crush 3D Loose in 3DS Case $10
Cubic Ninja Loose in 3DS Case $10
Codename S.T.E.A.M $10
Smash Bros 3DS CIB $17
Steel Diver CIB $8
PS1 - $45 on Lot
Fighter Maker Loose $10FF9 CIB (Case damaged) $15
Sim City 2000 Game+Case (damaged) $10
Oddworld Abes Oddysee CIB $20
DS - $50 on Lot
Bleach Blade Of Fate Loose $15Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles Ring Of Fates - $15
OEM Charging Base for original 3DS $20
Intec DS Case(scuffed up) $10
PS3 - $75 on Lot
Final Fantasy X/X2 Remaster Limited Edition CIB $10NiNoKuni 1 Steelbook CIB $20
Zone Of The Enders HD Collection CIB $15
Yakuza 3 Loose $15
Metal Gear Solid HD Collection Loose $15
Genji Days Of The Blade $20
Genji Days Of The Blade Loose $10
PS2 - $225 on Lot
https://imgur.com/a/pBJLqjfhttps://imgur.com/a/1odALsV
MGS 2 CIB $10
DQ8 missing Demo Disc $20
Onimusha 2 CIB $15
MX vs ATV Unleashed CIB $10
Tekken 5 CIB $30
Kingdom Hearts 1 GH CIB $10
Kingdom Hearts 2 GH CIB $10
Stuntman CIB $10
Looney Tunes Back in Action CIB Looney Tunes Back in Action $10
Tak CIB $10
Soul Caliber 3 CIB $15
God of War 1 First Print CIB $50
GTA San Andreas (missing manual) $10
Gran Turismo 3 A-Spec $10
Soul Caliber 2 CIB $15
ATV Offroad Fury 4 $10
MDK 2 Armageddon Loose $10
Need For Speed Hot Pursuit 2 $10
The Getaway $10
007 Agent Under Fire Loose $10
Test Drive GH $10
Eye Toy Antigrav with Eye Camera $20
XB360 - $35 on Lot
3rd Party Controller $10Marvel Ultimate Alliance in Gamestop Case $10
OEM Black Controller with Battery Pack $20
Gamecube - $275 for Lot
GBA to GC Link Cable loose - $15Donkey Kong Bundle (includes CIB copy of Donkey Konga, 1x loose Bogo Drum controller and DK Jungle Beat Bongo Drum controller in box but missing game BOX IS IN ROUGH SHAPE) - $125
Odama CIB with Microphone (Big Box is in rough shape but Game/Case/Manual/Mic are in perfect condition) $35
GB Player OEM Case Holder *Missing outer cardboard and Manual $25
Monopoly Party+Manual in Blockbuster Case $10
Star Wars Rogue Leader+Manual in DVD Case $15
Spiderman 2 Player's Choice (Missing Manual) $15
Megaman Anniversary Collection (Missing Manual) $20
MC Groovez Dance Craze$10
Fifa Soccer 2002 $10
Need For Speed Hot Pursuit 2 loose in GC Case $15
Resident Evil 1 CIB Players Choice $30
Wii - $20 for Lot
Nights Journey of Dreams in Gamestop Case & Manual $10Generic Dual Wiimote Charging Dock $10
$5 Games - $150 on Lot
GC 007 NightFire Case with Fantastic Four GamesGC NFL2k3 Loose with Cover & Manual
XB360 BF3 Limited Edition
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https://www.flickr.com/photos/200232813@N07/albums/72177720316925867)
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2024.05.21 23:08 ColdWarArmyBratVet How can I use a variable A/C power control on a motor with a ‘soft start’?
I have a 60-yr old 120V bench grinder with a ‘soft start’. It has a capacitor the size of a big cell phone. I would like to vary the RPM depending on what I’m grinding. So, I picked up a cheap power controller and thought I could put it between the outlet and the grinder. However, the manufacturer of the power controller states that it is not to be used with ‘soft start’ motors. I’m assuming that this has to do with the role of the capacitor to bring power up gradually (3 seconds).
Input voltage up to 220V Max output of 2000 watts, 25Amps. Pot is described as ‘500 k Ohm’. Provides variable output voltage between 50 & 220 V for input voltage of 220 V. Manufacturer markets it as an A/C motor controller. They claim it uses a ‘novel bi-directional high power SCR’ to keep heat low. One component on the small 1.5”x2” circuit board is labeled ‘thrystor’.
Any enlightening is welcome, assume I don’t know much about electronic circuits beyond identifying basic components and their basic uses.
submitted by ColdWarArmyBratVet to learnelectronics [link] [comments]
- Am I right to think that the grinder’s soft start is due to the capacitor between the line in and the motor?
- If so, can I put the A/C controller between the capacitor and motor? If so, what should I keep in mind when wiring it?
Input voltage up to 220V Max output of 2000 watts, 25Amps. Pot is described as ‘500 k Ohm’. Provides variable output voltage between 50 & 220 V for input voltage of 220 V. Manufacturer markets it as an A/C motor controller. They claim it uses a ‘novel bi-directional high power SCR’ to keep heat low. One component on the small 1.5”x2” circuit board is labeled ‘thrystor’.
Any enlightening is welcome, assume I don’t know much about electronic circuits beyond identifying basic components and their basic uses.
2024.05.21 22:17 do_not_look_4_door We Were Driving Cross-Country When We Entered A Tunnel. DO NOT TRY TO FIND IT!
My wife, Mia, and I were driving cross-country. It was our first attempt at the “Great American Roadtrip.”
Mia and I rented a small RV; more of a camper than a full blown RV. We packed up a couple suitcases with plenty of room for any souvenirs and we hit the dusty trail.
We started our journey on the “Mother Road”-- Route 66-- driving south from Chicago until we connected to i-70 and shot straight west through Missouri.
The goal was to see those parts of the country we had never seen before, stopping anywhere that seemed interesting. From the plains of Kansas up through the badlands of Wyoming and South Dakota.
In Missouri we saw the world’s largest cap gun. In Kansas we visited the Evel Knievel Museum and the World’s Largest Belt Buckle.
We love all those kitschy, tourist trap places.
Eventually, we made it to Colorado and after a few hours more of driving through amber waves of grain, we saw them... the Rocky Mountains.
We made an exit and headed north through the winding mountain highways.
The Rockies were gorgeous. Snow capped in the middle of summer, some of the peaks pierced through the white fluffy clouds.
We saw a sign that read “Traffic Tunnel - 3 Miles.”
A little further and sure enough, there it was, a large tunnel bored directly through the mountain in front of us.
A large sign read, “Pike Tunnel - Longest Traffic Tunnel in the Nation! - Please turn your headlights on now.”
“How long is it?” asked Mia.
“That’s what she said,” I quipped.
But she was right, there was no information beyond the detail that this was the longest tunnel in the nation.
“Can’t be more than a mile or two,” I said as I watched the little white car ahead of us slip into the darkness. A moment later we joined it.
The tunnel was lit by fluorescents that gave everything a greenish yellow tinge. On the left hand side was a raised walkway behind a railing for maintenance access.
Initially I was struck by the incredible amount of work that went into the construction of this man- made marvel.
“We’re under a million tons of rocky mountain right now,” I said.
“How many years before this caves in?” Mia responded.
I shot her a look--
“Let’s save the cave-in talk until we’re out on the other side.”
“I’m just saying, nature will take this back eventually,” she continued.
I scanned the empty road ahead of us.
“Where did the other car go?” I asked.
We were now alone in the tunnel, no cars ahead of us nor behind us.
“Huh... they must have sped off ahead. Maybe they’re scared of a cave-in?”
My Spotify playlist had stopped playing. Mia looked at the phone.
“No cell service.”
She turned on the radio and spun the dial only to find static.
“You’re not going to be able to pick up a station in here,” I said.
She turned the volume down.
“Just wanted to check... If only we had some CDs. This tunnel really keeps going.”
“I would have thought we’d be through it by now,” I replied.
I looked at the RV’s odometer, 45,600 miles. I picked up speed. I wanted to try and catch up to the little white car.
Up until this point, the tunnel was a straight shot, but now the tunnel started to curve to the right. It may have been my imagination but it also felt as though we were descending…
Mia felt it too and she started to get antsy.
“Where did that other car go? How long is this tunnel?”
There was an urgency in her voice.
I was getting nervous, claustrophobia was not usually a problem for me but when I looked down at the odometer and I saw that it had gone up by 3 miles, my mind began to wander to unsettling places.
We were descending in altitude. I could feel it. I could see a slope in the lights on the ceiling and the railing of the maintenance walkway. I could feel a pressure in my head, and I was getting cold.
“Could you grab me a coke from the back, Mia?”
I couldn’t have Mia getting anxious, that would only start a chain reaction and make me freak out which would then make her freak out.
She unbuckled and ducked into the back of the RV to where we had a cooler stocked with drinks and food.
Just as she stepped into the back, I saw something.
There standing on the side of the road was a MAN wearing a reflective safety vest and a hard hat. He was WAVING to me as I passed him by.
Something about him looked... strange…
I watched him in the side-view mirror as we passed and he was still watching the RV, still waving at the back of our vehicle as he faded into the distance.
Mia reappeared from the back of the RV, Coke in hand. She popped it and handed it to me.
“You look worried.”
“I’m fine,” I smiled and took a sip of the Coke.
“Eric, slow down!”
I slammed on the breaks as I saw what made Mia scream. In the road in front of us was a roadblock.
Two reflective traffic sawhorses blocked both lanes of the tunnel. Beyond the roadblock, the lights of the tunnel were dark. There was nothing but a void of blackness.
Standing in front of the roadblock was another man wearing a reflective vest and a hard hat, only this time his hard hat had a light on top which obscured his face.
We came to a jolting stop.
I turned to Mia
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s a cave-in isn’t it?”
“God, I hope not.”
I rolled down the window, leaned out and yelled to the man in the hard hat.
“Hey! What’s going on?!”
The man was about 5 yards away. He took two steps towards us and then raised a hand to his mouth and yelled.
“Just doing some maintenance!”
“How long is it going to take?!” I yelled back.
The man made a hand gesture as if he didn’t hear me.
“How long is it going to take?!” I called again.
He made the same gesture. I unbuckled my seat belt and grabbed the door release.
“What are you doing?” Mia asked.
“I gotta know what’s going on.”
“Eric, just stay here, it might not be safe.”
“I’ll be just a second,” I said.
I pushed the door open and stepped down from the RV.
“Stay in your vehicle!” the man yelled.
He took a couple steps towards me with his hand out telling me to stop.
“What’s the hold up?!” I shouted.
The man was a bit closer now but I still couldn’t see his face through the shining light on his helmet.
“Please stay in your vehicle!” he shouted.
There was something off about him.
Then I heard it–
“EEEAAAUUUUUUGHHHHHHHH!!!”
A scream, or something, rolled from deep in the tunnel. The worker turned and looked into the darkness. Then he ran past the barricades and soon all we could see of him was the light on his helmet.
The light disappeared a moment later.
“What the hell was that?! Is someone hurt?” Mia asked.
“I have no idea,” I said.
“Should we do something?” Mia asked.
I just sat there and watched the pitch black tunnel in front of me. I had no idea what to tell her. I checked the sideview mirrors. There was still nobody behind us.
“Where are the other cars?” I asked.
“They must have gotten through before the roadblock... Or maybe they caused the roadblock?” Mia replied.
“I saw another worker a little ways back. We could try to go back and talk to him.”
“We’d be going straight into any oncoming cars.”
“There’s a maintenance walkway. We didn’t pass him that long ago. We can probably catch him on foot.”
“Maybe we should just wait for the guy to come back.”
She reached over and grabbed my arm. I squeezed her hand.
She was right.
I looked out at the tunnel ahead of us. I turned on the RV’s high beams but all I could see beyond the roadblock was more tunnel and more road.
I checked my phone. Unsurprisingly, there was no service still.
We waited, but the man never came back.
“It’s been twenty minutes,” Mia said, “How come there hasn’t been another car behind us?
I was having the same thought. I rolled down my window and stuck my head out. I looked back at the road behind us. It went back about 200 yards before curving out of sight.
There was no sign of that first worker I saw on the maintenance walk way. I looked at the roadblock ahead of us and clicked on the RV’s high beams. There was nothing beyond the roadblock but more tunnel. It didn’t look like it was under construction, just very dark.
“I think we should keep going,” I said.
“What about the roadblock?”
“We’ll move those sawhorses out of the way and just drive past,” I said as I opened my door.
Mia looked at me, then she cast her eyes to the dark tunnel ahead of us. I knew she was processing the same limited options that I was.
Driving backwards would be a huge risk in the instance of another car finally coming along.
Getting out and walking would take God knows how long, we could have driven 10 miles at this point.
Forward was our best option.
“Let’s do it,” Mia said.
We jumped out and quickly pulled the two sawhorses out of the right lane. I pulled the RV up past the barriers, then we jumped out again and put the sawhorses back where they were. We didn't need another car to come barreling through.
We were finally moving again, slowly. It was pitch black save for the high beams of the RV.
We crept forward at around 15 miles per hour. As the tunnel turned and twisted, my eyes started to play tricks on me. I kept seeing shapes at the furthest point of the tunnel.
I kept seeing something standing just at the end of the next bend but as we roll forward, there was nothing there.
“Where are the workers?” Mia asked.
“I don’t know.”
I was done rationalizing. This was all wrong. Traffic tunnels are never this long.
My mind started to wander to all the road trip urban legends I’d read about; The Killer in the Backseat, The Disappearing Gas Station, The Pale Man In The Corn Field.
Did we stumble into some strange outlier location? An in-between point on the endless roads that cross this country?
Then I saw it–
“Look! A person! Thank god!” Mia shouted.
As we rounded a curve in the tunnel, a group of maintenance workers entered our view.
The three of them stood on the left side of the road behind two more sawhorses topped with flashing lights.
Two of them faced towards us, the third was facing the other two.
The one with his back to us wore a light on his hard hat. Was this the same guy we saw earlier? How did he get this far away?
I approached slowly and rolled down the window.
“Hey! You left us waiting back there!” I yelled.
There was no response.
In fact, all three men were completely silent, and it was hard to tell in the flashing light of the sawhorses, but they looked to be standing COMPLETELY STILL.
“Hello?!” I yelled again.
I pushed open my door and stepped out onto the pavement.
“Eric wait--”
I held up a finger to Mia.
“Just a second.”
I slowly stepped towards the 3 men.
“Hello?”
No response… What the fuck?
The bright lights of the sawhorses obscured their faces.
I kept moving closer.
“Hey, what’s going on--”
Then I saw it.
Their faces... They were plastic.
In front of me stood three mannequins.
I backed away toward the RV, then I turned and walked hurriedly to the vehicle.
I was seriously freaked out but I didn’t want to alarm Mia. I climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.
“They’re mannequins.” I said.
“What?”
“They’re mannequins.”
”Why?... What?...”
“I don’t know…”
I looked back over at the three figures and my blood ran cold…
The Hard Hat Mannequin had somehow TURNED AROUND to face us. All three figures appeared to be watching us now.
Then we heard it--
A loud resonant banging on the side, and then the roof of the RV.
“What the hell was that?” Mia whispered.
We listened, holding our breath. Then--
A shuffling sound--
Something was moving ON or IN the RV.
“Stay here.” I said.
I got up.
“Eric, wait!”
I moved to the back of the RV.
It was dark. I went for a drawer in the kitchenette space and pulled out a flashlight.
I moved to the rear of the RV, the bedroom. My flashlight illuminated an empty room.
“Whoever is back here, I have a gun…”
A shitty bluff. But I didn’t see anything.
I shone the light out of the windows of each side of the RV. Nothing.
Then I heard it–
A shuffling sound, from right above me.
I looked up and screamed–
“Fuck!”
On the roof of the RV, staring through the skylight was a woman with vacuous black eyes and a dead smile.
Her stringy black hair dangled down towards me casting thing black shadows across her horrible pale face.
“Mia, drive! Fast!” I screamed.
Mia JUMPED over to the driver’s seat, shifted into gear and STOMPED on the gas. The RV was clunky but it could move when it needed to.
We lurched forward and I fell back.
I trained my flashlight up onto the skylight again and the woman was gone.
I scrambled to my feet and looked out of the side windows.
Did Mia shake her off? There was no sign of the woman. I moved to the passenger seat, breathing heavily and sweating.
“What happened?” She asked, keeping the RV at a steady 50 mph.
“There was a woman on the roof,” I said flatly.
I realize now that I was in a kind of shock.
“A woman?”
“Her eyes were black.”
Mia just looked at me, then back at the tunnel ahead of us.
“There’s something wrong with this tunnel.” I whispered.
Mia pointed at the road ahead, “Look.”
I looked out at the tunnel. There were more mannequins. A LOT more mannequins. They were positioned on both sides of the road.
They were all facing us and even though I never saw them move, when I looked in the side-view mirror, they were somehow STILL facing us, turning to watch us as we drove past. Watching without eyes.
“Just keep driving.” I said.
As we drove on, the mannequins crowded the sides of the road more and more. There were thousands of them. Eventually they were so close that some of their outstretched arms hit the side of the RV.
They were closing in on us. Squeezing our path forward. One stood in the middle of the road.
“I don’t think i can get around it.”
“Run it over. Don’t stop.”
The RV smashed into the mannequin. Its head shot forward and bounced against the windshield and the vehicle shuddered as it rolled over the body.
Soon there were two in the road. Then three.
I could see where this was going. Pretty soon there would be too many for the RV to ram through, but goddammit we were going to get through as many as we could.
“Speed up, Mia.”
CRASH!
The sound was surreal, smashing into mannequin after mannequin at nearly 60 miles per hour.
Hands, legs, heads and torsos flew.
The windshield cracked, the RV shuddered and screamed and eventually slowed down, despite the screaming engine.
I’m certain the axle was jammed up with lifeless, plastic body parts. Eventually we came to a stop.
“She won’t move,” Mia said.
She pressed on the gas but it was no use, the RV just rocked a little bit.
“Try reverse.”
She shifted and pressed on the gas, we got some decent movement before running into another jam.
“Fuck.”
“Should we get out and look?” Mia asked.
“I’ll go,” I said as I grabbed the flashlight and popped the passenger door. Mia unbuckled her seatbelt.
“We’ll go together.”
We stumbled out of the RV on the passenger side. It was like stepping into Hell.
Countless, lifeless faces stared out at us from the darkness. The only light came from the headlights of the RV and my flashlight.
We clumsily made our way along the side of the RV. The ground was littered with mannequin pieces.
I thought to myself, if we could get a couple yards cleared out behind the rear tires, we might be able to back out and get enough momentum to reverse all the way back out of here.
Instead, when we got to the back of the RV, my stomach flipped and my heart sank.
I was expecting to see a trail of flattened mannequins, instead the RV was now surrounded by thousands of perfectly intact mannequins standing at attention. As if their ranks had some how been replenished after our vehicular assault.
“This is impossible.”
She started to cry. I held her close.
“We’ll keep moving.” I said.
“It will never end. The tunnel makes no sense. It only curves one direction.”
I looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“This whole time the tunnel has only been curving to the right. it would sometimes straighten out or go left for a few yards but before too long we were curving to the right again. We’ve either been driving in circles or spiraling downwards.”
“So we’ll go back the way we came and hope we’re not going in circles.” I said.
We had been driving for hours at this point. Walking back out the way we came would take days. But now that I thought about it, Mia was right, we’d only been curving to the right.
This tunnel seemed to be very gradually taking us downwards into the earth.
Going forward would not get us any closer to escape.
“We’ll need food from the RV,” Mia said.
I nodded and we stumbled our way back to the front of the RV, the mannequins’ lifeless faces watching us the whole time.
I stepped up to the passenger door and nearly fell back when I looked through the window.
“What the fuck?” I breathed.
What I saw were two mannequins sitting in the driver’s and passenger’s seat.
How they got in there? I have no idea, but what really made my blood run cold was that they were dressed EXACTLY like MIA and I.
They wore identical sets of clothes. The one in the passenger seat had my same New Order T-shirt and black jeans. The one in the driver’s seat had Mia’s green striped sweater and denim shorts.
Their plastic faces stared out through the shattered windshield at the endless crowd of mannequins staring back at them.
Mia stepped up and saw the uncanny display.
“What the fuck?” Mia echoed.
I pulled myself up into the RV and slowly stepped around my mannequin doppelgänger. I avoided looking into its face but I swear i could feel it watching me as I stumbled around it.
Mia followed and we made our way into the back of our dark RV. Luckily we had just stocked our cooler full of deli meat and water not long after crossing the Colorado state line.
I handed Mia the flashlight and pulled open the cooler. I filled a backpack full of food and water.
I turned and saw them–
My mannequin double had somehow moved. It was standing in the aisle watching us.
Mia’s doppelgänger was still seated in the driver’s seat but had turned to peer back at us with its eyeless gaze.
Mia saw the look in my eyes and turned. She screamed when she saw them and backed into me. I put my arm around her and we stood there a moment, letting our skyrocketing heart rates return to Earth.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said.
I slid the backpack onto my shoulders.
Mia joined me at the door. I looked into her eyes. “Are you ready?” She nodded. I kissed her.
“I love you,” I said.
“I love you,” she said.
The look on her face killed me. She was terrified. I’m sure the look on my face was similar.
I opened the door and we stepped out…
We again stumbled to the back of the RV. Once we were clear of the RV and all the crushed mannequin body parts, it became easier to find footing, though weaving through an endless crowd of lifeless people was a slow process.
It was pitch black. Without the flashlight we wouldn’t be able to see a foot in front of us.
As I walked, the beam of light created the illusion of movement in the crowd. At least I hoped it was an illusion.
The limbs of the mannequins seemed to stretch and turn, but the only sound was that of Mia and I shuffling our way through the crowded tunnel.
Things went on like this for what felt like hours. Mia and I were sweating and aching. I was about to suggest we stop and rest, but then I saw it and I froze…
Out in the crowd, beyond rows of blank faces I saw a pale face, black hair and a dead smile.
I saw two vacuous eyes staring right at me.
“Mia, do you see her?” I whispered.
“See who?”
I slowly raised my arm and pointed.
It was the woman, or whatever it was, that stared back at me through the skylight on the roof of the RV.
“Oh my god!” Mia squeaked.
I could see now that the Pale Faced Woman was tall. A few inches taller than the mannequins.
As I pointed, she stared back at me with that terrible grin.
“What do we do?” Mia whispered.
I raised the flashlight and pointed it right at the Pale Faced Woman. I thought maybe this would scare her off.
I was wrong.
The light only made her appear more unsettling as she stared back, unflinchingly.
“What do you want?!” I yelled.
She only stared back at me. She was as still as the mannequins.
“We have to keep going.” I whispered.
Mia didn’t respond. Her body was tense as she held onto me.
“We’ve come this far, we can’t turn back again,” I continued.
I pulled Mia’s hand and we continued on our way through the mannequins, keeping the distance between us and her as wide as possible.
As we moved past, she kept watching us. Though her movements were imperceptible to us, her eyes never left us. Like one of those portraits whose eyes appear to watch you no matter where you stand.
Finally, we got far enough that she was out of sight. But the thought of her being somewhere behind us only unsettled me further and I quickened our pace.
As the hours wore on, there was no sign of the Pale Faced Woman and the crowd of mannequins began to thin out. They still populated the tunnel from one end to the other, but there was more space between them, allowing Mia and I to walk more freely.
The mannequins on the maintenance walkway on the side of the tunnel seemed to thin out as well and I decided it would give us a better vantage if we were walking up there.
I helped Mia climb up the railing that bordered the walkway, then I climbed up behind her. The walkway was elevated 3 or 4 feet above the roadway. We could easily see over the heads of the mannequins in both directions.
There was, of course, no end to the tunnel in sight.
We kept walking.
The mannequins continued to thin out, but they were different now.
There were mannequins dressed as maintenance workers again, but also mannequins dressed as families and businessmen. There was even a group of mannequin nuns standing in a single file line, heads bowed in prayer.
Needless to say, we passed none of this on the way in to the tunnel. I was feeling very hopeless that we were going to be able to find our way out.
I was far beyond speculating how this was at all possible. It’s NOT possible. And even if it were, there is no good reason for someone to do this to us.
The only explanation was the supernatural. Then I saw Her. Rather, I saw THEM.
Arranged in the middle of the tunnel was a circle of mannequins with long black hair and tattered cloth.
They looked exactly like the Pale Faced Woman, minus any facial features. I kept a close watch on them as we passed to make sure they didn’t start following us.
“A door!” Mia shouted.
Mia pointed a few paces ahead of her. There was a door leading into the wall of the tunnel.
We ran towards it. Mia grabbed the handle, turned it and pulled. It was heavy and Mia had to brace her foot on the wall to get it moving.
The metal door groaned as if it hadn’t been opened in years.
Finally, it was open enough to see past.
It was a hallway. It went out about 5 yards then turned right at a 90 degree angle.
The strangest part was the design of the hallway.
It wasn’t cement or pavement like the tunnel.
The walls were wood paneled and the floor was covered in a thick carpet, like a house from the 1970s.
“I say we see where this takes us.” Mia said.
There was no reason to disagree, but I wasn’t going to get us trapped in there.
I opened up my backpack and took out a water bottle. I opened it and handed it to Mia. She drank half, then I drank the other half.
I slowly closed the door, shoving the empty water bottle in the crack to keep it from closing all the way.
I turned to Mia-- “Okay, let’s go.”
We slowly made our way down the quiet hallway. We got down to where the hallway cornered to the right and that’s when we heard it–
KA-CHUNK!!!--
I whipped around. The door had closed behind us. I ran back to it and tried to push it open, but it was no use. There was no way it closed on its own.
Someone had to have removed the water bottle. Our path had been chosen for us.
There was no turning back.
We continued down the hallway. We turned right. The hallway continued, then turned right again. That should have led us right back to the tunnel. But it didn’t. This part of the hallway went on far longer than was possible without running into the tunnel. Then it turned right again.
It went on like this. Sometimes a section of the hallway was 20 feet long, sometimes it was 20 yards long, sometimes it was 3 feet long. But it always turned to the right.
At first it was a relief to be somewhere other than the cold, dark tunnel. But the hallway very quickly became claustrophobic and before too long, I heard someone walking behind us.
We had stopped to take a break and I heard a third pair of footsteps on the carpet coming from behind us. I backtracked to the last corner.
I was terrified as I slowly peeked around the corner, tense and waiting to see the vacuous eyes and inky black hair of the Pale Faced Woman... but there was nothing there. I wasn’t about to backtrack any further.
“There was no one there.” I whispered.
Mia slumped against the wall and slid down to the carpet.
“I think I need to rest.” She said.
I put my backpack down on the ground for Mia to use as a pillow. She laid her head down and was passed out in seconds.
I had no idea how long we had been walking at this point. I stood leaning against the wall. My body was telling me to rest but I couldn’t risk falling asleep. I had to keep watch. I knew SHE was following us.
I took in the details of the hallway for the first time. The carpet was a dull brown and the walls a cheap wood paneling. The hanging lighting fixtures were shaded by stained glass, something you might see in an old diner.
Who built this place? Did someone pick out the carpet and the lighting fixtures? Did a team of workers blast these tunnels into the Earth? Or has this place always existed? Was this Purgatory?
I began to feel dizzy. I was panicking. My heart felt like it was trying to escape my chest. I slumped to the floor and tried to slow my breathing.
I closed my eyes... –
I SHOT up in a panic. I had fallen asleep while I was meant to be keeping watch.
I snapped to my feet and looked around.
Mia was still asleep on my backpack.
Then I noticed that the hallway had changed. A few paces away there was now a plain wooden door in the wall.
I slowly approached it. I put my ear to the door and I could hear what sounded like TV static and the low murmur of voices.
I discreetly grabbed the door handle and turned it slowly. I felt the latch bolt clear and I carefully cracked the door just enough to peek inside.
It was dark, so it took a second for me to register what I was seeing. I saw a small board room. A long table in the center was surrounded by seated men in suits.
At the end of the table stood another man next to an old CRT TV that was playing static. This was the only source of light in the room and all the men around the table were turned towards the tv.
Suddenly the screen flickered from static to a solid dark background. And some warped new age style muzak began playing.
Then the words appeared on the screen that terrified me like nothing else before. In plain text the words read–
“YOU WILL LOSE HER.”
I froze as I knew these words were meant for me I watched with terror as the men seated around the table slowly turned toward me in unison.
They were mannequins.
The TV screen then clicked off and they continued staring at me as I could barely make out their forms through the near pitch darkness.
I quickly pulled the door shut. And whipped around to look at Mia, I had a horrible feeling of dread that when I turned around she would be gone, like the message on the TV promised–
“Eric? What are you doing?” Mia was leaning up and staring at me.
Thank God. There was Mia, right where I left her.
I pointed at the door and said, “This door appeared and I--”
“What door?” she interrupted.
I turned and sure enough, the door was now gone.
I explained what happened to her, but I left out the message that appeared on the screen.
-- YOU WILL LOSE HER –
Those words still burned in my brain. I tried to force them out.
We drank water, ate granola and then got moving again.
Hallways. Endless hallways.
After a couple hours of walking we started to hear music. There were small speakers in the corners of the ceiling.
I recognized it as the same new-age muzak that played on the TV in the board room. The melody drilled into our minds. Combined with the dull aesthetics of the quiet hallways and the endless right turns, the music had a hypnotizing effect.
The lengths of the halls became more uniform. That is to say, the straight section of hallway was about 7 paces, then a right turn, then 7 paces and a right turn.
“I think we’re walking in circles... or a square,” Mia said.
I looked at her and took out a bottle of water. I peeled off the plastic label and dropped it on the floor.
Then we kept walking.
7 paces, right turn. 7 paces, right turn. 7 paces, right turn. And there it was... Mia was right.
The label from my water bottle lay in the middle of the hallway. Somehow we had been led into a loop. I lost it.
“FUUUCK!”
I kicked the wall repeatedly and screamed. Mia just leaned her back against the wall.
This was our dynamic. If one of us lost it, the other became zen and thought of a solution. More often than not, I was the one to lose it.
I finally stopped freaking out
“There has to be a way out. A door,” Mia said.
“We would have seen it,” I replied.
“A hidden door,” she said.
She turned around and ran her hands along the cracks of the wood paneling.
“Most likely on the outer wall,” she said.
She beat her fist on the wall, listening for a change in the sound. I exhaled heavily, sweating and tired, and I started searching the wall as well.
We checked the whole first wall, nothing. We checked the second wall, nothing. The third, nothing.
The final wall... Nothing. I gave up and slumped on the floor. Mia immediately went over to the other side of the hall and started checking the inner wall.
“What are you doing? I thought you said it would be on the outer wall?” I asked.
Then we heard it.
Mia beat the wall and instead of the dead thud, we heard a resonate BOOM –
A door…
I shot up and started tapping the wall with Mia until we found where the door ended. It was the width of about 4 wooden panels. I lined myself up in the center, lowered my shoulder and pushed–
IT MOVED! It barely moved but it was enough to confirm this actually was a door! I re-centered and tried again, lowering my center of gravity, I pushed as hard as I could. The door pushed inward about 3 inches, then Mia joined in. We slowly moved the door, 5 inches, then 10, then 15, then 20.
Then Mia slipped inside.
I had a moment of panic as she disappeared into the darkness and those haunting words came back into my mind, “YOU WILL LOSE HER.”
I darted past the doorway, falling through the threshold and hitting the concrete floor.
I looked up and there was Mia, thank God. I promised myself I’d never let her out of my sight again.
“The exit...” Mia said.
She looked and sounded as if she were a thousand miles away. I got to my feet and followed her gaze. What I saw nearly brought me to tears.
We were back in the tunnel, but there was light. About a mile down was the mouth of the tunnel, and daylight pouring in. Beautiful daylight. I grabbed Mia tight and kissed her.
“Thank God...” she cried.
We started moving. Nothing was going to slow us down this time. We sped up into a RUN down the maintenance walkway towards that beautiful sunlight.
As we approached, something else came into view. Parked in the middle of the roadway was a large vehicle…
It couldn’t be…
It was!
Our RV sat in the road waiting for us. We ran all the way to it, pulled open the passenger side door and climbed in. There were no mannequins to be seen.
I fell into the driver’s seat and Mia handed me the keys. I turned over the engine, the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. I shifted into gear and floored it towards the sunlight.
As we got closer, I could see the green of trees and the blue of the sky. We were maybe one hundred yards away.
I turned to Mia, tears in my eyes…
And what I saw turned my blood to ice.
Just beyond Mia’s window, that horrifying pale face grinned at me.
The Pale Faced Woman was somehow floating outside of the RV.
Before I could say anything, her hand smashed through the window and gripped Mia by the throat, then in one horrible motion the thing PULLED MIA SCREAMING THROUGH THE WINDOW AND…
Disappeared…
I SLAMMED on the breaks just as the RV passed through the exit of the tunnel and sunlight flooded the cab of the RV. I threw it in park and shot out of the door screaming.
“Mia!? Mia??!!”
I screamed over and over. I rounded the front of the RV and looked back at the tunnel –
-- and what I saw shattered my mind…
The tunnel was gone.
There was only open road.
I had lost her.
submitted by do_not_look_4_door to nosleep [link] [comments]
Mia and I rented a small RV; more of a camper than a full blown RV. We packed up a couple suitcases with plenty of room for any souvenirs and we hit the dusty trail.
We started our journey on the “Mother Road”-- Route 66-- driving south from Chicago until we connected to i-70 and shot straight west through Missouri.
The goal was to see those parts of the country we had never seen before, stopping anywhere that seemed interesting. From the plains of Kansas up through the badlands of Wyoming and South Dakota.
In Missouri we saw the world’s largest cap gun. In Kansas we visited the Evel Knievel Museum and the World’s Largest Belt Buckle.
We love all those kitschy, tourist trap places.
Eventually, we made it to Colorado and after a few hours more of driving through amber waves of grain, we saw them... the Rocky Mountains.
We made an exit and headed north through the winding mountain highways.
The Rockies were gorgeous. Snow capped in the middle of summer, some of the peaks pierced through the white fluffy clouds.
We saw a sign that read “Traffic Tunnel - 3 Miles.”
A little further and sure enough, there it was, a large tunnel bored directly through the mountain in front of us.
A large sign read, “Pike Tunnel - Longest Traffic Tunnel in the Nation! - Please turn your headlights on now.”
“How long is it?” asked Mia.
“That’s what she said,” I quipped.
But she was right, there was no information beyond the detail that this was the longest tunnel in the nation.
“Can’t be more than a mile or two,” I said as I watched the little white car ahead of us slip into the darkness. A moment later we joined it.
The tunnel was lit by fluorescents that gave everything a greenish yellow tinge. On the left hand side was a raised walkway behind a railing for maintenance access.
Initially I was struck by the incredible amount of work that went into the construction of this man- made marvel.
“We’re under a million tons of rocky mountain right now,” I said.
“How many years before this caves in?” Mia responded.
I shot her a look--
“Let’s save the cave-in talk until we’re out on the other side.”
“I’m just saying, nature will take this back eventually,” she continued.
I scanned the empty road ahead of us.
“Where did the other car go?” I asked.
We were now alone in the tunnel, no cars ahead of us nor behind us.
“Huh... they must have sped off ahead. Maybe they’re scared of a cave-in?”
My Spotify playlist had stopped playing. Mia looked at the phone.
“No cell service.”
She turned on the radio and spun the dial only to find static.
“You’re not going to be able to pick up a station in here,” I said.
She turned the volume down.
“Just wanted to check... If only we had some CDs. This tunnel really keeps going.”
“I would have thought we’d be through it by now,” I replied.
I looked at the RV’s odometer, 45,600 miles. I picked up speed. I wanted to try and catch up to the little white car.
Up until this point, the tunnel was a straight shot, but now the tunnel started to curve to the right. It may have been my imagination but it also felt as though we were descending…
Mia felt it too and she started to get antsy.
“Where did that other car go? How long is this tunnel?”
There was an urgency in her voice.
I was getting nervous, claustrophobia was not usually a problem for me but when I looked down at the odometer and I saw that it had gone up by 3 miles, my mind began to wander to unsettling places.
We were descending in altitude. I could feel it. I could see a slope in the lights on the ceiling and the railing of the maintenance walkway. I could feel a pressure in my head, and I was getting cold.
“Could you grab me a coke from the back, Mia?”
I couldn’t have Mia getting anxious, that would only start a chain reaction and make me freak out which would then make her freak out.
She unbuckled and ducked into the back of the RV to where we had a cooler stocked with drinks and food.
Just as she stepped into the back, I saw something.
There standing on the side of the road was a MAN wearing a reflective safety vest and a hard hat. He was WAVING to me as I passed him by.
Something about him looked... strange…
I watched him in the side-view mirror as we passed and he was still watching the RV, still waving at the back of our vehicle as he faded into the distance.
Mia reappeared from the back of the RV, Coke in hand. She popped it and handed it to me.
“You look worried.”
“I’m fine,” I smiled and took a sip of the Coke.
“Eric, slow down!”
I slammed on the breaks as I saw what made Mia scream. In the road in front of us was a roadblock.
Two reflective traffic sawhorses blocked both lanes of the tunnel. Beyond the roadblock, the lights of the tunnel were dark. There was nothing but a void of blackness.
Standing in front of the roadblock was another man wearing a reflective vest and a hard hat, only this time his hard hat had a light on top which obscured his face.
We came to a jolting stop.
I turned to Mia
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s a cave-in isn’t it?”
“God, I hope not.”
I rolled down the window, leaned out and yelled to the man in the hard hat.
“Hey! What’s going on?!”
The man was about 5 yards away. He took two steps towards us and then raised a hand to his mouth and yelled.
“Just doing some maintenance!”
“How long is it going to take?!” I yelled back.
The man made a hand gesture as if he didn’t hear me.
“How long is it going to take?!” I called again.
He made the same gesture. I unbuckled my seat belt and grabbed the door release.
“What are you doing?” Mia asked.
“I gotta know what’s going on.”
“Eric, just stay here, it might not be safe.”
“I’ll be just a second,” I said.
I pushed the door open and stepped down from the RV.
“Stay in your vehicle!” the man yelled.
He took a couple steps towards me with his hand out telling me to stop.
“What’s the hold up?!” I shouted.
The man was a bit closer now but I still couldn’t see his face through the shining light on his helmet.
“Please stay in your vehicle!” he shouted.
There was something off about him.
Then I heard it–
“EEEAAAUUUUUUGHHHHHHHH!!!”
A scream, or something, rolled from deep in the tunnel. The worker turned and looked into the darkness. Then he ran past the barricades and soon all we could see of him was the light on his helmet.
The light disappeared a moment later.
“What the hell was that?! Is someone hurt?” Mia asked.
“I have no idea,” I said.
“Should we do something?” Mia asked.
I just sat there and watched the pitch black tunnel in front of me. I had no idea what to tell her. I checked the sideview mirrors. There was still nobody behind us.
“Where are the other cars?” I asked.
“They must have gotten through before the roadblock... Or maybe they caused the roadblock?” Mia replied.
“I saw another worker a little ways back. We could try to go back and talk to him.”
“We’d be going straight into any oncoming cars.”
“There’s a maintenance walkway. We didn’t pass him that long ago. We can probably catch him on foot.”
“Maybe we should just wait for the guy to come back.”
She reached over and grabbed my arm. I squeezed her hand.
She was right.
I looked out at the tunnel ahead of us. I turned on the RV’s high beams but all I could see beyond the roadblock was more tunnel and more road.
I checked my phone. Unsurprisingly, there was no service still.
We waited, but the man never came back.
“It’s been twenty minutes,” Mia said, “How come there hasn’t been another car behind us?
I was having the same thought. I rolled down my window and stuck my head out. I looked back at the road behind us. It went back about 200 yards before curving out of sight.
There was no sign of that first worker I saw on the maintenance walk way. I looked at the roadblock ahead of us and clicked on the RV’s high beams. There was nothing beyond the roadblock but more tunnel. It didn’t look like it was under construction, just very dark.
“I think we should keep going,” I said.
“What about the roadblock?”
“We’ll move those sawhorses out of the way and just drive past,” I said as I opened my door.
Mia looked at me, then she cast her eyes to the dark tunnel ahead of us. I knew she was processing the same limited options that I was.
Driving backwards would be a huge risk in the instance of another car finally coming along.
Getting out and walking would take God knows how long, we could have driven 10 miles at this point.
Forward was our best option.
“Let’s do it,” Mia said.
We jumped out and quickly pulled the two sawhorses out of the right lane. I pulled the RV up past the barriers, then we jumped out again and put the sawhorses back where they were. We didn't need another car to come barreling through.
We were finally moving again, slowly. It was pitch black save for the high beams of the RV.
We crept forward at around 15 miles per hour. As the tunnel turned and twisted, my eyes started to play tricks on me. I kept seeing shapes at the furthest point of the tunnel.
I kept seeing something standing just at the end of the next bend but as we roll forward, there was nothing there.
“Where are the workers?” Mia asked.
“I don’t know.”
I was done rationalizing. This was all wrong. Traffic tunnels are never this long.
My mind started to wander to all the road trip urban legends I’d read about; The Killer in the Backseat, The Disappearing Gas Station, The Pale Man In The Corn Field.
Did we stumble into some strange outlier location? An in-between point on the endless roads that cross this country?
Then I saw it–
“Look! A person! Thank god!” Mia shouted.
As we rounded a curve in the tunnel, a group of maintenance workers entered our view.
The three of them stood on the left side of the road behind two more sawhorses topped with flashing lights.
Two of them faced towards us, the third was facing the other two.
The one with his back to us wore a light on his hard hat. Was this the same guy we saw earlier? How did he get this far away?
I approached slowly and rolled down the window.
“Hey! You left us waiting back there!” I yelled.
There was no response.
In fact, all three men were completely silent, and it was hard to tell in the flashing light of the sawhorses, but they looked to be standing COMPLETELY STILL.
“Hello?!” I yelled again.
I pushed open my door and stepped out onto the pavement.
“Eric wait--”
I held up a finger to Mia.
“Just a second.”
I slowly stepped towards the 3 men.
“Hello?”
No response… What the fuck?
The bright lights of the sawhorses obscured their faces.
I kept moving closer.
“Hey, what’s going on--”
Then I saw it.
Their faces... They were plastic.
In front of me stood three mannequins.
I backed away toward the RV, then I turned and walked hurriedly to the vehicle.
I was seriously freaked out but I didn’t want to alarm Mia. I climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.
“They’re mannequins.” I said.
“What?”
“They’re mannequins.”
”Why?... What?...”
“I don’t know…”
I looked back over at the three figures and my blood ran cold…
The Hard Hat Mannequin had somehow TURNED AROUND to face us. All three figures appeared to be watching us now.
Then we heard it--
A loud resonant banging on the side, and then the roof of the RV.
“What the hell was that?” Mia whispered.
We listened, holding our breath. Then--
A shuffling sound--
Something was moving ON or IN the RV.
“Stay here.” I said.
I got up.
“Eric, wait!”
I moved to the back of the RV.
It was dark. I went for a drawer in the kitchenette space and pulled out a flashlight.
I moved to the rear of the RV, the bedroom. My flashlight illuminated an empty room.
“Whoever is back here, I have a gun…”
A shitty bluff. But I didn’t see anything.
I shone the light out of the windows of each side of the RV. Nothing.
Then I heard it–
A shuffling sound, from right above me.
I looked up and screamed–
“Fuck!”
On the roof of the RV, staring through the skylight was a woman with vacuous black eyes and a dead smile.
Her stringy black hair dangled down towards me casting thing black shadows across her horrible pale face.
“Mia, drive! Fast!” I screamed.
Mia JUMPED over to the driver’s seat, shifted into gear and STOMPED on the gas. The RV was clunky but it could move when it needed to.
We lurched forward and I fell back.
I trained my flashlight up onto the skylight again and the woman was gone.
I scrambled to my feet and looked out of the side windows.
Did Mia shake her off? There was no sign of the woman. I moved to the passenger seat, breathing heavily and sweating.
“What happened?” She asked, keeping the RV at a steady 50 mph.
“There was a woman on the roof,” I said flatly.
I realize now that I was in a kind of shock.
“A woman?”
“Her eyes were black.”
Mia just looked at me, then back at the tunnel ahead of us.
“There’s something wrong with this tunnel.” I whispered.
Mia pointed at the road ahead, “Look.”
I looked out at the tunnel. There were more mannequins. A LOT more mannequins. They were positioned on both sides of the road.
They were all facing us and even though I never saw them move, when I looked in the side-view mirror, they were somehow STILL facing us, turning to watch us as we drove past. Watching without eyes.
“Just keep driving.” I said.
As we drove on, the mannequins crowded the sides of the road more and more. There were thousands of them. Eventually they were so close that some of their outstretched arms hit the side of the RV.
They were closing in on us. Squeezing our path forward. One stood in the middle of the road.
“I don’t think i can get around it.”
“Run it over. Don’t stop.”
The RV smashed into the mannequin. Its head shot forward and bounced against the windshield and the vehicle shuddered as it rolled over the body.
Soon there were two in the road. Then three.
I could see where this was going. Pretty soon there would be too many for the RV to ram through, but goddammit we were going to get through as many as we could.
“Speed up, Mia.”
CRASH!
The sound was surreal, smashing into mannequin after mannequin at nearly 60 miles per hour.
Hands, legs, heads and torsos flew.
The windshield cracked, the RV shuddered and screamed and eventually slowed down, despite the screaming engine.
I’m certain the axle was jammed up with lifeless, plastic body parts. Eventually we came to a stop.
“She won’t move,” Mia said.
She pressed on the gas but it was no use, the RV just rocked a little bit.
“Try reverse.”
She shifted and pressed on the gas, we got some decent movement before running into another jam.
“Fuck.”
“Should we get out and look?” Mia asked.
“I’ll go,” I said as I grabbed the flashlight and popped the passenger door. Mia unbuckled her seatbelt.
“We’ll go together.”
We stumbled out of the RV on the passenger side. It was like stepping into Hell.
Countless, lifeless faces stared out at us from the darkness. The only light came from the headlights of the RV and my flashlight.
We clumsily made our way along the side of the RV. The ground was littered with mannequin pieces.
I thought to myself, if we could get a couple yards cleared out behind the rear tires, we might be able to back out and get enough momentum to reverse all the way back out of here.
Instead, when we got to the back of the RV, my stomach flipped and my heart sank.
I was expecting to see a trail of flattened mannequins, instead the RV was now surrounded by thousands of perfectly intact mannequins standing at attention. As if their ranks had some how been replenished after our vehicular assault.
“This is impossible.”
She started to cry. I held her close.
“We’ll keep moving.” I said.
“It will never end. The tunnel makes no sense. It only curves one direction.”
I looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“This whole time the tunnel has only been curving to the right. it would sometimes straighten out or go left for a few yards but before too long we were curving to the right again. We’ve either been driving in circles or spiraling downwards.”
“So we’ll go back the way we came and hope we’re not going in circles.” I said.
We had been driving for hours at this point. Walking back out the way we came would take days. But now that I thought about it, Mia was right, we’d only been curving to the right.
This tunnel seemed to be very gradually taking us downwards into the earth.
Going forward would not get us any closer to escape.
“We’ll need food from the RV,” Mia said.
I nodded and we stumbled our way back to the front of the RV, the mannequins’ lifeless faces watching us the whole time.
I stepped up to the passenger door and nearly fell back when I looked through the window.
“What the fuck?” I breathed.
What I saw were two mannequins sitting in the driver’s and passenger’s seat.
How they got in there? I have no idea, but what really made my blood run cold was that they were dressed EXACTLY like MIA and I.
They wore identical sets of clothes. The one in the passenger seat had my same New Order T-shirt and black jeans. The one in the driver’s seat had Mia’s green striped sweater and denim shorts.
Their plastic faces stared out through the shattered windshield at the endless crowd of mannequins staring back at them.
Mia stepped up and saw the uncanny display.
“What the fuck?” Mia echoed.
I pulled myself up into the RV and slowly stepped around my mannequin doppelgänger. I avoided looking into its face but I swear i could feel it watching me as I stumbled around it.
Mia followed and we made our way into the back of our dark RV. Luckily we had just stocked our cooler full of deli meat and water not long after crossing the Colorado state line.
I handed Mia the flashlight and pulled open the cooler. I filled a backpack full of food and water.
I turned and saw them–
My mannequin double had somehow moved. It was standing in the aisle watching us.
Mia’s doppelgänger was still seated in the driver’s seat but had turned to peer back at us with its eyeless gaze.
Mia saw the look in my eyes and turned. She screamed when she saw them and backed into me. I put my arm around her and we stood there a moment, letting our skyrocketing heart rates return to Earth.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said.
I slid the backpack onto my shoulders.
Mia joined me at the door. I looked into her eyes. “Are you ready?” She nodded. I kissed her.
“I love you,” I said.
“I love you,” she said.
The look on her face killed me. She was terrified. I’m sure the look on my face was similar.
I opened the door and we stepped out…
We again stumbled to the back of the RV. Once we were clear of the RV and all the crushed mannequin body parts, it became easier to find footing, though weaving through an endless crowd of lifeless people was a slow process.
It was pitch black. Without the flashlight we wouldn’t be able to see a foot in front of us.
As I walked, the beam of light created the illusion of movement in the crowd. At least I hoped it was an illusion.
The limbs of the mannequins seemed to stretch and turn, but the only sound was that of Mia and I shuffling our way through the crowded tunnel.
Things went on like this for what felt like hours. Mia and I were sweating and aching. I was about to suggest we stop and rest, but then I saw it and I froze…
Out in the crowd, beyond rows of blank faces I saw a pale face, black hair and a dead smile.
I saw two vacuous eyes staring right at me.
“Mia, do you see her?” I whispered.
“See who?”
I slowly raised my arm and pointed.
It was the woman, or whatever it was, that stared back at me through the skylight on the roof of the RV.
“Oh my god!” Mia squeaked.
I could see now that the Pale Faced Woman was tall. A few inches taller than the mannequins.
As I pointed, she stared back at me with that terrible grin.
“What do we do?” Mia whispered.
I raised the flashlight and pointed it right at the Pale Faced Woman. I thought maybe this would scare her off.
I was wrong.
The light only made her appear more unsettling as she stared back, unflinchingly.
“What do you want?!” I yelled.
She only stared back at me. She was as still as the mannequins.
“We have to keep going.” I whispered.
Mia didn’t respond. Her body was tense as she held onto me.
“We’ve come this far, we can’t turn back again,” I continued.
I pulled Mia’s hand and we continued on our way through the mannequins, keeping the distance between us and her as wide as possible.
As we moved past, she kept watching us. Though her movements were imperceptible to us, her eyes never left us. Like one of those portraits whose eyes appear to watch you no matter where you stand.
Finally, we got far enough that she was out of sight. But the thought of her being somewhere behind us only unsettled me further and I quickened our pace.
As the hours wore on, there was no sign of the Pale Faced Woman and the crowd of mannequins began to thin out. They still populated the tunnel from one end to the other, but there was more space between them, allowing Mia and I to walk more freely.
The mannequins on the maintenance walkway on the side of the tunnel seemed to thin out as well and I decided it would give us a better vantage if we were walking up there.
I helped Mia climb up the railing that bordered the walkway, then I climbed up behind her. The walkway was elevated 3 or 4 feet above the roadway. We could easily see over the heads of the mannequins in both directions.
There was, of course, no end to the tunnel in sight.
We kept walking.
The mannequins continued to thin out, but they were different now.
There were mannequins dressed as maintenance workers again, but also mannequins dressed as families and businessmen. There was even a group of mannequin nuns standing in a single file line, heads bowed in prayer.
Needless to say, we passed none of this on the way in to the tunnel. I was feeling very hopeless that we were going to be able to find our way out.
I was far beyond speculating how this was at all possible. It’s NOT possible. And even if it were, there is no good reason for someone to do this to us.
The only explanation was the supernatural. Then I saw Her. Rather, I saw THEM.
Arranged in the middle of the tunnel was a circle of mannequins with long black hair and tattered cloth.
They looked exactly like the Pale Faced Woman, minus any facial features. I kept a close watch on them as we passed to make sure they didn’t start following us.
“A door!” Mia shouted.
Mia pointed a few paces ahead of her. There was a door leading into the wall of the tunnel.
We ran towards it. Mia grabbed the handle, turned it and pulled. It was heavy and Mia had to brace her foot on the wall to get it moving.
The metal door groaned as if it hadn’t been opened in years.
Finally, it was open enough to see past.
It was a hallway. It went out about 5 yards then turned right at a 90 degree angle.
The strangest part was the design of the hallway.
It wasn’t cement or pavement like the tunnel.
The walls were wood paneled and the floor was covered in a thick carpet, like a house from the 1970s.
“I say we see where this takes us.” Mia said.
There was no reason to disagree, but I wasn’t going to get us trapped in there.
I opened up my backpack and took out a water bottle. I opened it and handed it to Mia. She drank half, then I drank the other half.
I slowly closed the door, shoving the empty water bottle in the crack to keep it from closing all the way.
I turned to Mia-- “Okay, let’s go.”
We slowly made our way down the quiet hallway. We got down to where the hallway cornered to the right and that’s when we heard it–
KA-CHUNK!!!--
I whipped around. The door had closed behind us. I ran back to it and tried to push it open, but it was no use. There was no way it closed on its own.
Someone had to have removed the water bottle. Our path had been chosen for us.
There was no turning back.
We continued down the hallway. We turned right. The hallway continued, then turned right again. That should have led us right back to the tunnel. But it didn’t. This part of the hallway went on far longer than was possible without running into the tunnel. Then it turned right again.
It went on like this. Sometimes a section of the hallway was 20 feet long, sometimes it was 20 yards long, sometimes it was 3 feet long. But it always turned to the right.
At first it was a relief to be somewhere other than the cold, dark tunnel. But the hallway very quickly became claustrophobic and before too long, I heard someone walking behind us.
We had stopped to take a break and I heard a third pair of footsteps on the carpet coming from behind us. I backtracked to the last corner.
I was terrified as I slowly peeked around the corner, tense and waiting to see the vacuous eyes and inky black hair of the Pale Faced Woman... but there was nothing there. I wasn’t about to backtrack any further.
“There was no one there.” I whispered.
Mia slumped against the wall and slid down to the carpet.
“I think I need to rest.” She said.
I put my backpack down on the ground for Mia to use as a pillow. She laid her head down and was passed out in seconds.
I had no idea how long we had been walking at this point. I stood leaning against the wall. My body was telling me to rest but I couldn’t risk falling asleep. I had to keep watch. I knew SHE was following us.
I took in the details of the hallway for the first time. The carpet was a dull brown and the walls a cheap wood paneling. The hanging lighting fixtures were shaded by stained glass, something you might see in an old diner.
Who built this place? Did someone pick out the carpet and the lighting fixtures? Did a team of workers blast these tunnels into the Earth? Or has this place always existed? Was this Purgatory?
I began to feel dizzy. I was panicking. My heart felt like it was trying to escape my chest. I slumped to the floor and tried to slow my breathing.
I closed my eyes... –
I SHOT up in a panic. I had fallen asleep while I was meant to be keeping watch.
I snapped to my feet and looked around.
Mia was still asleep on my backpack.
Then I noticed that the hallway had changed. A few paces away there was now a plain wooden door in the wall.
I slowly approached it. I put my ear to the door and I could hear what sounded like TV static and the low murmur of voices.
I discreetly grabbed the door handle and turned it slowly. I felt the latch bolt clear and I carefully cracked the door just enough to peek inside.
It was dark, so it took a second for me to register what I was seeing. I saw a small board room. A long table in the center was surrounded by seated men in suits.
At the end of the table stood another man next to an old CRT TV that was playing static. This was the only source of light in the room and all the men around the table were turned towards the tv.
Suddenly the screen flickered from static to a solid dark background. And some warped new age style muzak began playing.
Then the words appeared on the screen that terrified me like nothing else before. In plain text the words read–
“YOU WILL LOSE HER.”
I froze as I knew these words were meant for me I watched with terror as the men seated around the table slowly turned toward me in unison.
They were mannequins.
The TV screen then clicked off and they continued staring at me as I could barely make out their forms through the near pitch darkness.
I quickly pulled the door shut. And whipped around to look at Mia, I had a horrible feeling of dread that when I turned around she would be gone, like the message on the TV promised–
“Eric? What are you doing?” Mia was leaning up and staring at me.
Thank God. There was Mia, right where I left her.
I pointed at the door and said, “This door appeared and I--”
“What door?” she interrupted.
I turned and sure enough, the door was now gone.
I explained what happened to her, but I left out the message that appeared on the screen.
-- YOU WILL LOSE HER –
Those words still burned in my brain. I tried to force them out.
We drank water, ate granola and then got moving again.
Hallways. Endless hallways.
After a couple hours of walking we started to hear music. There were small speakers in the corners of the ceiling.
I recognized it as the same new-age muzak that played on the TV in the board room. The melody drilled into our minds. Combined with the dull aesthetics of the quiet hallways and the endless right turns, the music had a hypnotizing effect.
The lengths of the halls became more uniform. That is to say, the straight section of hallway was about 7 paces, then a right turn, then 7 paces and a right turn.
“I think we’re walking in circles... or a square,” Mia said.
I looked at her and took out a bottle of water. I peeled off the plastic label and dropped it on the floor.
Then we kept walking.
7 paces, right turn. 7 paces, right turn. 7 paces, right turn. And there it was... Mia was right.
The label from my water bottle lay in the middle of the hallway. Somehow we had been led into a loop. I lost it.
“FUUUCK!”
I kicked the wall repeatedly and screamed. Mia just leaned her back against the wall.
This was our dynamic. If one of us lost it, the other became zen and thought of a solution. More often than not, I was the one to lose it.
I finally stopped freaking out
“There has to be a way out. A door,” Mia said.
“We would have seen it,” I replied.
“A hidden door,” she said.
She turned around and ran her hands along the cracks of the wood paneling.
“Most likely on the outer wall,” she said.
She beat her fist on the wall, listening for a change in the sound. I exhaled heavily, sweating and tired, and I started searching the wall as well.
We checked the whole first wall, nothing. We checked the second wall, nothing. The third, nothing.
The final wall... Nothing. I gave up and slumped on the floor. Mia immediately went over to the other side of the hall and started checking the inner wall.
“What are you doing? I thought you said it would be on the outer wall?” I asked.
Then we heard it.
Mia beat the wall and instead of the dead thud, we heard a resonate BOOM –
A door…
I shot up and started tapping the wall with Mia until we found where the door ended. It was the width of about 4 wooden panels. I lined myself up in the center, lowered my shoulder and pushed–
IT MOVED! It barely moved but it was enough to confirm this actually was a door! I re-centered and tried again, lowering my center of gravity, I pushed as hard as I could. The door pushed inward about 3 inches, then Mia joined in. We slowly moved the door, 5 inches, then 10, then 15, then 20.
Then Mia slipped inside.
I had a moment of panic as she disappeared into the darkness and those haunting words came back into my mind, “YOU WILL LOSE HER.”
I darted past the doorway, falling through the threshold and hitting the concrete floor.
I looked up and there was Mia, thank God. I promised myself I’d never let her out of my sight again.
“The exit...” Mia said.
She looked and sounded as if she were a thousand miles away. I got to my feet and followed her gaze. What I saw nearly brought me to tears.
We were back in the tunnel, but there was light. About a mile down was the mouth of the tunnel, and daylight pouring in. Beautiful daylight. I grabbed Mia tight and kissed her.
“Thank God...” she cried.
We started moving. Nothing was going to slow us down this time. We sped up into a RUN down the maintenance walkway towards that beautiful sunlight.
As we approached, something else came into view. Parked in the middle of the roadway was a large vehicle…
It couldn’t be…
It was!
Our RV sat in the road waiting for us. We ran all the way to it, pulled open the passenger side door and climbed in. There were no mannequins to be seen.
I fell into the driver’s seat and Mia handed me the keys. I turned over the engine, the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. I shifted into gear and floored it towards the sunlight.
As we got closer, I could see the green of trees and the blue of the sky. We were maybe one hundred yards away.
I turned to Mia, tears in my eyes…
And what I saw turned my blood to ice.
Just beyond Mia’s window, that horrifying pale face grinned at me.
The Pale Faced Woman was somehow floating outside of the RV.
Before I could say anything, her hand smashed through the window and gripped Mia by the throat, then in one horrible motion the thing PULLED MIA SCREAMING THROUGH THE WINDOW AND…
Disappeared…
I SLAMMED on the breaks just as the RV passed through the exit of the tunnel and sunlight flooded the cab of the RV. I threw it in park and shot out of the door screaming.
“Mia!? Mia??!!”
I screamed over and over. I rounded the front of the RV and looked back at the tunnel –
-- and what I saw shattered my mind…
The tunnel was gone.
There was only open road.
I had lost her.
2024.05.21 22:00 aes100 Accumulating rows of table?
Hello, I am working on an excel workbook. I tried UNIQUE and SUMIF but couldn't get it working. Would you recommend me different formulas and functions?
The data is entered into Sheet 1. Sheet 1 contains empty rows. Sheet 2 and 3 are generated from Sheet 1.
Sheet 2 is simpler. When the values in column A (which are dates) are same, the values in column C should be accumulated into a cell in Sheet 2.
Sheet 3 is more complex than Sheet 2. This time, the values need to be accumulated when the values in column B are same but different dates should not be accumulated, as if accumulation criteria is "when the two cells in the columns A and B are same" instead of "when the cell A are same".
Also, how can I do recalculate Sheet 2 and 3 as new data is entered to the Sheet 1?
Below I created three tables to demonstrate better what I am trying to achieve. Please overlook the dummy values in the Date column.
Sheet 1
Sheet 2
Sheet 3
submitted by aes100 to excel [link] [comments]
The data is entered into Sheet 1. Sheet 1 contains empty rows. Sheet 2 and 3 are generated from Sheet 1.
Sheet 2 is simpler. When the values in column A (which are dates) are same, the values in column C should be accumulated into a cell in Sheet 2.
Sheet 3 is more complex than Sheet 2. This time, the values need to be accumulated when the values in column B are same but different dates should not be accumulated, as if accumulation criteria is "when the two cells in the columns A and B are same" instead of "when the cell A are same".
Also, how can I do recalculate Sheet 2 and 3 as new data is entered to the Sheet 1?
Below I created three tables to demonstrate better what I am trying to achieve. Please overlook the dummy values in the Date column.
Sheet 1
| / | A | B | C |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | Date | Label | Value |
| 2 | 11.11.1111 11:11 | Label 1 | 1 |
| 3 | 11.11.1111 11:11 | Label 2 | 10 |
| 4 | 11.11.1111 11:11 | Label 1 | 111 |
| 5 | blank | blank | blank |
| 6 | 22.22.2222 22:22 | Label 2 | 2 |
| 7 | 22.22.2222 22:22 | Label 1 | 20 |
| 8 | 22.22.2222 22:22 | Label 2 | 200 |
| / | A | B |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | Date | Sum |
| 2 | 11.11.1111 11:11 | 111 |
| 3 | 22.22.2222 22:22 | 222 |
| / | A | B | C |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | Date | Label | Sum |
| 2 | 11.11.1111 11:11 | Label 1 | 101 |
| 3 | 11.11.1111 11:11 | Label 2 | 10 |
| 4 | 22.22.2222 22:22 | Label 1 | 20 |
| 5 | 22.22.2222 22:22 | Label 2 | 202{ |
2024.05.21 21:10 BleepBlimpBop $RILY DD: Long List of Short Seller Claims --- DEBUNKED with proof!
Ever-shifting Short Seller Claims
The short sellers attacking RILY in 2023-2024 have been relentless (currently 57% of float sold short per FinViz), with an ever-shifting list of wild accusations.It's sickening to watch them compile a never-ending list of baseless wild theories and claims to support their short positions, which are demonstrably false. But as each is proved false, they pivot to new claims, and/or change the goalposts.
The sheer volume of shifting claims makes it hard to track how despotic they are with their "platform," and how many falsehoods they've spun. Even for someone who watched it in real-time, for almost a year
Compiled & Debunked
Sunlight kills vampires. To that end, I've compiled a list of (i) claimants (ii) claims (iii) reality (iv) definitive source proving reality.Why Did They Target RILY?
One of the most vocal short sellers, Nate Koppikar (who also introduced Marc Cohodes to the "opportunity") has a fund Orso Partners. Based on their SEC registration document, this is their investment thesis:"The Account’s investment objectives are to achieve capital appreciation primarily by identifying and selling short marketable equity securities of underfollowed and complex companies with misleading or corrective disclosures through a research-intensive process. The Account employs a short-biased investment strategy with an emphasis on primarily small to mid-cap companies that are underfollowed and complex (i.e., companies with market capitalizations of less than $5 billion which the market does not yet have a wellformed bull and/or bear perspective)."
RILY fits their description. The icing on the cake was the relatively large market cap, and the relatively small float. Given extremely high insider ownership (32.9% of shares per the proxy), and limitations on when and how insiders can trade, the "free float" of the stock (i.e., the shares that regularly trade) is very small for the size of the company. Moreover, the setup would only get better - given insiders have consistently used their free cash to buy additional shares hand-over-fist (further reducing the float).
That meant, with relatively small amounts of capital, the short sellers could shove around the stock price. That ability to move price opens another profit avenue - taking large derivative positions (buying puts, and selling calls), and shoving the price (or allowing it to drift up) to profit all along the way. It looked so good, the stock has been the highest-shorted on the US indices for several months. Even after the release of the 10-K, shares remain "hard to borrow" with elevated borrow fees.
Debunked Claims
The claims made by vocal short sellers could fill a book. Most were outrageous and fanciful when they were proposed. Virtually all have objectively debunked. This isn't a comprehensive list, as their claims are too numerous and varied. But it paints an illuminating picture.With a track record this poor, one would expect the short sellers to exit - rather than continuing to spin new narratives. Perhaps the continued attacks are their exit strategy to avoid bankruptcy... Well, #Bullish.
With the highest short interest of all US stocks (albeit likely decreased from the highs of ~76% of the float), I think this is more than ripe for a return to fair value - or well above, if a short squeeze occurs.
Note: this sub disallows image posts. There is a similar post in the RILYStock sub which contains virtually all source images for the claim in the comments (too many images to embed in the post). The source images are illuminating.
Note that the list below deliberately excludes three types of posts/claims from the short sellers:
A) Juvenile personal attacks and attempts to character assassinate and dox a long list of people (RILY CEO, RILY new hires, RILY clients, Marcum the auditor, Marcum's lead audit professional, any firm or individual publicly posting a bull thesis on RILY, etc.).
B) Those that make no objective claims, but simply exist as a product of malicious degeneracy (like pictures of roasted pigs in ovens labeled Bryant Riley the CEO, photoshopped pictures of the CEO in prison chains next to convicted felons, video of an obese woman barely able to walk being gored by a bull labeled Mrs. Riley the CEO's wife, etc.).
C) Those that are impossible for short sellers to know, and impossible to objectively verify (e.g., Marc Cohodes claiming a single RILY trader front runs the CEOs personal short trades in front of clients taking following the firm's bullish advice on those stocks, to guarantee profits).
| Claimant | Claim | Reality |
|---|---|---|
| 1) Wolfpack | Wolfpack “RILY will record investment losses of up to ~$700 million in 2023” FALSE 10-K | FALSE |
| 2) Wolfpack | “new loan to CORZQ will work out just as badly as the last and end in default (again) before June 2023” | Repaid in fullFALSE , early, on 1/6/2024. |
| 3) Wolfpack | “The coupon rate on RILY’s seven issues of baby bonds ranges from 5% to 6.75%, which we believe to be far too low to compensate investors for the existential risk that accompanies these securities.” | Full redemption FALSE of May 2024 came early. Far more than sufficient cash to cover debt payments. |
| 4) Wolfpack | “According to our analysis, 4 of RILY’s largest 7 corporate borrowers with outstanding loan balances of $295.3 million are at a high risk of default, or in the case of CORZQ, is already in default.” | Core Scientific IncExela Technologies Arena Group Holdings FALSE a. . repaid early and in full ($111MM of the “risk”) b. repaid term loan in full ($55.8MM of the “risk”) c. debt retired in full ($99MM of the “risk”). Publicly disclosed in the most recent 10-K for each company (search for "Riley" in the filing) |
| 5) Wolfpack | “RILY’s NAV is Far Below the $1.1 Billion Minimum NAV Requirement That Is Required for the Nomura Credit Agreement Putting RILY at Risk of Collapse in 2023” | is in full compliance FALSE RILY with the Nomura credit agreement. Moreover, reflecting the strength of the relationship, Nomura even granted a no-fee extension when the 10-K filing was delayed. Also see 10-K for current status. |
| 6) Wolfpack | “Over $200 Million of the Goodwill and Intangible Assets on RILY’s Balance Sheet is Attributable to its Telecom Rollup, which is Centered on Dial-up and DSL Internet:” - criticizing them as dying businesses with no value | extremely valuableFALSE Segment is . From just 2020 to 2023, the communications segment has returned over $212.2MM in adjusted EBITDA. |
| 7) Nate Koppikar (TheFriendlyBear) + Bill Abbate Jr. (JrAbbate), Various | RILY committed fraud with loans and closing the FRG acquisition. "The fact $RILY closed the FRG deal while hiding the Kahn loan - an all PIK defaulted loan backed by $FRG shares - is a Hall of Fame worthy act of fraud. I thought after Enron/Sarbox we couldn't have something like this happen in US markets." | FALSE A law firm led an internal investigation, and an independent external investigation both found “The review confirmed what the Company previously disclosed: that the Company and its executives, including Bryant Riley, had no involvement with, or knowledge of, any of the alleged misconduct concerning Prophecy.” “The results of the independent investigation confirmed that the Company and its executives had no involvement with, or knowledge of, any of the alleged misconduct concerning Mr. Kahn or any of his affiliates. This independent investigation was conducted subsequent to the Company's February 22, 2024 disclosure of the internal review performed with the assistance of Sullivan & Cromwell LLP as outside counsel.” Also see 10-K |
| 8) Marc Cohodes (AlderlaneEggs), ParrotCapital, Bill Abbate Jr. (JrAbbate), Various | The 10-K will never be filed. They can't produce audited financials. | Audited 10-K FALSE was filed. Delay was due to Audit committee fulfilling its responsibilities and proactively conducting investigations (internal and external). |
| 9) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs) + Nate Koppikar (TheFriendlyBear) + Bill Abbate Jr. (JrAbbate) + ParrotCapital | Sullivan and Cromwell knew about Massive Fraud, and did a "sham investigation" | Sullivan and Cromwell FALSE is one of the most respected law firms, in the US and worldwide. "Sullivan & Cromwell continues to lead all law firm advisers in announced and completed global deals in 2023, according to Bloomberg and LSEG. The Firm advised on global announced deals totaling more than $345 billion, representing a 12.1 percent market share, per Bloomberg, and on completed global deals totaling more than $431 billion, representing a 16.9 percent market share, per LSEG." They're not compromising themselves for a relatively small client. |
| 10) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs), Nate Koppikar (TheFriendlyBear), Bill Abbate Jr. (JrAbbate), Parrot Capital | Marcum is enabling Massive Fraud | MarcumFALSE is a respected audit firm, and 13th largest by revenue. "Marcum LLP advanced into the Top 15 in the 2023 Vault Accounting list of top-ranked accounting firms. Marcum climbed six levels to the No. 13 ranking overall and earned a ranking of 14 in prestige. The Firm also won Top 20 rankings across all Practice Area, Quality of Life, and Diversity categories, including several new classifications added this year." |
| 11) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs) | Nomura is enabling Massive Fraud | NomuraFALSE is a global financial services company, and the oldest brokerage firm in Japan. They operate in a highly regulated industry. They're not putting themselves on the line for a relatively small client. |
| 12) Parrot Capital | "The list of $RILY enablers is massive: Marcum LLP, Sullivan and Cromwell, Seeking Alpha, Holbrook Holdings, $AX Axos Bank, Many, many more." | FALSE There's no global conspiracy whereby these companies - all respected law firms, auditors, banks, and media outlets - are collectively colluding to enable RILY to commit fraud. Requires only two brain cells and one functioning synapse to know there's no grand collusion cabal between these disparate companies. |
| 13) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs), Jonathan Weil at WSJ | Franchise Group shares used to secure Kahn loan: "It is unclear whether Kahn pledged the same shares twice—to both Prophecy and B. Riley." | stated by the company UCC search FALSE As , Simple disproves this. UCC # 202302295747 |
| 14) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs) | “Bryant Riley is on the Road, telling people the ‘audit partner at Marcum left’ and that ‘I have made mistakes’ “ | hit the 5yr SEC ruleFALSE Marcum audit partner was working on the audit the whole time; the original audit partner had , so he was never working on this year’s audit. |
| 15) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs) | "So it turns out James La Rocca was Fired by MarcumLLP If nothing was wrong with prior $RILY Audits, why is he gone? This will be great in discovery of what exactly went on. | hit the 5yr SEC ruleFALSE Marcum audit partner was working on the audit the whole time; the original audit partner had , so he was never working on this year’s audit. |
| 16) Koppikar (TheFriendlyBear) | “So Bryant Riley did disseminate MNPI back in March” in response to Cohodes claim that he told people the Marcum partner left | 5 consecutive yearsFALSE Cohodes claimed Bryant Riley was telling people the Marcum auditor left. Koppikar called that disseminating MNPI. Cohodes statement was false (and thus Koppikar's derivate claim is also false). A different auditor worked on RILY, as Marcum follows the SEC rules; the lead auditor can only serve the client for . As such, Koppikar’s derivative claim of disseminating MNPI is false. |
| 17) Koppikar (TheFriendlyBear) | “He appears to still not be familiar with the voting interest model of consolidation… why is a life science and tech partner signing an extremely complex investment company / broker dealer audit ???” i.e., auditor is unqualified | Marcum is a highly respected auditorFALSE The auditor is fully qualified. ; they don't hire unqualified people, or assign them to clients they're unqualified to audit. RILY is continuing to use Marcum as the 2024 auditor. |
| 18) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs) | "Now that the $RILY dividend is going away, this omission is serious stuff" | reduced 24Q1FALSE The dividend did not go away. It was from $1.00/share to $0.50/share, to allow them to opportunistically allocate capital. 23Q4 and |
2024.05.21 21:04 ebudd08 [US - UT][H] Sega Dreamcast, Saturn, Nintendo Wii(U), (3)DS, Game Boy (Color, Advance), NES, SNES, Xbox (360), PlayStation (2, 3) -- Games, Consoles, Accessories [W] PayPal
Dropped a bunch of prices, I'd really love to offload this stuff as it's just sitting in a tote in my garage and I hate it. Shipping is not included unless noted. Please offer on bundles, I'm really inclined to move as much of this stuff as I possibly can and will offer better deals the more you buy.
On everything $5 & under, consider it 3 for $10, 5 for $15, 20 for $50
All clean, but untested (I don't have a Saturn console)
2 SNS-001 Consoles For Parts/Not Working 2 For Parts/Not Working consoles that have been broken down, including one housing (has some chips/cracks), 2 motherboards, all components, however some are guaranteed to not work. The boards themselves may have additional issues beyond the removed chips, I have no way to test or check them. Neither of these motherboards work. Both of them were giving different graphical issues on the screen, so I thought I'd be clever and try to swap some chips around, but found out as I was doing it that I have no experience with it and was in way over my head. I do not know if there are working chips here to even create one working SNES, as far as I'm aware all of the graphics chips/etc. are bad. Pics here $35
Feel free to take all Game Boy/ColoAdvance games for $30+shipping
Please note - most of these games are not complete - either missing manual, replacement case/cover art, or loose disc. Please check with me if you're curious.
Thanks for looking!
submitted by ebudd08 to GameSale [link] [comments]
On everything $5 & under, consider it 3 for $10, 5 for $15, 20 for $50
| Title | CIB/loose | Price/Notes |
|---|---|---|
| 3 controllers | Loose | $20 each - 2 white OEM, one green Performance-branded |
| Memory card | Loose | $10 - Performance-brand |
| Centipede | Loose | $6 - Good condition |
| Chicken Run | CIB | $13 - Good condition |
| Crazy Taxi | CIB | $20 - Sega All Stars |
| Dave Mirra Freestyle BMX | CIB | $6 - Good condition |
| Disney’s Dinosaur | CIB | $13 - Good condition |
| Jeremy McGrath Supercross 2000 | Loose | $8 - Good condition |
| NFL Blitz 2001 | CIB | $35 - Good condition |
| Quake 3 Arena | CIB | $20 - Good condition |
| Resident Evil CODE Veronica | Loose | $20 - Includes both discs in a kind of broken jewel case thing |
| Sega Bass Fishing | CIB | $8 - Sega All Stars |
| Sega Smash Pack Volume 1 | Loose | $10 - Includes case, no manual, decent condition |
| Shenmue | CIB | $30 - Cracked bottom of jewel case (the plastic piece) |
| SnoCross Championship Racing | CIB | $10 - Good condition |
| Tomb Raider: Chronicles | CIB | $18 - Good condition |
| Vigilante 8 2nd Offense | CIB | $22 - Good condition |
| Virtua Fighter 3tb | Loose | $15 - Good condition |
All clean, but untested (I don't have a Saturn console)
| Title | Notes | Price |
|---|---|---|
| Bootleg Sampler | Loose | $5 |
| Iron Man X-O Manowar in Heavy Metal | Loose | $8 |
| Sega Worldwide Soccer ‘97 | Loose | $6 |
| Tomb Raider | Loose | $12 |
| Virtua Cop | Loose | $5 |
| World Series Baseball ‘98 | Loose | $6 |
| Title | Console | Price/notes |
|---|---|---|
| Bandai Golf Pebble Beach Challenge | NES | $3 |
| Days of Thunder | NES | $6 |
| Double Dribble | NES | $6 |
| Knight Rider | NES | $8 Pics |
| Side Pocket | NES | $6 |
| The Simpsons: Bart vs. the World | NES | $10 Pics |
| Slalom | NES | $7 |
| Title | Console | Price/notes |
|---|---|---|
| D Force | SNES | $6 |
| Frogger | SNES | $8 |
| Metal Combat | SNES | $8 Pics |
| MVP Baseball | SNES | $5 |
| NBA Live 95 | SNES | $5 |
| Tuff E Nuff | SNES | $10 Pics |
| Title | Console | Price/notes |
|---|---|---|
| A Bug's Life | GB | $5 |
| All-Star Baseball 2000 | GBC | $5 |
| Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 3 | GBC | $5 - Bad label |
| Demon Driver | GBA | $6 |
| Rayman Advance | GBA | $6 |
| Smuggler's Run | GBA | $4 |
| Treasure Planet | GBA | $5 |
| Winter X Games Snowboarding 2002 | GBA | $3 |
| World Tennis Stars | GBA | $3 |
| Title | Console | Price/notes |
|---|---|---|
| Barbie: Jet, Set & Style | NDS | $3 - Loose |
| Castlevania: Dawn of Sorrow | NDS | $22 - Loose, no label, authentic |
| Deal or No Deal | NDS | $4 - CIB |
| Games Around the World | NDS | $4 - CIB |
| Horsez | NDS | $4 - CIB |
| Imagine: Fashion Designer | NDS | $4 - CIB |
| Imagine: Fashion Stylist | NDS | $4 - CIB |
| Jeopardy | NDS | $5 - CIB |
| MahJong Quest | NDS | $4 - CIB |
| My Farm | NDS | $4 - CIB |
| Pictionary | NDS | $5 - Sealed |
| Winx Club Magical Fairy Party | NDS | $6 - CIB |
| Cooking Mama: Sweet Shop | 3DS | $16 - CIB |
| Harvest Moon 3D: The Lost Valley | 3DS | $16 - Loose |
| Title | Console | Price/notes |
|---|---|---|
| Accessory OEM Controller | Xbox | $10 - have 2, both model S for original Xbox, both have breakaway cables |
| Burnout 3 | Xbox | $6 |
| Call of Duty 2: Big Red One | Xbox | $5 |
| Gun | Xbox | $5 |
| Juiced | Xbox | $6 |
| Superman Returns | Xbox | $5 |
| Unreal Championship 2: The Liandri Conflict | Xbox | $5 |
| Call of Duty: Modern Warfare | 360 | $6 |
| Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 | 360 | $6 |
| Ghost Recon 2 | 360 | $5 |
| Guitar Hero 2 | 360 | $8 |
| Guitar Hero 3: Legends of Rock | 360 | $8 |
| Guitar Hero 3: Legends of Rock | 360 | $8 |
| Guitar Hero: Aerosmith | 360 | $12 |
| MLB 2K9 | 360 | $5 |
| NBA 2K12 | 360 | $5 |
| Ridge Racer 6 | 360 | $8 Pics |
| Title | Console | Price/notes |
|---|---|---|
| Treasures of the Deep | PS1 | $12 - CIB |
| Wargames: Defcon 1 | PS1 | $10 - CIB |
| Warhawk | PS1 | $12 - CIB, longbox, not in great shape |
| American Chopper | PS2 | $4 - CIB |
| Arctic Thunder | PS2 | $6 - CIB |
| Cabela's Big Game Hunter 2005 | PS2 | $3 - CIB |
| Call of Duty: Finest Hour | PS2 | $4 - CIB |
| Call of Duty: Finest Hour | PS2 | $4 - CIB |
| Crash n' Burn | Ps2 | $6 - CIB |
| Eragon | PS2 | $4 - CIB |
| Flatout | PS2 | $6 - CIB |
| Flatout | PS2 | $5 - Loose |
| The Getaway | PS2 | $6 - CIB |
| The Getaway | PS2 | $4 - Loose |
| Gran Turismo 3 | PS2 | $5 - GH CIB |
| Guitar Hero 2 | PS2 | $4 - CIB |
| Hitman 2 | PS2 | $5 - CIB |
| IHRA Drag Racing 2 | PS2 | $3 - CIB |
| Kingdom Hearts 2 | PS2 | $5 - Loose |
| Madden 07 | PS2 | $3 - CIB |
| MX vs ATV | PS2 | $3 - Loose |
| NAMCO Museum | PS2 | $6 - GH CIB |
| NBA 2K9 | PS2 | $5 - CIB |
| PopCap Hits Vol. 1 | PS2 | $5 - CIB |
| Rise to Honor | PS2 | $6 - CIB |
| Smuggler's Run | PS2 | $6 - CIB |
| SOCOM 2 | PS2 | $5 - CIB |
| Splinter Cell | PS2 | $4 - CIB |
| Starksy & Hutch | PS2 | $5 - CIB |
| Strike Force Bowling | PS2 | $4 - CIB |
| Tetris Worlds | PS2 | $5 - CIB |
| Tiger Woods PGA Tour 2002 | PS2 | $2 - Loose |
| Tiger Woods PGA Tour 2005 | PS2 | $2 - Loose |
| Tiger Woods PGA Tour 2006 | PS2 | $2 - Loose |
| TOCA Race Driver 2 | PS2 | $6 - CIB |
| Trigger Man | PS2 | $4 - CIB |
| World Championship Poker | PS2 | $4 - CIB |
| Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3 | PS3 | $5 - CIB |
| Grand Theft Auto IV | PS3 | $7 - Loose |
| Killzone 3 | PS3 | $5 - CIB |
| Mortal Kombat vs DC Universe | PS3 | $7 - CIB |
| Rocksmith 2014 | PS3 | $8 - CIB |
| Skyrim | PS3 | $4 - CIB |
| Sports Champions | PS3 | $4 - CIB |
| Title | Console | Price/notes |
|---|---|---|
| LEGO Star Wars: The Complete Saga | Wii | $5 - CIB |
| The Price is Right | Wii | $4 - Loose |
| Wii Play | Wii | $5 - CIB |
| Wii Play | Wii | $5 - CIB |
| Skylanders | WiiU | $4 - Case |
| Skylanders | WiiU | $4 - Case |
| LEGO Dimensions | WiiU | $4 - Case |
2024.05.21 20:39 Thibaults UniFi POE Chime Setting
I noticed that in the setting for the POE chime there is a setting for Mobile Dashboard Widget. If this for my cell or im I misunderstanding their label. I activated it but not sure what to choose on my phone to make it happen.
submitted by Thibaults to Ubiquiti [link] [comments]
2024.05.21 20:15 goingtoeat Don't forget to return your Cell Spot!
Hey all! In preparation for tomorrow's big announcement, I just called T-Mobile customer service to initiate a return for my old CellSpot (I haven't used it since 2021).
Make sure to take care of this because if you cancel service and not return it, they'll charge you a couple hundred (from what I have heard online).
Also, I didn't get a return label, but rather have to wait for a return kit. So the process will definitely take up to a week to fully complete.
submitted by goingtoeat to tmobile [link] [comments]
Make sure to take care of this because if you cancel service and not return it, they'll charge you a couple hundred (from what I have heard online).
Also, I didn't get a return label, but rather have to wait for a return kit. So the process will definitely take up to a week to fully complete.
2024.05.21 19:29 healthmedicinet Health Daily News May 20 2024
DAY: MAY 20 2024
5-20-2024
5-20-2024 Yoga and meditation-induced altered states of consciousness are common in the general population, study says
Yoga, mindfulness, meditation, breathwork, and other practices are gaining in popularity due to their potential to improve health and well-being. The effects of these practices are mostly positive and occasionally transformational, yet they are known to sometimes be associated with challenging altered states of consciousness. New research by a team including investigators from Massachusetts General Hospital reveals that altered states of consciousness associated with meditation practice are far more common than expected. Although many people reported positive outcomes, that were sometimes even considered transformational, from these experiences, for a substantial
5-20-2024 Examining the benefits of out-of-network care for pediatric moyamoya
Total in-episode expenses and resource use before the index surgery (preop) and including/after the surgery (postop). The comparisons are separated for analysis into (A) single institution cohorts (1 and 2) and (B) multi?institution cohorts (3 and 4). Moyamoya disease is a rare condition that affects the blood vessels in the brain, especially in children. Narrowing and blockage of vessels significantly increases the risk of stroke and requires surgical revascularization for treatment. Although research shows that outcomes of revascularization are better
5-20-2024 Study explores links between social media use, mental health and sleep quality
The more time you spend on social media, the greater the likelihood of having unpleasant social-media related dreams that cause distress, sleep disruption and impact our peace of mind. Flinders University’s Reza Shabahang says that the vast and rapid adoption of social media has the potential to influence various aspects of life, including the realm of dreaming. “As social media becomes increasingly intertwined with our lives, its impact extends beyond waking hours, and may influence our dreams,”
5-20-2024 How are asthma and heart health linked?
Although the heart and lungs are neighbors in your chest, people may think of them as separate entities with unrelated problems. But a growing body of evidence suggests that asthma—one of the most common lung disorders—is a risk factor for cardiovascular disease. Asthma is a serious chronic disease in which airways are inflamed, often in response to specific triggers. It affects about 25 million people in the U.S., including nearly 5 million children, causing millions of annual visits to doctors’ offices and emergency rooms. “We call these major changes
5-20-2024 STUDY EXPLORES PATIENT TRUST IN PHYSICIANS
Trust in one’s physician drives positive health practices. In a scoping review, SUNY Poly Professor of Sociology Dr. Linda R. Weber discovered new developments in the measurement of trust, identified those measures of trust that have known reliability and validity, and compared those instruments’ conceptualizations, dimensions, and indicators. The paper is published in the journal PLOS ONE. Weber explains that 10 dimensions emerged from the study: fidelity, technical competence, communicative competence, interpersonal competence (i.e., caring), honesty, confidentiality, global, behavioral, fairness, and system trust/accountability. In addition, these findings provide the foundation
5-20-2024 TIMESAVING TIPS FOR COOKING HEALTHY MEALS
Living a busy, fast-paced life can make it hard to find the motivation to cook a healthy meal at home. However, learning some shortcuts in the kitchen can keep your healthy eating goals on track and help you avoid grazing on unhealthy snacks, grabbing the first thing you see in the fridge or going out for fast food. Why cook at home? Research shows that maintaining a healthy weight is challenging when you eat out too frequently. Restaurant portions often are super-sized
5-20-2024 UNDERSTANDING PERIMENOPAUSE VS. MENOPAUSE
Menopause marks a significant transition for women, yet understanding its precursor, perimenopause, and its symptoms can be complex. Dr. Stephanie Faubion, director of Mayo Clinic’s Center for Women’s Health and medical director of The Menopause Society, says experiencing perimenopause and menopause can be confusing for some. She says it is not only patients who may find it confusing, but medical providers as well, due to lack of training in menopause management. “Menopause is defined by no menstrual cycle for a year,” says Dr. Faubion.
5-20-2024 LOW-DOSE IRON SUPPLEMENTATION HAS NO BENEFIT FOR BREASTFED INFANTS, SHOWS STUDY
The American Pediatric Association recommends iron supplements to all healthy infants who breastfeed longer than four months, while its European counterpart, Society of Gastroenterology, Hepataology and Nutrition, does not recommend it. These deviating guidelines stimulated researchers to design a new study. Breastfeeding is strongly recommended, and the proportion of children are breastfed during the first half of life is high. The researchers wanted to determine whether breastfeeding babies could benefit from extra iron.
5-20-2024 ALLERGY MEDICATIONS COME WITH HAZARDS: BE AWARE
People with seasonal allergies often turn to over-the-counter and prescription medicines to relieve symptoms like coughing, sneezing, runny nose, congestion and itchy eyes, nose or throat. But they often aren’t aware that these meds—including antihistamines—have as much risk for potential side effects, drug interactions and overdose as other drugs. “All medicines have side effects associated with them even when they are taken appropriately and according to dosing directions on the label,”
5-20-2024 I CAN’T AFFORD OLIVE OIL—WHAT ELSE CAN I USE?
If you buy your olive oil in bulk, you’ve likely been in for a shock in recent weeks. Major supermarkets have been selling olive oil for up to A$65 for a four-liter tin, and up to $26 for a 750 milliliter bottle. We’ve been hearing about the health benefits of olive oil for years. And many of us are adding it to salads, or baking and frying with it. But during a cost-of-living crisis, these high prices can put olive oil out of reach. Let’s take a look at why
5-20-2024 Researchers uncover biological trigger of early puberty
Heather Brenhouse, associate professor of psychology, says disrupting the caretaker relationship can really traumatize a child or a developing rodent. Credit: Ruby Wallau/Northeastern University New research conducted by the Brenhouse Lab reveals how early life adversity triggers early puberty and late-life anxiety, paving the way for potential interventions. The onset of puberty has been creeping downward for decades. In the United States, the average age of girls reaching puberty ranges from 8.8 to 10.3 years old. The early start of puberty, which is associated with many health risks, can be
5-20-2024 Bioluminescence and 3D-printed implants shed light on brain–spinal interactions
Brain-spinal cord duet’s neurodynamic symphony is now accessible to scientists via novel multi-organ implants. Credit: Dmitrijs Celinskis A sensory process such as pain is no ordinary phenomenon—it’s a symphony of neural and vascular interactions orchestrated by the brain and spinal cord. Attempting to dissect this symphony by focusing on a single region is like trying to understand a complex melody by listening to just one instrument. It’s incomplete, potentially misleading, and may result in erroneous conclusions. Enter the Carney Institute’s team of visionaries. Their mission? To develop tools that allow
5-20-2024 New thesis explores cancer treatment that can prevent relapse
. What is the main focus of your thesis? Relapse following initial treatment efficacy remains a major clinical challenge for many cancers. The focus of my thesis has been to explore the therapeutic impact of immune cells in patients with blood cancer (leukemia), by first investigating which cells
5-20-2024 New study reveals health and social benefits of car-free living
Participating in a three-week car-free challenge has enhanced the health and well-being of Oxford residents, according to research conducted by The University of Bath’s Centre for Climate Change and Social Transformations (CAST), in partnership with climate charity Possible and Low Carbon Oxford North (LCON), conducted this research project. After ditching their cars for three weeks, 10 out of the 12 drivers across Oxford who participated said they plan to continue with reduced car use beyond the project. The findings of this research project show that: Day-to-day transport emissions were slashed
5-20-2024 Research shows linked biological pathways driving skin inflammation
A certain biological pathway—a set of linked reactions in the body—drives the inflammation seen in the skin disease psoriasis, a new study finds. The work could lead to improved therapies for all inflammatory skin diseases, including atopic and allergic dermatitis and a type of boil called hidradenitis suppurativa, say the study authors. The findings are published in the journal Immunity. Inflammation is the body’s natural response to irritation and infection, but when out of control, it can lead to the reddish, flaky, itchy lesions that
5-20-2024 Prescription co-payments linked to more hospital admissions in New Zealand, study finds
A new study from researchers cautions that bringing back the $5 co-payment for prescription medicines could see a jump in hospital admissions. The study analyzed health data for 71,502 people and found those who didn’t pick up a prescription because they couldn’t afford the $5 fee had a 34% higher rate of being admitted to hospital.
5-20-2024 How a simulation is informing COVID-19 vaccine policy after our ‘return to normal’
As the saying goes “There is no such thing as normal” and this has been especially true after the pandemic. Before the emergence of the omicron COVID-19 variant, countries like the U.K. had high vaccination coverage along with widespread exposure to COVID-19 in the population. This combination of vaccine and infection-derived immunity is termed hybrid immunity and is different to vaccine immunity or infection immunity alone. In contrast, other countries, including Australia, New Zealand and those in the Western Pacific, had a very different pandemic experience.
5-20-2024 Researchers find intriguing connections between Alzheimer’s disease and other common conditions
A study has found that while some medical conditions appear to increase our likelihood of developing Alzheimer’s disease, others appear to decrease the odds. The study, led by Dr. Yijun (Nicholas) Pan and Dr. Liang Jin, analyzed data from 2,443 older Australians living in Melbourne or Perth who are part of the Australian Imaging, Biomarker and Lifestyle (AIBL) study, an internationally recognized cohort for dementia research. “We found anxiety and other neurological disorders are associated with increased likelihood of Alzheimer’s disease,” Dr. Pan said.
5-20-2024 Prepping autistic or sound-sensitive kids for cicada noise
As Chicagoans await the emergence of the cicadas, parents of children on the autism spectrum and/or who have sensitivities to sound can take a few steps to prepare for what is expected to be a loud summer. “Some children on the spectrum can struggle with loud or unexpected noises, such as toilets that automatically flush, fireworks around the Fourth of July or the emergence of a large number of cicadas,”
5-20-2024 Study highlights importance of screening for rare inherited iron metabolism defects
Over 40% of cases curated based on stringent clinical and laboratory criteria from the Indian subcontinent have an inherited iron metabolism defect on comprehensive genomic evaluation, report investigators in The Journal of Molecular Diagnostics. Although iron deficiency anemia is the most prevalent form of anemia globally,
5-20-2024 Study finds tyrosine kinase Csk promotes germinal center B cell survival and affinity maturation
The authors found that Csk (a tyrosine kinase that attenuates B cell receptor signaling) is required for germinal center maintenance and efficient antibody maturation. The immune system strikes a fine balance by identifying and neutralizing disease-causing agents while carefully avoiding destruction of healthy tissues and cells. Now, researchers from Japan have shed new light on one of the processes that helps train immune cells to act only against genuine threats.
5-20-2024 Significant gaps between science of obesity and the care patients receive, say experts
As research continues to produce evidence about the underlying causes of obesity and optimal strategies to treat and manage obesity have evolved, there are disparities in application of the latest scientific advances in the clinical care that people with obesity receive. Widespread adoption of current findings, consistency of care and expertise in obesity care varies by health care professional and institution.
5-20-2024 Improving online depression treatment
Symptom course of depression for individuals who dropped out of treatment and those who completed treatment. In the dropout group, there is an initial decrease in symptoms while the patients were still in treatment, which tapers off as they drop out. For completers, there is close to a linear change over time. This suggests there is a relation between the more that an individual continues to participate in ICBT and their depressive symptom improvement.
5-20-2024 Women face worse chronic kidney disease management in primary care
Women receive worse primary care-based chronic kidney disease (CKD) management than men, according to a research letter adult patients with CKD receiving primary care at 15 practices using electronic health record data to examine sex disparities in guideline-based CKD management
5-20-2024 Bisoprolol does not reduce exacerbations in at-risk COPD patients
For patients with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), bisoprolol does not reduce the number of self-reported exacerbations treated with oral corticosteroids, antibiotics, or both, according to a study
5-20-2024 Anticancer potential of CLK kinase inhibitors 1C8 and GPS167 via EMT and antiviral immune response
The diheteroarylamide-based compound 1C8 and the aminothiazole carboxamide-related compound GPS167 inhibit the CLK kinases, and affect the proliferation of a broad range of cancer cell lines. A chemogenomic screen previously performed with GPS167 revealed that the depletion of components associated with mitotic spindle assembly altered
5-20-2024 Study sheds light on bacteria associated with pre-term birth
Researchers from North Carolina State University have found that multiple species of Gardnerella, bacteria sometimes associated with bacterial vaginosis (BV) and pre-term birth, can coexist in the same vaginal microbiome. The findings, published in mSystems, add to the emerging picture of Gardnerella’s effects on human health. Gardnerella is a group of anaerobic bacteria that are commonly found in the vaginal microbiome. Higher levels of the bacteria are a signature of BV and associated with higher risk of pre-term birth, but it is also found in women who have no sign
5-20-2024 New AI model uses federated learning for multi-organ segmentation based on medical image data
Researchers have successfully developed the technology that can accurately segment different body organs by effectively learning medical image data used for different purposes in different hospitals, which is expected to greatly contribute to the development of large-scale medical AI models in the future.
5-20-2024 Second Phase 3 clinical trial again shows dupilumab lessens disease in COPD patients with type 2 inflammation
Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease patients with type 2 inflammation may soon gain access to a new drug—dupilumab—that showed rapid and sustained improvements in patients in a pivotal Phase 3 clinical trial, researchers report in the New England Journal of Medicine. This monoclonal antibody is the first biologic shown to improve clinical outcomes in COPD. The data supporting the use of dupilumab in COPD will be reviewed by the United States Food and Drug Administration in June. The disease improvements—as measured by a significantly lower annualized rate of acute exacerbations
5-20-2024 New AI model uses federated learning for multi-organ segmentation based on medical image data
Researchers have successfully developed the technology that can accurately segment different body organs by effectively learning medical image data used for different purposes in different hospitals, which is expected to greatly contribute to the development of large-scale medical AI models in the future.
5-20-2024 Second Phase 3 clinical trial again shows dupilumab lessens disease in COPD patients with type 2 inflammation
Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease patients with type 2 inflammation may soon gain access to a new drug—dupilumab—that showed rapid and sustained improvements in patients in a pivotal Phase 3 clinical trial, researchers report in the New England Journal of Medicine. This monoclonal antibody is the first biologic shown to improve clinical outcomes in COPD. The data supporting the use of dupilumab in COPD will be reviewed by the United States Food and Drug Administration in June. The disease improvements—as measured by a significantly lower annualized rate of acute exacerbations
submitted by healthmedicinet to u/healthmedicinet [link] [comments]
5-20-2024
Why nightmares and ‘daymares’ could be early warning signs of autoimmune disease
An increase in nightmares and hallucinations—or ‘daymares’—could herald the onset of autoimmune diseases such as lupus, say an international team led by researchers at the University of Cambridge and King’s College London. The researchers argue that there must be greater recognition that these types of mental health and neurological symptoms can act as an early warning sign that an individual is approaching a “flare,” where their disease worsens for a period.5-20-2024 Yoga and meditation-induced altered states of consciousness are common in the general population, study says
Yoga, mindfulness, meditation, breathwork, and other practices are gaining in popularity due to their potential to improve health and well-being. The effects of these practices are mostly positive and occasionally transformational, yet they are known to sometimes be associated with challenging altered states of consciousness. New research by a team including investigators from Massachusetts General Hospital reveals that altered states of consciousness associated with meditation practice are far more common than expected. Although many people reported positive outcomes, that were sometimes even considered transformational, from these experiences, for a substantial
5-20-2024 Examining the benefits of out-of-network care for pediatric moyamoya
Total in-episode expenses and resource use before the index surgery (preop) and including/after the surgery (postop). The comparisons are separated for analysis into (A) single institution cohorts (1 and 2) and (B) multi?institution cohorts (3 and 4). Moyamoya disease is a rare condition that affects the blood vessels in the brain, especially in children. Narrowing and blockage of vessels significantly increases the risk of stroke and requires surgical revascularization for treatment. Although research shows that outcomes of revascularization are better
5-20-2024 Study explores links between social media use, mental health and sleep quality
The more time you spend on social media, the greater the likelihood of having unpleasant social-media related dreams that cause distress, sleep disruption and impact our peace of mind. Flinders University’s Reza Shabahang says that the vast and rapid adoption of social media has the potential to influence various aspects of life, including the realm of dreaming. “As social media becomes increasingly intertwined with our lives, its impact extends beyond waking hours, and may influence our dreams,”
5-20-2024 How are asthma and heart health linked?
Although the heart and lungs are neighbors in your chest, people may think of them as separate entities with unrelated problems. But a growing body of evidence suggests that asthma—one of the most common lung disorders—is a risk factor for cardiovascular disease. Asthma is a serious chronic disease in which airways are inflamed, often in response to specific triggers. It affects about 25 million people in the U.S., including nearly 5 million children, causing millions of annual visits to doctors’ offices and emergency rooms. “We call these major changes
5-20-2024 STUDY EXPLORES PATIENT TRUST IN PHYSICIANS
Trust in one’s physician drives positive health practices. In a scoping review, SUNY Poly Professor of Sociology Dr. Linda R. Weber discovered new developments in the measurement of trust, identified those measures of trust that have known reliability and validity, and compared those instruments’ conceptualizations, dimensions, and indicators. The paper is published in the journal PLOS ONE. Weber explains that 10 dimensions emerged from the study: fidelity, technical competence, communicative competence, interpersonal competence (i.e., caring), honesty, confidentiality, global, behavioral, fairness, and system trust/accountability. In addition, these findings provide the foundation
5-20-2024 TIMESAVING TIPS FOR COOKING HEALTHY MEALS
Living a busy, fast-paced life can make it hard to find the motivation to cook a healthy meal at home. However, learning some shortcuts in the kitchen can keep your healthy eating goals on track and help you avoid grazing on unhealthy snacks, grabbing the first thing you see in the fridge or going out for fast food. Why cook at home? Research shows that maintaining a healthy weight is challenging when you eat out too frequently. Restaurant portions often are super-sized
5-20-2024 UNDERSTANDING PERIMENOPAUSE VS. MENOPAUSE
Menopause marks a significant transition for women, yet understanding its precursor, perimenopause, and its symptoms can be complex. Dr. Stephanie Faubion, director of Mayo Clinic’s Center for Women’s Health and medical director of The Menopause Society, says experiencing perimenopause and menopause can be confusing for some. She says it is not only patients who may find it confusing, but medical providers as well, due to lack of training in menopause management. “Menopause is defined by no menstrual cycle for a year,” says Dr. Faubion.
5-20-2024 LOW-DOSE IRON SUPPLEMENTATION HAS NO BENEFIT FOR BREASTFED INFANTS, SHOWS STUDY
The American Pediatric Association recommends iron supplements to all healthy infants who breastfeed longer than four months, while its European counterpart, Society of Gastroenterology, Hepataology and Nutrition, does not recommend it. These deviating guidelines stimulated researchers to design a new study. Breastfeeding is strongly recommended, and the proportion of children are breastfed during the first half of life is high. The researchers wanted to determine whether breastfeeding babies could benefit from extra iron.
5-20-2024 ALLERGY MEDICATIONS COME WITH HAZARDS: BE AWARE
People with seasonal allergies often turn to over-the-counter and prescription medicines to relieve symptoms like coughing, sneezing, runny nose, congestion and itchy eyes, nose or throat. But they often aren’t aware that these meds—including antihistamines—have as much risk for potential side effects, drug interactions and overdose as other drugs. “All medicines have side effects associated with them even when they are taken appropriately and according to dosing directions on the label,”
5-20-2024 I CAN’T AFFORD OLIVE OIL—WHAT ELSE CAN I USE?
If you buy your olive oil in bulk, you’ve likely been in for a shock in recent weeks. Major supermarkets have been selling olive oil for up to A$65 for a four-liter tin, and up to $26 for a 750 milliliter bottle. We’ve been hearing about the health benefits of olive oil for years. And many of us are adding it to salads, or baking and frying with it. But during a cost-of-living crisis, these high prices can put olive oil out of reach. Let’s take a look at why
5-20-2024 Researchers uncover biological trigger of early puberty
Heather Brenhouse, associate professor of psychology, says disrupting the caretaker relationship can really traumatize a child or a developing rodent. Credit: Ruby Wallau/Northeastern University New research conducted by the Brenhouse Lab reveals how early life adversity triggers early puberty and late-life anxiety, paving the way for potential interventions. The onset of puberty has been creeping downward for decades. In the United States, the average age of girls reaching puberty ranges from 8.8 to 10.3 years old. The early start of puberty, which is associated with many health risks, can be
5-20-2024 Bioluminescence and 3D-printed implants shed light on brain–spinal interactions
Brain-spinal cord duet’s neurodynamic symphony is now accessible to scientists via novel multi-organ implants. Credit: Dmitrijs Celinskis A sensory process such as pain is no ordinary phenomenon—it’s a symphony of neural and vascular interactions orchestrated by the brain and spinal cord. Attempting to dissect this symphony by focusing on a single region is like trying to understand a complex melody by listening to just one instrument. It’s incomplete, potentially misleading, and may result in erroneous conclusions. Enter the Carney Institute’s team of visionaries. Their mission? To develop tools that allow
5-20-2024 New thesis explores cancer treatment that can prevent relapse
. What is the main focus of your thesis? Relapse following initial treatment efficacy remains a major clinical challenge for many cancers. The focus of my thesis has been to explore the therapeutic impact of immune cells in patients with blood cancer (leukemia), by first investigating which cells
5-20-2024 New study reveals health and social benefits of car-free living
Participating in a three-week car-free challenge has enhanced the health and well-being of Oxford residents, according to research conducted by The University of Bath’s Centre for Climate Change and Social Transformations (CAST), in partnership with climate charity Possible and Low Carbon Oxford North (LCON), conducted this research project. After ditching their cars for three weeks, 10 out of the 12 drivers across Oxford who participated said they plan to continue with reduced car use beyond the project. The findings of this research project show that: Day-to-day transport emissions were slashed
5-20-2024 Research shows linked biological pathways driving skin inflammation
A certain biological pathway—a set of linked reactions in the body—drives the inflammation seen in the skin disease psoriasis, a new study finds. The work could lead to improved therapies for all inflammatory skin diseases, including atopic and allergic dermatitis and a type of boil called hidradenitis suppurativa, say the study authors. The findings are published in the journal Immunity. Inflammation is the body’s natural response to irritation and infection, but when out of control, it can lead to the reddish, flaky, itchy lesions that
5-20-2024 Prescription co-payments linked to more hospital admissions in New Zealand, study finds
A new study from researchers cautions that bringing back the $5 co-payment for prescription medicines could see a jump in hospital admissions. The study analyzed health data for 71,502 people and found those who didn’t pick up a prescription because they couldn’t afford the $5 fee had a 34% higher rate of being admitted to hospital.
5-20-2024 How a simulation is informing COVID-19 vaccine policy after our ‘return to normal’
As the saying goes “There is no such thing as normal” and this has been especially true after the pandemic. Before the emergence of the omicron COVID-19 variant, countries like the U.K. had high vaccination coverage along with widespread exposure to COVID-19 in the population. This combination of vaccine and infection-derived immunity is termed hybrid immunity and is different to vaccine immunity or infection immunity alone. In contrast, other countries, including Australia, New Zealand and those in the Western Pacific, had a very different pandemic experience.
5-20-2024 Researchers find intriguing connections between Alzheimer’s disease and other common conditions
A study has found that while some medical conditions appear to increase our likelihood of developing Alzheimer’s disease, others appear to decrease the odds. The study, led by Dr. Yijun (Nicholas) Pan and Dr. Liang Jin, analyzed data from 2,443 older Australians living in Melbourne or Perth who are part of the Australian Imaging, Biomarker and Lifestyle (AIBL) study, an internationally recognized cohort for dementia research. “We found anxiety and other neurological disorders are associated with increased likelihood of Alzheimer’s disease,” Dr. Pan said.
5-20-2024 Prepping autistic or sound-sensitive kids for cicada noise
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2024.05.21 18:48 Front_Ordinary7516 Failed to load the display the audio player in the chatscreen of the chat app
Hi all, I am writing a chat app which can play audio file in the chatscreen of the app. After updating to Expo SDK 51, the app cannot load the chatscreen with audio message (but it used to work fine when I was using Expo SDK 48). The following are the error showed in the log when I opened the chatscreen with audio message:
***************************************************
ERROR TypeError: Cannot read property 'Track' of undefined
This error is located at:
in AudioPlayerViewTest (created by Bubble)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by Bubble)
in TouchableWithoutFeedback (created by Bubble)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by Bubble)
in Bubble (created by ItemWithSeparator)
in ItemWithSeparator (created by CellRenderer)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by CellRenderer)
in VirtualizedListCellContextProvider (created by CellRenderer)
in CellRenderer (created by VirtualizedList)
in RCTScrollContentView (created by ScrollView)
in RCTScrollView (created by ScrollView)
in ScrollView (created by ScrollView)
in ScrollView (created by VirtualizedList)
in VirtualizedListContextProvider (created by VirtualizedList)
in VirtualizedList (created by VirtualizedSectionList)
in VirtualizedSectionList (created by SectionList)
in SectionList (created by ChatScreen)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by ChatScreen)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by PageContainer)
in PageContainer (created by ChatScreen)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by ImageBackground)
in ImageBackground (created by ChatScreen)
in RNCSafeAreaView
in Unknown (created by ChatScreen)
in ChatScreen (created by SceneView)
in StaticContainer
in EnsureSingleNavigator (created by SceneView)
in SceneView (created by SceneView)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by DebugContainer)
in DebugContainer (created by MaybeNestedStack)
in MaybeNestedStack (created by SceneView)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by SceneView)
in RNSScreen (created by Animated(Anonymous))
in Animated(Anonymous) (created by InnerScreen)
in Suspender (created by Freeze)
in Suspense (created by Freeze)
in Freeze (created by DelayedFreeze)
in DelayedFreeze (created by InnerScreen)
in InnerScreen (created by Screen)
in Screen (created by SceneView)
in SceneView (created by NativeStackViewInner)
in Suspender (created by Freeze)
in Suspense (created by Freeze)
in Freeze (created by DelayedFreeze)
in DelayedFreeze (created by ScreenStack)
in RNSScreenStack (created by ScreenStack)
in ScreenStack (created by NativeStackViewInner)
in NativeStackViewInner (created by NativeStackView)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by SafeAreaProviderCompat)
in SafeAreaProviderCompat (created by NativeStackView)
in NativeStackView (created by NativeStackNavigator)
in PreventRemoveProvider (created by NavigationContent)
in NavigationContent
in Unknown (created by NativeStackNavigator)
in NativeStackNavigator (created by StackNavigator)
in StackNavigator (created by MainNavigator)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by KeyboardAvoidingView)
in KeyboardAvoidingView (created by MainNavigator)
in MainNavigator (created by AppNavigator)
in EnsureSingleNavigator
in BaseNavigationContainer
in ThemeProvider
in NavigationContainerInner (created by AppNavigator)
in AppNavigator (created by App)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by MenuProvider)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by MenuProvider)
in MenuProvider (created by App)
in RNCSafeAreaProvider (created by SafeAreaProvider)
in SafeAreaProvider (created by App)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by GestureHandlerRootView)
in GestureHandlerRootView (created by App)
in Provider (created by App)
in App (created by withDevTools(App))
in withDevTools(App)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by AppContainer)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by AppContainer)
in AppContainer
in main(RootComponent), js engine: hermes
***************************************************
My code for the audio player is as follows:
Thanks in advance!
submitted by Front_Ordinary7516 to reactnative [link] [comments]
***************************************************
ERROR TypeError: Cannot read property 'Track' of undefined
This error is located at:
in AudioPlayerViewTest (created by Bubble)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by Bubble)
in TouchableWithoutFeedback (created by Bubble)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by Bubble)
in Bubble (created by ItemWithSeparator)
in ItemWithSeparator (created by CellRenderer)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by CellRenderer)
in VirtualizedListCellContextProvider (created by CellRenderer)
in CellRenderer (created by VirtualizedList)
in RCTScrollContentView (created by ScrollView)
in RCTScrollView (created by ScrollView)
in ScrollView (created by ScrollView)
in ScrollView (created by VirtualizedList)
in VirtualizedListContextProvider (created by VirtualizedList)
in VirtualizedList (created by VirtualizedSectionList)
in VirtualizedSectionList (created by SectionList)
in SectionList (created by ChatScreen)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by ChatScreen)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by PageContainer)
in PageContainer (created by ChatScreen)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by ImageBackground)
in ImageBackground (created by ChatScreen)
in RNCSafeAreaView
in Unknown (created by ChatScreen)
in ChatScreen (created by SceneView)
in StaticContainer
in EnsureSingleNavigator (created by SceneView)
in SceneView (created by SceneView)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by DebugContainer)
in DebugContainer (created by MaybeNestedStack)
in MaybeNestedStack (created by SceneView)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by SceneView)
in RNSScreen (created by Animated(Anonymous))
in Animated(Anonymous) (created by InnerScreen)
in Suspender (created by Freeze)
in Suspense (created by Freeze)
in Freeze (created by DelayedFreeze)
in DelayedFreeze (created by InnerScreen)
in InnerScreen (created by Screen)
in Screen (created by SceneView)
in SceneView (created by NativeStackViewInner)
in Suspender (created by Freeze)
in Suspense (created by Freeze)
in Freeze (created by DelayedFreeze)
in DelayedFreeze (created by ScreenStack)
in RNSScreenStack (created by ScreenStack)
in ScreenStack (created by NativeStackViewInner)
in NativeStackViewInner (created by NativeStackView)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by SafeAreaProviderCompat)
in SafeAreaProviderCompat (created by NativeStackView)
in NativeStackView (created by NativeStackNavigator)
in PreventRemoveProvider (created by NavigationContent)
in NavigationContent
in Unknown (created by NativeStackNavigator)
in NativeStackNavigator (created by StackNavigator)
in StackNavigator (created by MainNavigator)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by KeyboardAvoidingView)
in KeyboardAvoidingView (created by MainNavigator)
in MainNavigator (created by AppNavigator)
in EnsureSingleNavigator
in BaseNavigationContainer
in ThemeProvider
in NavigationContainerInner (created by AppNavigator)
in AppNavigator (created by App)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by MenuProvider)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by MenuProvider)
in MenuProvider (created by App)
in RNCSafeAreaProvider (created by SafeAreaProvider)
in SafeAreaProvider (created by App)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by GestureHandlerRootView)
in GestureHandlerRootView (created by App)
in Provider (created by App)
in App (created by withDevTools(App))
in withDevTools(App)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by AppContainer)
in RCTView (created by View)
in View (created by AppContainer)
in AppContainer
in main(RootComponent), js engine: hermes
***************************************************
My code for the audio player is as follows:
import React, { useState, useRef } from "react"; import { HStack, Icon, Slider, Text, Button, NativeBaseProvider, } from "native-base"; import { MaterialIcons } from "@expo/vector-icons"; import { Audio } from "expo-av"; function msToTime(millisec) { var seconds = (millisec / 1000).toFixed(0); var minutes = Math.floor(seconds / 60); var hours = ""; if (minutes > 59) { hours = Math.floor(minutes / 60); hours = hours >= 10 ? hours : "0" + hours; minutes = minutes - hours * 60; minutes = minutes >= 10 ? minutes : "0" + minutes; } seconds = Math.floor(seconds % 60); seconds = seconds >= 10 ? seconds : "0" + seconds; if (hours != "") { return hours + ":" + minutes + ":" + seconds; } return minutes + ":" + seconds; } export const AudioPlayerViewTest = (props) => { const { audioUrl, } = props; const [isPlaying, setIsPlaying] = useState(false); const [active, setActive] = useState(false); const [loaded, setLoaded] = useState(false); const [loading, setLoading] = useState(false); const sound = useRef(new Audio.Sound()); const [currentDuration, setCurrentDuration] = useState(0); const [totalDuration, setTotalDuration] = useState(0); React.useEffect(() => { loadAudio(); }, []); async function loadAudio() { setLoaded(false); setLoading(true); const checkLoading = await sound.current.getStatusAsync(); if (checkLoading.isLoaded === false) { try { const result = await sound.current.loadAsync({ uri: audioUrl }); if (result.isLoaded === false) { setLoading(false); console.log("Error in Loading Audio"); } else { setLoading(false); setLoaded(true); } } catch (error) { console.log(error); setLoading(false); } } else { setLoading(false); } } async function playAudio() { try { loadAudio(); const result = await sound.current.getStatusAsync(); console.log(result); if (result.isLoaded) { console.log("Play Audio"); await sound.current.playAsync(); // setPlayable(true); setIsPlaying(true); setActive(true); } sound.current.setOnPlaybackStatusUpdate((playbackStatus) => { if (playbackStatus.isPlaying) { setCurrentDuration(playbackStatus.positionMillis); setTotalDuration(playbackStatus.durationMillis); } if (playbackStatus.didJustFinish) { setIsPlaying(false); setActive(false); setCurrentDuration(0); sound.current.unloadAsync(); loadAudio(); } }); } catch (error) { console.log("Cannot Play Audio"); } } async function pauseAudio() { try { const result = await sound.current.getStatusAsync(); if (result.isLoaded) { if (result.isPlaying === true) { console.log("Pause Audio"); sound.current.pauseAsync(); setIsPlaying(false); setActive(false); } } } catch (error) { console.log("Cannot Pause Audio"); } } return ( {msToTime(currentDuration)} / {msToTime(totalDuration)} ); }; Also, anyone has ideas on how I can modify the function playAudio( ) as I feel strange that the loadAudio has to appear twice (The purpose of that is to make the playback to go back to time =0 after direct finished playing).Thanks in advance!
2024.05.21 18:28 BleepBlimpBop $RILY DD: Long List of Short Seller Claims --- DEBUNKED with proof!
Ever-shifting Short Seller Claims
The short sellers attacking RILY in 2023-2024 have been relentless (currently 57% of float sold short per FinViz), with an ever-shifting list of wild accusations.It's sickening to watch them compile a never-ending list of baseless wild theories and claims to support their short positions, which are demonstrably false. But as each is proved false, they pivot to new claims, and/or change the goalposts.
The sheer volume of shifting claims makes it hard to track how despotic they are with their "platform," and how many falsehoods they've spun. Even for someone who watched it in real-time, for almost a year
Compiled & Debunked
Sunlight kills vampires. To that end, I've compiled a list of (i) claimants (ii) claims (iii) reality (iv) definitive source proving reality.Why Did They Target RILY?
One of the most vocal short sellers, Nate Koppikar (who also introduced Marc Cohodes to the "opportunity") has a fund Orso Partners. Based on their SEC registration document, this is their investment thesis:"The Account’s investment objectives are to achieve capital appreciation primarily by identifying and selling short marketable equity securities of underfollowed and complex companies with misleading or corrective disclosures through a research-intensive process. The Account employs a short-biased investment strategy with an emphasis on primarily small to mid-cap companies that are underfollowed and complex (i.e., companies with market capitalizations of less than $5 billion which the market does not yet have a wellformed bull and/or bear perspective)."
RILY fits their description. The icing on the cake was the relatively large market cap, and the relatively small float. Given extremely high insider ownership (32.9% of shares per the proxy), and limitations on when and how insiders can trade, the "free float" of the stock (i.e., the shares that regularly trade) is very small for the size of the company. Moreover, the setup would only get better - given insiders have consistently used their free cash to buy additional shares hand-over-fist (further reducing the float).
That meant, with relatively small amounts of capital, the short sellers could shove around the stock price. That ability to move price opens another profit avenue - taking large derivative positions (buying puts, and selling calls), and shoving the price (or allowing it to drift up) to profit all along the way. It looked so good, the stock has been the highest-shorted on the US indices for several months. Even after the release of the 10-K, shares remain "hard to borrow" with elevated borrow fees.
Debunked Claims
The claims made by vocal short sellers could fill a book. Most were outrageous and fanciful when they were proposed. Virtually all have objectively debunked. This isn't a comprehensive list, as their claims are too numerous and varied. But it paints an illuminating picture.With a track record this poor, one would expect the short sellers to exit - rather than continuing to spin new narratives. Perhaps the continued attacks are their exit strategy to avoid bankruptcy... Well, #Bullish.
With the highest short interest of all US stocks (albeit likely decreased from the highs of ~76% of the float), I think this is more than ripe for a return to fair value - or well above, if a short squeeze occurs.
Note: this sub disallows image posts. There is a similar post in the RILYStock sub which contains virtually all source images for the claim in the comments (too many images to embed in the post). The source images are illuminating.
Note that the list below deliberately excludes three types of posts/claims from the short sellers:
A) Juvenile personal attacks and attempts to character assassinate and dox a long list of people (RILY CEO, RILY new hires, RILY clients, Marcum the auditor, Marcum's lead audit professional, any firm or individual publicly posting a bull thesis on RILY, etc.).
B) Those that make no objective claims, but simply exist as a product of malicious degeneracy (like pictures of roasted pigs in ovens labeled Bryant Riley the CEO, photoshopped pictures of the CEO in prison chains next to convicted felons, video of an obese woman barely able to walk being gored by a bull labeled Mrs. Riley the CEO's wife, etc.).
C) Those that are impossible for short sellers to know, and impossible to objectively verify (e.g., Marc Cohodes claiming a single RILY trader front runs the CEOs personal short trades in front of clients taking following the firm's bullish advice on those stocks, to guarantee profits).
| Claimant | Claim | Reality |
|---|---|---|
| 1) Wolfpack | Wolfpack “RILY will record investment losses of up to ~$700 million in 2023” FALSE 10-K | FALSE |
| 2) Wolfpack | “new loan to CORZQ will work out just as badly as the last and end in default (again) before June 2023” | FALSE Repaid in full, early, on 1/6/2024. |
| 3) Wolfpack | “The coupon rate on RILY’s seven issues of baby bonds ranges from 5% to 6.75%, which we believe to be far too low to compensate investors for the existential risk that accompanies these securities.” | FALSE Full redemption of May 2024 came early. Far more than sufficient cash to cover debt payments. |
| 4) Wolfpack | “According to our analysis, 4 of RILY’s largest 7 corporate borrowers with outstanding loan balances of $295.3 million are at a high risk of default, or in the case of CORZQ, is already in default.” | FALSE a. Core Scientific Inc. repaid early and in full ($111MM of the “risk”) b. Exela Technologies repaid term loan in full ($55.8MM of the “risk”) c. Arena Group Holdings debt retired in full ($99MM of the “risk”). Publicly disclosed in the most recent 10-K for each company (search for "Riley" in the filing) |
| 5) Wolfpack | “RILY’s NAV is Far Below the $1.1 Billion Minimum NAV Requirement That Is Required for the Nomura Credit Agreement Putting RILY at Risk of Collapse in 2023” | FALSE RILY is in full compliance with the Nomura credit agreement. Moreover, reflecting the strength of the relationship, Nomura even granted a no-fee extension when the 10-K filing was delayed. Also see 10-K for current status. |
| 6) Wolfpack | “Over $200 Million of the Goodwill and Intangible Assets on RILY’s Balance Sheet is Attributable to its Telecom Rollup, which is Centered on Dial-up and DSL Internet:” - criticizing them as dying businesses with no value | FALSE Segment is extremely valuable. From just 2020 to 2023, the communications segment has returned over $212.2MM in adjusted EBITDA. |
| 7) Nate Koppikar (TheFriendlyBear) + Bill Abbate Jr. (JrAbbate), Various | RILY committed fraud with loans and closing the FRG acquisition. "The fact $RILY closed the FRG deal while hiding the Kahn loan - an all PIK defaulted loan backed by $FRG shares - is a Hall of Fame worthy act of fraud. I thought after Enron/Sarbox we couldn't have something like this happen in US markets." | FALSE A law firm led an internal investigation, and an independent external investigation both found “The review confirmed what the Company previously disclosed: that the Company and its executives, including Bryant Riley, had no involvement with, or knowledge of, any of the alleged misconduct concerning Prophecy.” “The results of the independent investigation confirmed that the Company and its executives had no involvement with, or knowledge of, any of the alleged misconduct concerning Mr. Kahn or any of his affiliates. This independent investigation was conducted subsequent to the Company's February 22, 2024 disclosure of the internal review performed with the assistance of Sullivan & Cromwell LLP as outside counsel.” Also see 10-K |
| 8) Marc Cohodes (AlderlaneEggs), ParrotCapital, Bill Abbate Jr. (JrAbbate), Various | The 10-K will never be filed. They can't produce audited financials. | FALSE Audited 10-K was filed. Delay was due to Audit committee fulfilling its responsibilities and proactively conducting investigations (internal and external). |
| 9) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs) + Nate Koppikar (TheFriendlyBear) + Bill Abbate Jr. (JrAbbate) + ParrotCapital | Sullivan and Cromwell knew about Massive Fraud, and did a "sham investigation" | FALSE Sullivan and Cromwell is one of the most respected law firms, in the US and worldwide. "Sullivan & Cromwell continues to lead all law firm advisers in announced and completed global deals in 2023, according to Bloomberg and LSEG. The Firm advised on global announced deals totaling more than $345 billion, representing a 12.1 percent market share, per Bloomberg, and on completed global deals totaling more than $431 billion, representing a 16.9 percent market share, per LSEG." They're not compromising themselves for a relatively small client. |
| 10) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs), Nate Koppikar (TheFriendlyBear), Bill Abbate Jr. (JrAbbate), Parrot Capital | Marcum is enabling Massive Fraud | FALSE Marcum is a respected audit firm, and 13th largest by revenue. "Marcum LLP advanced into the Top 15 in the 2023 Vault Accounting list of top-ranked accounting firms. Marcum climbed six levels to the No. 13 ranking overall and earned a ranking of 14 in prestige. The Firm also won Top 20 rankings across all Practice Area, Quality of Life, and Diversity categories, including several new classifications added this year." |
| 11) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs) | Nomura is enabling Massive Fraud | FALSE Nomura is a global financial services company, and the oldest brokerage firm in Japan. They operate in a highly regulated industry. They're not putting themselves on the line for a relatively small client. |
| 12) Parrot Capital | "The list of $RILY enablers is massive: Marcum LLP, Sullivan and Cromwell, Seeking Alpha, Holbrook Holdings, $AX Axos Bank, Many, many more." | FALSE There's no global conspiracy whereby these companies - all respected law firms, auditors, banks, and media outlets - are collectively colluding to enable RILY to commit fraud. Requires only two brain cells and one functioning synapse to know there's no grand collusion cabal between these disparate companies. |
| 13) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs), Jonathan Weil at WSJ | Franchise Group shares used to secure Kahn loan: "It is unclear whether Kahn pledged the same shares twice—to both Prophecy and B. Riley." | FALSE As stated by the company, Simple UCC search disproves this. UCC # 202302295747 |
| 14) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs) | “Bryant Riley is on the Road, telling people the ‘audit partner at Marcum left’ and that ‘I have made mistakes’ “ | FALSE Marcum audit partner was working on the audit the whole time; the original audit partner had hit the 5yr SEC rule, so he was never working on this year’s audit. |
| 15) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs) | "So it turns out James La Rocca was Fired by MarcumLLP If nothing was wrong with prior $RILY Audits, why is he gone? This will be great in discovery of what exactly went on. | FALSE Marcum audit partner was working on the audit the whole time; the original audit partner had hit the 5yr SEC rule, so he was never working on this year’s audit. |
| 16) Koppikar (TheFriendlyBear) | “So Bryant Riley did disseminate MNPI back in March” in response to Cohodes claim that he told people the Marcum partner left | FALSE Cohodes claimed Bryant Riley was telling people the Marcum auditor left. Koppikar called that disseminating MNPI. Cohodes statement was false (and thus Koppikar's derivate claim is also false). A different auditor worked on RILY, as Marcum follows the SEC rules; the lead auditor can only serve the client for 5 consecutive years. As such, Koppikar’s derivative claim of disseminating MNPI is false. |
| 17) Koppikar (TheFriendlyBear) | “He appears to still not be familiar with the voting interest model of consolidation… why is a life science and tech partner signing an extremely complex investment company / broker dealer audit ???” i.e., auditor is unqualified | FALSE The auditor is fully qualified. Marcum is a highly respected auditor; they don't hire unqualified people, or assign them to clients they're unqualified to audit. RILY is continuing to use Marcum as the 2024 auditor. |
| 18) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs) | "Now that the $RILY dividend is going away, this omission is serious stuff" | FALSE The dividend did not go away. It was reduced from $1.00/share to $0.50/share, to allow them to opportunistically allocate capital. 23Q4 and 24Q1 |
2024.05.21 18:23 BleepBlimpBop $RILY: Long List of Short Seller Claims --- DEBUNKED
Ever-shifting Short Seller Claims
The short sellers attacking RILY in 2023-2024 have been relentless (currently 57% of float sold short per FinViz), with an ever-shifting list of wild accusations.It's sickening to watch them compile a never-ending list of baseless wild theories and claims to support their short positions, which are demonstrably false. But as each is proved false, they pivot to new claims, and/or change the goalposts.
The sheer volume of shifting claims makes it hard to track how despotic they are with their "platform," and how many falsehoods they've spun. Even for someone who watched it in real-time, for almost a year
Compiled & Debunked
Sunlight kills vampires. To that end, I've compiled a list of (i) claimants (ii) claims (iii) reality (iv) definitive source proving reality.Why Did They Target RILY?
One of the most vocal short sellers, Nate Koppikar (who also introduced Marc Cohodes to the "opportunity") has a fund Orso Partners. Based on their SEC registration document, this is their investment thesis:"The Account’s investment objectives are to achieve capital appreciation primarily by identifying and selling short marketable equity securities of underfollowed and complex companies with misleading or corrective disclosures through a research-intensive process. The Account employs a short-biased investment strategy with an emphasis on primarily small to mid-cap companies that are underfollowed and complex (i.e., companies with market capitalizations of less than $5 billion which the market does not yet have a wellformed bull and/or bear perspective)."
RILY fits their description. The icing on the cake was the relatively large market cap, and the relatively small float. Given extremely high insider ownership (32.9% of shares per the proxy), and limitations on when and how insiders can trade, the "free float" of the stock (i.e., the shares that regularly trade) is very small for the size of the company. Moreover, the setup would only get better - given insiders have consistently used their free cash to buy additional shares hand-over-fist (further reducing the float).
That meant, with relatively small amounts of capital, the short sellers could shove around the stock price. That ability to move price opens another profit avenue - taking large derivative positions (buying puts, and selling calls), and shoving the price (or allowing it to drift up) to profit all along the way. It looked so good, the stock has been the highest-shorted on the US indices for several months. Even after the release of the 10-K, shares remain "hard to borrow" with elevated borrow fees.
Debunked Claims
The claims made by vocal short sellers could fill a book. Most were outrageous and fanciful when they were proposed. Virtually all have objectively debunked. This isn't a comprehensive list, as their claims are too numerous and varied. But it paints an illuminating picture.With a track record this poor, one would expect the short sellers to exit - rather than continuing to spin new narratives. Perhaps the continued attacks are their exit strategy to avoid bankruptcy... Well, #Bullish.
With the highest short interest of all US stocks (albeit likely decreased from the highs of ~76% of the float), I think this is more than ripe for a return to fair value - or well above, if a short squeeze occurs.
Note that the list below deliberately excludes three types of posts/claims from the short sellers:
A) Juvenile personal attacks and attempts to character assassinate and dox a long list of people (RILY CEO, RILY new hires, RILY clients, Marcum the auditor, Marcum's lead audit professional, any firm or individual publicly posting a bull thesis on RILY, etc.).
B) Those that make no objective claims, but simply exist as a product of malicious degeneracy (like pictures of roasted pigs in ovens labeled Bryant Riley the CEO, photoshopped pictures of the CEO in prison chains next to convicted felons, video of an obese woman barely able to walk being gored by a bull labeled Mrs. Riley the CEO's wife, etc.).
C) Those that are impossible for short sellers to know, and impossible to objectively verify (e.g., Marc Cohodes claiming a single RILY trader front runs the CEOs personal short trades in front of clients taking following the firm's bullish advice on those stocks, to guarantee profits).
| Claimant | Claim | Reality |
|---|---|---|
| 1) Wolfpack | Wolfpack “RILY will record investment losses of up to ~$700 million in 2023” FALSE 10-K | FALSE |
| 2) Wolfpack | “new loan to CORZQ will work out just as badly as the last and end in default (again) before June 2023” | FALSE Repaid in full, early, on 1/6/2024. |
| 3) Wolfpack | “The coupon rate on RILY’s seven issues of baby bonds ranges from 5% to 6.75%, which we believe to be far too low to compensate investors for the existential risk that accompanies these securities.” | FALSE Full redemption of May 2024 came early. Far more than sufficient cash to cover debt payments. |
| 4) Wolfpack | “According to our analysis, 4 of RILY’s largest 7 corporate borrowers with outstanding loan balances of $295.3 million are at a high risk of default, or in the case of CORZQ, is already in default.” | FALSE a. Core Scientific Inc. repaid early and in full ($111MM of the “risk”) b. Exela Technologies repaid term loan in full ($55.8MM of the “risk”) c. Arena Group Holdings debt retired in full ($99MM of the “risk”). Publicly disclosed in the most recent 10-K for each company (search for "Riley" in the filing) |
| 5) Wolfpack | “RILY’s NAV is Far Below the $1.1 Billion Minimum NAV Requirement That Is Required for the Nomura Credit Agreement Putting RILY at Risk of Collapse in 2023” | FALSE RILY is in full compliance with the Nomura credit agreement. Moreover, reflecting the strength of the relationship, Nomura even granted a no-fee extension when the 10-K filing was delayed. Also see 10-K for current status. |
| 6) Wolfpack | “Over $200 Million of the Goodwill and Intangible Assets on RILY’s Balance Sheet is Attributable to its Telecom Rollup, which is Centered on Dial-up and DSL Internet:” - criticizing them as dying businesses with no value | FALSE Segment is extremely valuable. From just 2020 to 2023, the communications segment has returned over $212.2MM in adjusted EBITDA. |
| 7) Nate Koppikar (TheFriendlyBear) + Bill Abbate Jr. (JrAbbate), Various | RILY committed fraud with loans and closing the FRG acquisition. "The fact $RILY closed the FRG deal while hiding the Kahn loan - an all PIK defaulted loan backed by $FRG shares - is a Hall of Fame worthy act of fraud. I thought after Enron/Sarbox we couldn't have something like this happen in US markets." | FALSE A law firm led an internal investigation, and an independent external investigation both found “The review confirmed what the Company previously disclosed: that the Company and its executives, including Bryant Riley, had no involvement with, or knowledge of, any of the alleged misconduct concerning Prophecy.” “The results of the independent investigation confirmed that the Company and its executives had no involvement with, or knowledge of, any of the alleged misconduct concerning Mr. Kahn or any of his affiliates. This independent investigation was conducted subsequent to the Company's February 22, 2024 disclosure of the internal review performed with the assistance of Sullivan & Cromwell LLP as outside counsel.” Also see 10-K |
| 8) Marc Cohodes (AlderlaneEggs), ParrotCapital, Bill Abbate Jr. (JrAbbate), Various | The 10-K will never be filed. They can't produce audited financials. | FALSE Audited 10-K was filed. Delay was due to Audit committee fulfilling its responsibilities and proactively conducting investigations (internal and external). |
| 9) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs) + Nate Koppikar (TheFriendlyBear) + Bill Abbate Jr. (JrAbbate) + ParrotCapital | Sullivan and Cromwell knew about Massive Fraud, and did a "sham investigation" | FALSE Sullivan and Cromwell is one of the most respected law firms, in the US and worldwide. "Sullivan & Cromwell continues to lead all law firm advisers in announced and completed global deals in 2023, according to Bloomberg and LSEG. The Firm advised on global announced deals totaling more than $345 billion, representing a 12.1 percent market share, per Bloomberg, and on completed global deals totaling more than $431 billion, representing a 16.9 percent market share, per LSEG." They're not compromising themselves for a relatively small client. |
| 10) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs), Nate Koppikar (TheFriendlyBear), Bill Abbate Jr. (JrAbbate), Parrot Capital | Marcum is enabling Massive Fraud | FALSE Marcum is a respected audit firm, and 13th largest by revenue. "Marcum LLP advanced into the Top 15 in the 2023 Vault Accounting list of top-ranked accounting firms. Marcum climbed six levels to the No. 13 ranking overall and earned a ranking of 14 in prestige. The Firm also won Top 20 rankings across all Practice Area, Quality of Life, and Diversity categories, including several new classifications added this year." |
| 11) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs) | Nomura is enabling Massive Fraud | FALSE Nomura is a global financial services company, and the oldest brokerage firm in Japan. They operate in a highly regulated industry. They're not putting themselves on the line for a relatively small client. |
| 12) Parrot Capital | "The list of $RILY enablers is massive: Marcum LLP, Sullivan and Cromwell, Seeking Alpha, Holbrook Holdings, $AX Axos Bank, Many, many more." | FALSE There's no global conspiracy whereby these companies - all respected law firms, auditors, banks, and media outlets - are collectively colluding to enable RILY to commit fraud. Requires only two brain cells and one functioning synapse to know there's no grand collusion cabal between these disparate companies. |
| 13) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs), Jonathan Weil at WSJ | Franchise Group shares used to secure Kahn loan: "It is unclear whether Kahn pledged the same shares twice—to both Prophecy and B. Riley." | FALSE As stated by the company, Simple UCC search disproves this. UCC # 202302295747 |
| 14) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs) | “Bryant Riley is on the Road, telling people the ‘audit partner at Marcum left’ and that ‘I have made mistakes’ “ | FALSE Marcum audit partner was working on the audit the whole time; the original audit partner had hit the 5yr SEC rule, so he was never working on this year’s audit. |
| 15) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs) | "So it turns out James La Rocca was Fired by MarcumLLP If nothing was wrong with prior $RILY Audits, why is he gone? This will be great in discovery of what exactly went on. | FALSE Marcum audit partner was working on the audit the whole time; the original audit partner had hit the 5yr SEC rule, so he was never working on this year’s audit. |
| 16) Koppikar (TheFriendlyBear) | “So Bryant Riley did disseminate MNPI back in March” in response to Cohodes claim that he told people the Marcum partner left | FALSE Cohodes claimed Bryant Riley was telling people the Marcum auditor left. Koppikar called that disseminating MNPI. Cohodes statement was false (and thus Koppikar's derivate claim is also false). A different auditor worked on RILY, as Marcum follows the SEC rules; the lead auditor can only serve the client for 5 consecutive years. As such, Koppikar’s derivative claim of disseminating MNPI is false. |
| 17) Koppikar (TheFriendlyBear) | “He appears to still not be familiar with the voting interest model of consolidation… why is a life science and tech partner signing an extremely complex investment company / broker dealer audit ???” i.e., auditor is unqualified | FALSE The auditor is fully qualified. Marcum is a highly respected auditor; they don't hire unqualified people, or assign them to clients they're unqualified to audit. RILY is continuing to use Marcum as the 2024 auditor. |
| 18) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs) | "Now that the $RILY dividend is going away, this omission is serious stuff" | FALSE The dividend did not go away. It was reduced from $1.00/share to $0.50/share, to allow them to opportunistically allocate capital. 23Q4 and 24Q1 |
| 19) Marc Cohodes (AlderLaneEggs) | "$RILY doesn't make it till Easter... I will say it again and again.." | FALSE They made it, filed a 10-K and paid a dividend, filed a 10-Q and are paying a dividend, and are chugging along. With stock price 50% higher than when this claim was made. |
2024.05.21 17:07 Khoasy My EW Fan Movie Script (Unfinished)
Act 1 Scene 1
Int. Edd's Apartment Room - Bedroom - Morning
Edd (In sleep bed) SNORE, SNORE, SNORE- (EDD’S face is sprayed with Cola) I SUREDDER! (Looks around room) Oh.
(Cut to) Edd Int. Edd's Apartment room - Closet - Morning (Edd Choses which Hoodie to wear) [Hoodies references to different Hoodie designs] (Picks his Modern Hoodie design)
(Cut to) Int. Edd's Apartment Room - Bathroom Edd (Grabs toothbrush) (Zooms in to show that's it’s Cola flavored) (Brushes teeth) (Grabs cup of Cola) (Gurgles it) (Spits it out) (Makes a big wide smile showing his horrible teeth)
(Cut to) Edd Int. Edd's Apartment Room - Kitchen - Morning (Edd takes bacon in a Oven) (Puts it on a plate) (Edd sits at his table) (Holds up fork and spoon and licks his lips before shoving the entire plate into his mouth) NOM, NOM, NOM MM! The plate is always the best part! Act 1 Scene 2
(Transition to) Int. Edd's Apartment Room - Living Room - Morning Edd (Sits on couch) Ah.. it is a good day to watch Return of the Insane Zombeh Pirates from Hell 4! SLAM (The door goes as MATT and TOM come in)
Matt (Overlapping Tom) BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH I FOUND THIS GUY AND HE SOLD ME CRACK SO I GAVE IT TO A TWO YEAR OLD THEN IT STARTED TO-
Tom (Overlapping Matt) BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH I PULLED AND PULLED BUT IT WOULDN'T COME OUT, SO I GOT A PLANT AND STARTED SAYING NEVER GONNA GIVE-
Edd SHUT UP! (Matt and Tom look at each other) What is it…
Matt He broke mirror #1028!
Tom Nuh Uh!
Edd (Sigh) Tom, did you break the mirror?
Tom No!
Matt Liar, Liar, Dance on Pliers!
Tom (re: notice) Uh, Edd I found this by your door. (Hands to Edd)
Edd (Grabs) Blah, Blah, Blah. Your landlord will require possession of your apartment in 16 days, if rent is not paid! Oh no, I can't afford to paid rent!
Tom Don't worry- well actually do worry bc we all got it.
Matt Can't we mooch off of that crackhead down the street again?
Tom I’ve run out of crack to give to him, and I don't got enough to buy any either.
Edd Can't we get a job?
Tom Don’t you remember what happened last time we got a job!
Edd Oh yeah, we got fired for “immaturity, and irresponsible” or whatever bogus they said.
Matt We’re perfectly mature! They have to have a screw loose!
Tom One time I agree with you Matt. Right Edd… Edd?
Edd (Face plants onto couch) It’s hopeless…
Tom Come on Edd, things could be better!
Edd Do you mean worse?
Tom No, I meant better.
Matt Yeah, you could be friends with a stupid, narcissist and an unsupportive, alcoholic.
Edd (Annoyed, or disappointed face) Well… I guess- TOM WHAT ARE YOU DOING!
Tom (Standing on a chair with a hanging rope hanging from the ceiling fan) Who’s going second bc I'm going first.
Edd Tom, we promised to commit suicide when we get kids!
Tom Oh yeah.
Edd Tom, do you remember that safe in our old house?
Tom Yeah, the one that we left behind when it got destroyed?
Edd Yeah, that one. I was thinking we could go back and break into it. There’s bound to be some cash left in there.
Matt But what if the cops catch us?
Tom Relax, Matt. We’ll make sure no one sees us.
Edd We’ll go at night and make sure to cover our tracks.
Edd But we have no mask- (Tom, Matt are suddenly in Goofy Villain outfit) Edd Where did you even get those
Matt Dumpster!
Edd There's no way I'm wearing one of those! Act 1 Scene 3
(Cuts To) Ext. Old House - Backyard
The three friends stand in the backyard, wearing their goofy villain outfits, as Edd adjusts his costume with annoyance.
Edd (Cont'D) "This is ridiculous. I can't believe you two made me wear this."
Matt (Excitedly) "You look great! We're like the Three Stooges of crime!"
Tom (Grinning) "Yeah, but instead of just being fools, we're gonna be rich fools!”
Edd Matt did you cover our tracks?
Matt Yeah, look. (Shows an path of purple path leading right up to their location)
Tom Matt you know when I said I hated you?
Matt Yeah?
Tom I DIDN'T LIE!
Matt Aw...
Edd "Alright, let's just get this over with. We break into the safe, grab the cash, and get out. Simple enough."
Tom (Cocky) "Piece of cake, guys. We're professional criminals now."
Matt (Excitedly) "We're going to be rich!"
(The friends approach the safe and begin trying to open it.)
Edd Uh, does anyone remember the code?
Tom Not me!
Edd Matt?
(Camera pans to Matt admiring a picture of himself)
Matt I thought I lost you forever baby (Matt says as kissing it)
Edd
Tom(drunk) My idea is to blow up an orphanage!
Edd How do you get drunk off of Smirnoff in 4 seconds!?
Tom(drunk) Idk ask the unicorn in the sky!
Edd (Sigh) I'm going home.
As Edd turns to leave, Tom comes to his senses.
Tom "Guys, hang on. What if we try a brute force attack? Like, really give it a good ol' college try?"
Edd (Sarcastically) “Oh yes, because that's so much better than blowing up an orphanage.”
Tom (Ignoring the comment) “Just hear me out. We all know that safes have a maximum number of combination attempts before they lock us out. So, what if we just brute force it?”Edd But what brute force would... (Edd's eyes spark up with an idea, and a devious smile form's on his face)
Tom So... what's the idea?
Edd (Raises his eyebrows)
Tom I don't speak eyebrows?
Matt (Raises eyebrows)
Tom What!?
Edd (Overlapping Matt) THROW TOM!
Matt (Overlapping Edd) THROW TOM!
Tom Did I ever tell yall I HATE ALL OF YOU!As Matt and Edd start shoving Tom towards the safe, he starts resisting and shouting obscenities at them.
Tom (Yelling) "What the hell is wrong with you guys?! I'm not a goddamn battering ram!"
Matt (Laughing) "Oh come on, it'll be fine! What's the worst that could happen?"
Edd (Shoving Tom) "Just go with it, Tom. You'll thank us later."
Tom (Reluctantly) "Fine, but if I break anything, I'm suing you two.”(Edd and Matt lift Tom over their head and chuck him head first into the safe making a extremely loud smash)
Edd See Tom, that wasn't so bad!
Tom I think broke one of my hair bones
Matt Is it open?
Edd Nope. It's dented tho!Edd Still dented.
Matt Again-
(The gang hear police sirens)
Matt OH NO I'M TOO PRETTY TO GO TO JAIL!
(The police pull up and get out of the cop car with gun)
Cop 1 PUT YOUR HANDS UP!
(The entire gang puts their hands up with a ton of Matt's pictures falling out of his clothes)
(The police officers look confused as they witness the sight in front of them.*)
Officer 1 (Perplexed) “What the hell happened here?”
Matt (Innocently) “We were just trying to break into a safe. No big deal.” Act 1 Scene 4 Int. Cop Car - Midnight
Tom (Drowsy) “Why do my eyelids feel like heavy rocks…?”
Matt (Looking confused) “Hey, does anyone else smell pickles?”
Edd (Snickering) I knew I shouldn't have put on pickle deodorant!
Cop 1 (Driving) “Quiet, back there!”
Edd (Mumbling) Sorry Angry Mcgee!
Matt (Whisper) Pss, Edd!
Edd What?
Matt Get this! (Quickly throws a picture to Edd with his mouth)
Edd What is- Holy S**t I thought I lost this forever!
Camera pans down to show Edd, Matt, and Tom when they first moved in, including a old friend named Tord)*As the camera pans down to the picture, we see a glimpse of a time long ago. Three friends – Edd, Matt, and Tom – are laughing and smiling, with a fourth boy, Tord, standing beside them. They're holding balloons and standing in front of a house they recently moved into. Act 1 Scene 5
(Transition to) Jail - Cell - Midnight
Edd TOM! I'M DYING HELP ME!
Edd is dramatically lying on his back, holding an empty Cola can, pretending to have a heart attack. Meanwhile, Tom is sitting on a bunk bed and rolls his eyes.
Tom (Sarcastically) “Oh, yes, because your Cola addiction is definitely the biggest concern here. Not us being thrown in jail overnight.”
Edd OH WOE IS ME!
Edd writhes around on the bed in despair, while Tom just sits there, clearly agitated by Edd's melodrama.
Tom "Edd, you've been going on about your cola running out for hours now. Can you give it a rest, please?"
Edd (Frantically) "You don't understand, Tom! My cola was my life! How am I supposed to survive here without it?"
Tom (Tired) "Perhaps you should try sleeping or something?”Matt Uh, guys why is there a dude in helicopter trying to shoot us with a bazooka?
Edd (Sarcastically) Well thats just great.
(The group is flung back as the cell window is blasted open)
The man with the bazooka comes through the smoke.
Paul Hello, uh sorry I don't know your names. The Red Leader only refers people as code names.
Tom The Red who?
Matt My name is the beautiful Matt-
Edd covers Matt's mouth
Edd Don't tell him your name idiot!
Paul My name is Paul.
Camera Pans to Matt
Matt Why are your eyebrows 20 feet tall?
Camera Pans back to Paul
Paul They aren't even that big are you blind!?
Camera Pans back to Matt
Matt suddenly wearing blind glasses
Matt Yes
Patryk Hi my name is Patryk-
Paul PATRYK YOUR FLYING THE HELICOPTER!
Patryk Oh.
We hear a Helicopter explosion from outside. Paul and Patryk look down from the exposed cell wall, showing the burning half-destroyed Helicopter.
Patryk Don't worry I'll fix those scratches!
Paul Whatever.
Edd So, are you here to save us?
Paul Nah, we're gonna capture you!
Edd Aw, Bugger
Paul pulls out a "Super cool taser gun" as the label on the taser gun says.
Tom Lame.
(Tom is shocked and knocked out by the taser gun)
(The group watches in shock as Tom goes down from the taser-gun.)
Matt (Panicking) "Oh no, Tom! Edd, do something!!"
Edd (In shock) "What can I do? There's two nut jobs with a taser gun and an assault rifle who are trying to capture us!"
Paul (Casually) "Don't worry, if you don't resist, you'll be safe. The Red Leader just wants you guys for a special project.”
Edd Whatever.
Edd blacks out
(Cut to) Helicopter - Backseat - Morning
Edd wakes up
Edd (Distraught) Ow my head hurts!
Tom (Confused) What happened?
Edd (Deep Voice) Hey Babe.
Tom (Angry) Wtf Edd!
Matt is making muffled sounds because of a mask on his face that says "Beware ugly fish monster behind mask." Edd takes the mask off of Matt.
Edd (Disturbed) EW, the mask was right!
Matt (Angry) Hey!
Paul So you finally woke up!
Matt Uh, yeah
Edd This reminds me of when I flew a Helicopter when I was in the Uk Army!
Paul (Confused) You were in the army!?
Matt We all were can't you tell just by looking at us!
Camera pans to show all of the three boys looking exaggeratedly more stupid than usual.
Paul No.
The three friends look at each other in annoyance, feeling belittled by Paul's remark. Tom speaks up.
Tom (Sarcastically) "Oh wow, thanks for the compliment. Nice to know we look like a bunch of army rejects."
Matt (Defensively) "Excuse me, we are actually highly trained and intelligent individuals... in our own special way.”
Tom (Sarcastically) At least two of us are!
Tom and Edd high-five. Matt not realizing that they are inferring that he's the stupid one, keeps a smile on his face
Edd (Amused) Wait didn't your Helicopter crash like a few hours ago?
Patryk (Proudly) This is my 857th Helicopter!
Edd's Amused face goes to worried.
Edd (Unsettled) “Oh boy, this is going to be one bumpy ride…”
Edd At least we're away from the HELI-COP-TER
Everyone looks at Edd because of the horrible pun.
Tom So, where are we going?
Paul To the "SUPER EVIL EDGY VILLAINOUS BASE!"
The camera zooms out of the Helicopter to show that the place is actually called "SUPER EVIL EDGY VILLAINOUS BASE!"
Edd Well that's just silly.
submitted by Khoasy to Eddsworld [link] [comments]
Int. Edd's Apartment Room - Bedroom - Morning
Edd (In sleep bed) SNORE, SNORE, SNORE- (EDD’S face is sprayed with Cola) I SUREDDER! (Looks around room) Oh.
(Cut to) Edd Int. Edd's Apartment room - Closet - Morning (Edd Choses which Hoodie to wear) [Hoodies references to different Hoodie designs] (Picks his Modern Hoodie design)
(Cut to) Int. Edd's Apartment Room - Bathroom Edd (Grabs toothbrush) (Zooms in to show that's it’s Cola flavored) (Brushes teeth) (Grabs cup of Cola) (Gurgles it) (Spits it out) (Makes a big wide smile showing his horrible teeth)
(Cut to) Edd Int. Edd's Apartment Room - Kitchen - Morning (Edd takes bacon in a Oven) (Puts it on a plate) (Edd sits at his table) (Holds up fork and spoon and licks his lips before shoving the entire plate into his mouth) NOM, NOM, NOM MM! The plate is always the best part! Act 1 Scene 2
(Transition to) Int. Edd's Apartment Room - Living Room - Morning Edd (Sits on couch) Ah.. it is a good day to watch Return of the Insane Zombeh Pirates from Hell 4! SLAM (The door goes as MATT and TOM come in)
Matt (Overlapping Tom) BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH I FOUND THIS GUY AND HE SOLD ME CRACK SO I GAVE IT TO A TWO YEAR OLD THEN IT STARTED TO-
Tom (Overlapping Matt) BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH I PULLED AND PULLED BUT IT WOULDN'T COME OUT, SO I GOT A PLANT AND STARTED SAYING NEVER GONNA GIVE-
Edd SHUT UP! (Matt and Tom look at each other) What is it…
Matt He broke mirror #1028!
Tom Nuh Uh!
Edd (Sigh) Tom, did you break the mirror?
Tom No!
Matt Liar, Liar, Dance on Pliers!
Tom (re: notice) Uh, Edd I found this by your door. (Hands to Edd)
Edd (Grabs) Blah, Blah, Blah. Your landlord will require possession of your apartment in 16 days, if rent is not paid! Oh no, I can't afford to paid rent!
Tom Don't worry- well actually do worry bc we all got it.
Matt Can't we mooch off of that crackhead down the street again?
Tom I’ve run out of crack to give to him, and I don't got enough to buy any either.
Edd Can't we get a job?
Tom Don’t you remember what happened last time we got a job!
Edd Oh yeah, we got fired for “immaturity, and irresponsible” or whatever bogus they said.
Matt We’re perfectly mature! They have to have a screw loose!
Tom One time I agree with you Matt. Right Edd… Edd?
Edd (Face plants onto couch) It’s hopeless…
Tom Come on Edd, things could be better!
Edd Do you mean worse?
Tom No, I meant better.
Matt Yeah, you could be friends with a stupid, narcissist and an unsupportive, alcoholic.
Edd (Annoyed, or disappointed face) Well… I guess- TOM WHAT ARE YOU DOING!
Tom (Standing on a chair with a hanging rope hanging from the ceiling fan) Who’s going second bc I'm going first.
Edd Tom, we promised to commit suicide when we get kids!
Tom Oh yeah.
Edd Tom, do you remember that safe in our old house?
Tom Yeah, the one that we left behind when it got destroyed?
Edd Yeah, that one. I was thinking we could go back and break into it. There’s bound to be some cash left in there.
Matt But what if the cops catch us?
Tom Relax, Matt. We’ll make sure no one sees us.
Edd We’ll go at night and make sure to cover our tracks.
Edd But we have no mask- (Tom, Matt are suddenly in Goofy Villain outfit) Edd Where did you even get those
Matt Dumpster!
Edd There's no way I'm wearing one of those! Act 1 Scene 3
(Cuts To) Ext. Old House - Backyard
The three friends stand in the backyard, wearing their goofy villain outfits, as Edd adjusts his costume with annoyance.
Edd (Cont'D) "This is ridiculous. I can't believe you two made me wear this."
Matt (Excitedly) "You look great! We're like the Three Stooges of crime!"
Tom (Grinning) "Yeah, but instead of just being fools, we're gonna be rich fools!”
Edd Matt did you cover our tracks?
Matt Yeah, look. (Shows an path of purple path leading right up to their location)
Tom Matt you know when I said I hated you?
Matt Yeah?
Tom I DIDN'T LIE!
Matt Aw...
Edd "Alright, let's just get this over with. We break into the safe, grab the cash, and get out. Simple enough."
Tom (Cocky) "Piece of cake, guys. We're professional criminals now."
Matt (Excitedly) "We're going to be rich!"
(The friends approach the safe and begin trying to open it.)
Edd Uh, does anyone remember the code?
Tom Not me!
Edd Matt?
(Camera pans to Matt admiring a picture of himself)
Matt I thought I lost you forever baby (Matt says as kissing it)
Edd
Tom(drunk) My idea is to blow up an orphanage!
Edd How do you get drunk off of Smirnoff in 4 seconds!?
Tom(drunk) Idk ask the unicorn in the sky!
Edd (Sigh) I'm going home.
As Edd turns to leave, Tom comes to his senses.
Tom "Guys, hang on. What if we try a brute force attack? Like, really give it a good ol' college try?"
Edd (Sarcastically) “Oh yes, because that's so much better than blowing up an orphanage.”
Tom (Ignoring the comment) “Just hear me out. We all know that safes have a maximum number of combination attempts before they lock us out. So, what if we just brute force it?”Edd But what brute force would... (Edd's eyes spark up with an idea, and a devious smile form's on his face)
Tom So... what's the idea?
Edd (Raises his eyebrows)
Tom I don't speak eyebrows?
Matt (Raises eyebrows)
Tom What!?
Edd (Overlapping Matt) THROW TOM!
Matt (Overlapping Edd) THROW TOM!
Tom Did I ever tell yall I HATE ALL OF YOU!As Matt and Edd start shoving Tom towards the safe, he starts resisting and shouting obscenities at them.
Tom (Yelling) "What the hell is wrong with you guys?! I'm not a goddamn battering ram!"
Matt (Laughing) "Oh come on, it'll be fine! What's the worst that could happen?"
Edd (Shoving Tom) "Just go with it, Tom. You'll thank us later."
Tom (Reluctantly) "Fine, but if I break anything, I'm suing you two.”(Edd and Matt lift Tom over their head and chuck him head first into the safe making a extremely loud smash)
Edd See Tom, that wasn't so bad!
Tom I think broke one of my hair bones
Matt Is it open?
Edd Nope. It's dented tho!Edd Still dented.
Matt Again-
(The gang hear police sirens)
Matt OH NO I'M TOO PRETTY TO GO TO JAIL!
(The police pull up and get out of the cop car with gun)
Cop 1 PUT YOUR HANDS UP!
(The entire gang puts their hands up with a ton of Matt's pictures falling out of his clothes)
(The police officers look confused as they witness the sight in front of them.*)
Officer 1 (Perplexed) “What the hell happened here?”
Matt (Innocently) “We were just trying to break into a safe. No big deal.” Act 1 Scene 4 Int. Cop Car - Midnight
Tom (Drowsy) “Why do my eyelids feel like heavy rocks…?”
Matt (Looking confused) “Hey, does anyone else smell pickles?”
Edd (Snickering) I knew I shouldn't have put on pickle deodorant!
Cop 1 (Driving) “Quiet, back there!”
Edd (Mumbling) Sorry Angry Mcgee!
Matt (Whisper) Pss, Edd!
Edd What?
Matt Get this! (Quickly throws a picture to Edd with his mouth)
Edd What is- Holy S**t I thought I lost this forever!
Camera pans down to show Edd, Matt, and Tom when they first moved in, including a old friend named Tord)*As the camera pans down to the picture, we see a glimpse of a time long ago. Three friends – Edd, Matt, and Tom – are laughing and smiling, with a fourth boy, Tord, standing beside them. They're holding balloons and standing in front of a house they recently moved into. Act 1 Scene 5
(Transition to) Jail - Cell - Midnight
Edd TOM! I'M DYING HELP ME!
Edd is dramatically lying on his back, holding an empty Cola can, pretending to have a heart attack. Meanwhile, Tom is sitting on a bunk bed and rolls his eyes.
Tom (Sarcastically) “Oh, yes, because your Cola addiction is definitely the biggest concern here. Not us being thrown in jail overnight.”
Edd OH WOE IS ME!
Edd writhes around on the bed in despair, while Tom just sits there, clearly agitated by Edd's melodrama.
Tom "Edd, you've been going on about your cola running out for hours now. Can you give it a rest, please?"
Edd (Frantically) "You don't understand, Tom! My cola was my life! How am I supposed to survive here without it?"
Tom (Tired) "Perhaps you should try sleeping or something?”Matt Uh, guys why is there a dude in helicopter trying to shoot us with a bazooka?
Edd (Sarcastically) Well thats just great.
(The group is flung back as the cell window is blasted open)
The man with the bazooka comes through the smoke.
Paul Hello, uh sorry I don't know your names. The Red Leader only refers people as code names.
Tom The Red who?
Matt My name is the beautiful Matt-
Edd covers Matt's mouth
Edd Don't tell him your name idiot!
Paul My name is Paul.
Camera Pans to Matt
Matt Why are your eyebrows 20 feet tall?
Camera Pans back to Paul
Paul They aren't even that big are you blind!?
Camera Pans back to Matt
Matt suddenly wearing blind glasses
Matt Yes
Patryk Hi my name is Patryk-
Paul PATRYK YOUR FLYING THE HELICOPTER!
Patryk Oh.
We hear a Helicopter explosion from outside. Paul and Patryk look down from the exposed cell wall, showing the burning half-destroyed Helicopter.
Patryk Don't worry I'll fix those scratches!
Paul Whatever.
Edd So, are you here to save us?
Paul Nah, we're gonna capture you!
Edd Aw, Bugger
Paul pulls out a "Super cool taser gun" as the label on the taser gun says.
Tom Lame.
(Tom is shocked and knocked out by the taser gun)
(The group watches in shock as Tom goes down from the taser-gun.)
Matt (Panicking) "Oh no, Tom! Edd, do something!!"
Edd (In shock) "What can I do? There's two nut jobs with a taser gun and an assault rifle who are trying to capture us!"
Paul (Casually) "Don't worry, if you don't resist, you'll be safe. The Red Leader just wants you guys for a special project.”
Edd Whatever.
Edd blacks out
(Cut to) Helicopter - Backseat - Morning
Edd wakes up
Edd (Distraught) Ow my head hurts!
Tom (Confused) What happened?
Edd (Deep Voice) Hey Babe.
Tom (Angry) Wtf Edd!
Matt is making muffled sounds because of a mask on his face that says "Beware ugly fish monster behind mask." Edd takes the mask off of Matt.
Edd (Disturbed) EW, the mask was right!
Matt (Angry) Hey!
Paul So you finally woke up!
Matt Uh, yeah
Edd This reminds me of when I flew a Helicopter when I was in the Uk Army!
Paul (Confused) You were in the army!?
Matt We all were can't you tell just by looking at us!
Camera pans to show all of the three boys looking exaggeratedly more stupid than usual.
Paul No.
The three friends look at each other in annoyance, feeling belittled by Paul's remark. Tom speaks up.
Tom (Sarcastically) "Oh wow, thanks for the compliment. Nice to know we look like a bunch of army rejects."
Matt (Defensively) "Excuse me, we are actually highly trained and intelligent individuals... in our own special way.”
Tom (Sarcastically) At least two of us are!
Tom and Edd high-five. Matt not realizing that they are inferring that he's the stupid one, keeps a smile on his face
Edd (Amused) Wait didn't your Helicopter crash like a few hours ago?
Patryk (Proudly) This is my 857th Helicopter!
Edd's Amused face goes to worried.
Edd (Unsettled) “Oh boy, this is going to be one bumpy ride…”
Edd At least we're away from the HELI-COP-TER
Everyone looks at Edd because of the horrible pun.
Tom So, where are we going?
Paul To the "SUPER EVIL EDGY VILLAINOUS BASE!"
The camera zooms out of the Helicopter to show that the place is actually called "SUPER EVIL EDGY VILLAINOUS BASE!"
Edd Well that's just silly.
2024.05.21 17:05 Significant-Usual-98 Noah The Pilgrim - Chapter 1-3: Northstar
Noah The Pilgrim
Previous First Next
'Noah.'
You can't feel your body, you try to move but receive no feedback from your arms and legs. You open our eyes, or were they always opened? It's difficult to tell when only darkness surrounds you.
'You're here again.'
It's that same voice you heard before waking up in that pod. You try to speak but fail. It feels like you left your body behind, existing only inside your mind.
'Allow me.'
From the dark, a circle of light emerges, filling your vision. The light is not blinding, nor is it too bright to obfuscate the dark, it's just bright enough to reach your eyes without prompting discomfort.
It's the Star. That much, you know for certain.
Normally, you'd feel hopelessly scared, but somehow, all you feel is soothed by its light.
'I remember telling you we wouldn't see each other for a long time. Why are you here?'
Although you wished to answer the question, you could not. Both because you have no control over your body, and because you don't know the answer.
'...'
You recall the AI telling you the purpose of the ship you're in. It was to study this star.
Why? What's so special about this particular star? Sure, it's on the very edge of the ever-expanding universe, but aside from that, it's just a star. A very odd-looking star, but a star nonetheless.
'What's so special about me... Nothing.'
A shiver runs down your spine. It feels as though you've forgotten a significant thing about yourself, and you're sure this star has something to do with it.
'How are you feeling, Noah?'
Like shit. That is what you wanted to answer.
You've been going with the flow ever since you woke up in that pod, not asking yourself neither how or why you've been put in that place, only nodding your way to the bridge.
You've been bombarded with memories that you're sure aren't yours, but your own memories also feel shrouded in a thick haze, and yet, you didn't bother to even think about why it was, only accepting that as truth without understanding this strange phenomenon.
When confronted with things beyond your current knowledge you refuse to acknowledge it by not asking yourself what it is, or by illuding yourself into thinking it's a dream.
Even now, you refuse to acknowledge this impossible place you've found yourself in.
'Why is it that you turn away?'
What to blame for that? You didn't even feel the need to ask anything about yourself. Randomly remembering things as though you were reading them off a manual, taking whatever FYARN says as an absolute truth, and not even reacting to the abhorrent state of the Odyssey.
When FYARN told you about the relationship between the alien and the human races, it told you how superior humans were, and it also told you that the human race lost the war. You didn't bother to call out that clear discrepancy then because you felt as though it didn't concern you, despite being clearly at the forefront of that conflict.
When FYARN asked what you remembered, you simply stated you didn't remember nearly anything, and yet you've made no strive to fix that issue, accepting it as the absolute truth.
All there was left to blame was yourself.
'You're doing it again, turning away from the truth.'
Was it because your situation was impossibly bizarre?
Waking up in a half-blown spaceship could be enough to drive a man to the brink with how random and impossible that notion was. Especially when that man was just a salary man, living month to month, working an unfulfilling job, all while being called the best.
'Perhaps. But I believe that the issue lies much, much deeper.'
The utter darkness shifts and contorts unexplainably. Moving shadows take formless shapes before you. From black to grey, and from grey to different shades of it. Those shapes of impossible geometry cast shadows downwards, as the star stared at you from above.
The shapes expanded and contracted into euclidean and understandable structures. Tall rectangular towers filled the horizon, decorating a path akin to buildings in a busy city.
On the foot of one of those structures, you see a man dwarfed by the sheer size of the scenery.
'Who do you think that is?'
You approach him.
You see a young man that looks to be in his mid-twenties. Your brown eyes stare back at it, analyzing the bags beneath his eye sockets. The dark hair is neither too long nor too short, hastily combed to hide the laziness behind his look. You see a beard that has not been trimmed for weeks, but also lacks thickness, each singular hair isn't particularly long either; and some even appear to be in-grown.
He's wearing a white tuckered-in buttoned shirt with a pair of jeans. A black backpack weighed on his back as he walked through this empty street.
A position you could imagine yourself in, every day of the week.
If you had failed to piece together who that was, it became clear once you noticed the empty look on his face.
It's obvious who that is.
He is a man whose bright dreams have been crushed under the weight of mankind.
How cruel, to be forced to gaze into a dirty mirror...
'You are starting to see it. Let's go further.'
The ractangular towers floated away, as the man continued to walk into the grey void.
Four white walls covered both you and the man, grey shapes transformed into a chair and desk, inviting the man to sit on it.
It was a plain desk and a plain chair, and when the shapes stopped transmogrifying themselves, a plain computer, monitor, keyboard, and mouse rested atop the desk.
Fitting for a plain man. You watch him sitting down in the chair, putting his backpack on the floor beneath the table.
From the backpack, he conjured a notebook and a set of pencils and erasers. He quickly turned the computer on.
This was his job.
The monitor remained grey despite how the man typed on the keyboard. The notebook remained grey despite how the man scribbled on it with the pencil.
A humanoid figure came to be from the geometric mess of grey nearby. It passed by the working man. "G'day Noah." It spoke, as he vanished into the white walls that surround you.
The man didn't bother to respond, he didn't bother to stop his work, and he didn't even bother to look up from his notebook.
Another humanoid figure passed by, holding what looked to be sheets of paper. "Hey Noah, could you sort these documents out for me? I'm swamped today..."
The man looks at the thick collection of papers in the figure's hands. He just started his shift and already lacks the energy and motivation to keep going with his day.
And despite that, he did not want to disappoint.
He points to the empty space on his desk, motioning for the figure to leave it there.
The figure places the paperwork on the man's desk. "Thanks, I owe you big time for this!" After saying that, the figure disappeared into the white walls of the room.
He did not speak a singular word.
You recall this... Feeling.
'Do you remember their names, Noah?'
You could not.
'Do you remember their faces, Noah?'
You could not.
'These people, you used to see them every day. Why do you not know who they are?'
What was the point of it? Why did it matter? Why did they matter?
'Because they are people.'
To you, those figures were nothing but placeholders for those who did the same thing as you. They were nothing special, just like you. So why bother to recall their faces?
'We must go further.'
The white cubicle ceased to be, alongside the man in plain clothing.
The towering rectangles swiftly returned, and with it came a young adult in his early twenties.
Your brown eyes stare back at his. The short dark hair looked as though it was combed for hours until it was perfect. You see a trimmed beard, neatly cut with a blade most sharp. You see that his face has been recently subjected to a daily skin-care regime.
This young man looks to be full of energy.
He's wearing a white tuckered-in buttoned shirt with a pair of jeans. A black backpack was strapped to his back as he walked through this empty street.
Again, you know who this is, yet you don't have the guts to accept it.
'...'
The ringing tune of a cell phone came from the young man's pockets. He promptly picked it up.
"Hey, Noah!" You hear the voice coming from the other side of the call. "The boys and I are going to throw a party today in my place to celebrate finishing high school. You better show up tonight!" It sounds like the voice originates from a man. He is yelling at the phone.
You watch as the young man smirks. "You can bet I'll be there." He answered. "I'll be done with today's interview and head there as soon as possible."
"Great... Something came up, catch you later bud!" And just like that, the call ended. The young man pocketed his phone.
You know how the rest of that day went. The young man passed the interview and secured his spot in a large IT company, then he went to his friend's place and had the best night of his life.
Those memories were the ones you revisited endlessly.
The grey shapes and humanoid figures vanish, returning to utter blackness.
Once again, all you see is the star.
'What happened, Noah?'
You couldn't say. Maybe it wasn't some big thing that happened, but rather a large quantity of small things that eventually crashed down upon you like an avalanche that built up for a long time.
Friends leaving to live their own lives.
Underappreciation of your career.
Your incapacity to form meaningful relationships.
The feeling of being small in the greater scheme of things.
The notion of your life being wasted for nothing.
A lack of accomplishment that was caused by a lack of problems.
You letting your physical appearance go.
But, even amongst all of those aggravating motives, there was one thing that always pained your heart to even recall. For that reason, you refused to acknowledge and even think about it. A trend that would continue for the upcoming years of your life.
Your dream.
Once adulthood came and expectations weighed on you, you had to choose. Live a comfortable life, or throw it all away in exchange for an idea that probably wouldn't even work, to begin with.
You refused to let go at first. Holding unto what little hope there was left for that dream of yours.
In three short years, your life shifted completely.
Friends grew distant, and now all you had as a replacement for them were faceless figures who spoke to you about a job you never really wanted.
Those very same figures held you in high regard, always saying how talented you were or how impressive your skills were. In truth, you never felt like what you did was worth the effort or the praise.
All you ever did in that company was half-assed at best, yet they praised you like their savior. You grew complacent under those who put you on a pedestal.
Your salary increased, and so did the responsibilities, but never were it challenging or engaging. It felt tasteless and odorless.
You refused to even respond to small talk from those people. How could you? If you did, they would shower you with praises you didn't deserve. That theory was proven time and time again.
All you did every day was sitting on a chair, eyes glued to the screen to meet an assortment of numbers and labels. This was nothing. There were people out there, changing the world, fixing the real problems, and you're there, sorting out numbers for a company created to sort out data for a company created to sort out data.
A null uroboros.
Twenty-eight years of a human's life, and for what? To waste away like a gear on a machine?
You remained ignorant of your ignorance. There were no problems since you had more than enough money from your ever-increasing salary you felt you didn't deserve.
You couldn't even bring yourself to quit, afraid to face the consequences, afraid to be replaced. A fact you understood fully well, yet you refused to acknowledge.
Clinging to a feeling of guilt, you couldn't help but hold on to this life. Your life, Noah.
You longed for a change, but wouldn't bring yourself to change it.
Your dream that you lived for so long ago, is something you couldn't even remember. You hid it away in a dark corner of your mind, hoping to never face it again, or else you would break down.
That is what happened.
The coldness of the world is what happened.
You wouldn't go as far as to say that you were a victim of fate.
Instead, you'd say you were a victim of yourself.
'And yet, you're here now. In an impossible place. In an impossible life.'
Are you to waste away on this place as well?
'You had conviction, but lacked guidance.'
Can you even muster that much courage? You fear what the future could bring.
'I presented you this chance for a reason, so you may show them that your soul is the brightest of them all.'
Fear is born for there is hope, but bravery is born for there is fear. You recall someone telling you that once, but...
'Remember this, Noah.'
Where does the courage to take a step forward come from? When it's so dark that you can't see the path ahead, how should one muster enough courage to make the right call?
'Whenever you feel lost, or alone; Whenever you feel like there is no way forward;'
Your vision starts to blur. The star begins to fade.
'So you may never lose your way again;'
Looks like it's time to return to reality.
'I, am your...'
This is my first HFY story, and also my very first OC story. I plan to post at least one of these per week while also posting it on my Patreon. Noah The Pilgrim will always be two to three chapters ahead in there, so if you'd like to directly support this writer, or just want to read more, feel free to check it out.
This has been Lushi, and I'll see you next week.
submitted by Significant-Usual-98 to HFY [link] [comments]
Previous First Next
You can't feel your body, you try to move but receive no feedback from your arms and legs. You open our eyes, or were they always opened? It's difficult to tell when only darkness surrounds you.
'You're here again.'
It's that same voice you heard before waking up in that pod. You try to speak but fail. It feels like you left your body behind, existing only inside your mind.
'Allow me.'
From the dark, a circle of light emerges, filling your vision. The light is not blinding, nor is it too bright to obfuscate the dark, it's just bright enough to reach your eyes without prompting discomfort.
It's the Star. That much, you know for certain.
Normally, you'd feel hopelessly scared, but somehow, all you feel is soothed by its light.
'I remember telling you we wouldn't see each other for a long time. Why are you here?'
Although you wished to answer the question, you could not. Both because you have no control over your body, and because you don't know the answer.
'...'
You recall the AI telling you the purpose of the ship you're in. It was to study this star.
Why? What's so special about this particular star? Sure, it's on the very edge of the ever-expanding universe, but aside from that, it's just a star. A very odd-looking star, but a star nonetheless.
'What's so special about me... Nothing.'
A shiver runs down your spine. It feels as though you've forgotten a significant thing about yourself, and you're sure this star has something to do with it.
'How are you feeling, Noah?'
Like shit. That is what you wanted to answer.
You've been going with the flow ever since you woke up in that pod, not asking yourself neither how or why you've been put in that place, only nodding your way to the bridge.
You've been bombarded with memories that you're sure aren't yours, but your own memories also feel shrouded in a thick haze, and yet, you didn't bother to even think about why it was, only accepting that as truth without understanding this strange phenomenon.
When confronted with things beyond your current knowledge you refuse to acknowledge it by not asking yourself what it is, or by illuding yourself into thinking it's a dream.
Even now, you refuse to acknowledge this impossible place you've found yourself in.
'Why is it that you turn away?'
What to blame for that? You didn't even feel the need to ask anything about yourself. Randomly remembering things as though you were reading them off a manual, taking whatever FYARN says as an absolute truth, and not even reacting to the abhorrent state of the Odyssey.
When FYARN told you about the relationship between the alien and the human races, it told you how superior humans were, and it also told you that the human race lost the war. You didn't bother to call out that clear discrepancy then because you felt as though it didn't concern you, despite being clearly at the forefront of that conflict.
When FYARN asked what you remembered, you simply stated you didn't remember nearly anything, and yet you've made no strive to fix that issue, accepting it as the absolute truth.
All there was left to blame was yourself.
'You're doing it again, turning away from the truth.'
Was it because your situation was impossibly bizarre?
Waking up in a half-blown spaceship could be enough to drive a man to the brink with how random and impossible that notion was. Especially when that man was just a salary man, living month to month, working an unfulfilling job, all while being called the best.
'Perhaps. But I believe that the issue lies much, much deeper.'
The utter darkness shifts and contorts unexplainably. Moving shadows take formless shapes before you. From black to grey, and from grey to different shades of it. Those shapes of impossible geometry cast shadows downwards, as the star stared at you from above.
The shapes expanded and contracted into euclidean and understandable structures. Tall rectangular towers filled the horizon, decorating a path akin to buildings in a busy city.
On the foot of one of those structures, you see a man dwarfed by the sheer size of the scenery.
'Who do you think that is?'
You approach him.
You see a young man that looks to be in his mid-twenties. Your brown eyes stare back at it, analyzing the bags beneath his eye sockets. The dark hair is neither too long nor too short, hastily combed to hide the laziness behind his look. You see a beard that has not been trimmed for weeks, but also lacks thickness, each singular hair isn't particularly long either; and some even appear to be in-grown.
He's wearing a white tuckered-in buttoned shirt with a pair of jeans. A black backpack weighed on his back as he walked through this empty street.
A position you could imagine yourself in, every day of the week.
If you had failed to piece together who that was, it became clear once you noticed the empty look on his face.
It's obvious who that is.
He is a man whose bright dreams have been crushed under the weight of mankind.
How cruel, to be forced to gaze into a dirty mirror...
'You are starting to see it. Let's go further.'
The ractangular towers floated away, as the man continued to walk into the grey void.
Four white walls covered both you and the man, grey shapes transformed into a chair and desk, inviting the man to sit on it.
It was a plain desk and a plain chair, and when the shapes stopped transmogrifying themselves, a plain computer, monitor, keyboard, and mouse rested atop the desk.
Fitting for a plain man. You watch him sitting down in the chair, putting his backpack on the floor beneath the table.
From the backpack, he conjured a notebook and a set of pencils and erasers. He quickly turned the computer on.
This was his job.
The monitor remained grey despite how the man typed on the keyboard. The notebook remained grey despite how the man scribbled on it with the pencil.
A humanoid figure came to be from the geometric mess of grey nearby. It passed by the working man. "G'day Noah." It spoke, as he vanished into the white walls that surround you.
The man didn't bother to respond, he didn't bother to stop his work, and he didn't even bother to look up from his notebook.
Another humanoid figure passed by, holding what looked to be sheets of paper. "Hey Noah, could you sort these documents out for me? I'm swamped today..."
The man looks at the thick collection of papers in the figure's hands. He just started his shift and already lacks the energy and motivation to keep going with his day.
And despite that, he did not want to disappoint.
He points to the empty space on his desk, motioning for the figure to leave it there.
The figure places the paperwork on the man's desk. "Thanks, I owe you big time for this!" After saying that, the figure disappeared into the white walls of the room.
He did not speak a singular word.
You recall this... Feeling.
'Do you remember their names, Noah?'
You could not.
'Do you remember their faces, Noah?'
You could not.
'These people, you used to see them every day. Why do you not know who they are?'
What was the point of it? Why did it matter? Why did they matter?
'Because they are people.'
To you, those figures were nothing but placeholders for those who did the same thing as you. They were nothing special, just like you. So why bother to recall their faces?
'We must go further.'
The white cubicle ceased to be, alongside the man in plain clothing.
The towering rectangles swiftly returned, and with it came a young adult in his early twenties.
Your brown eyes stare back at his. The short dark hair looked as though it was combed for hours until it was perfect. You see a trimmed beard, neatly cut with a blade most sharp. You see that his face has been recently subjected to a daily skin-care regime.
This young man looks to be full of energy.
He's wearing a white tuckered-in buttoned shirt with a pair of jeans. A black backpack was strapped to his back as he walked through this empty street.
Again, you know who this is, yet you don't have the guts to accept it.
'...'
The ringing tune of a cell phone came from the young man's pockets. He promptly picked it up.
"Hey, Noah!" You hear the voice coming from the other side of the call. "The boys and I are going to throw a party today in my place to celebrate finishing high school. You better show up tonight!" It sounds like the voice originates from a man. He is yelling at the phone.
You watch as the young man smirks. "You can bet I'll be there." He answered. "I'll be done with today's interview and head there as soon as possible."
"Great... Something came up, catch you later bud!" And just like that, the call ended. The young man pocketed his phone.
You know how the rest of that day went. The young man passed the interview and secured his spot in a large IT company, then he went to his friend's place and had the best night of his life.
Those memories were the ones you revisited endlessly.
The grey shapes and humanoid figures vanish, returning to utter blackness.
Once again, all you see is the star.
'What happened, Noah?'
You couldn't say. Maybe it wasn't some big thing that happened, but rather a large quantity of small things that eventually crashed down upon you like an avalanche that built up for a long time.
Friends leaving to live their own lives.
Underappreciation of your career.
Your incapacity to form meaningful relationships.
The feeling of being small in the greater scheme of things.
The notion of your life being wasted for nothing.
A lack of accomplishment that was caused by a lack of problems.
You letting your physical appearance go.
But, even amongst all of those aggravating motives, there was one thing that always pained your heart to even recall. For that reason, you refused to acknowledge and even think about it. A trend that would continue for the upcoming years of your life.
Your dream.
Once adulthood came and expectations weighed on you, you had to choose. Live a comfortable life, or throw it all away in exchange for an idea that probably wouldn't even work, to begin with.
You refused to let go at first. Holding unto what little hope there was left for that dream of yours.
In three short years, your life shifted completely.
Friends grew distant, and now all you had as a replacement for them were faceless figures who spoke to you about a job you never really wanted.
Those very same figures held you in high regard, always saying how talented you were or how impressive your skills were. In truth, you never felt like what you did was worth the effort or the praise.
All you ever did in that company was half-assed at best, yet they praised you like their savior. You grew complacent under those who put you on a pedestal.
Your salary increased, and so did the responsibilities, but never were it challenging or engaging. It felt tasteless and odorless.
You refused to even respond to small talk from those people. How could you? If you did, they would shower you with praises you didn't deserve. That theory was proven time and time again.
All you did every day was sitting on a chair, eyes glued to the screen to meet an assortment of numbers and labels. This was nothing. There were people out there, changing the world, fixing the real problems, and you're there, sorting out numbers for a company created to sort out data for a company created to sort out data.
A null uroboros.
Twenty-eight years of a human's life, and for what? To waste away like a gear on a machine?
You remained ignorant of your ignorance. There were no problems since you had more than enough money from your ever-increasing salary you felt you didn't deserve.
You couldn't even bring yourself to quit, afraid to face the consequences, afraid to be replaced. A fact you understood fully well, yet you refused to acknowledge.
Clinging to a feeling of guilt, you couldn't help but hold on to this life. Your life, Noah.
You longed for a change, but wouldn't bring yourself to change it.
Your dream that you lived for so long ago, is something you couldn't even remember. You hid it away in a dark corner of your mind, hoping to never face it again, or else you would break down.
That is what happened.
The coldness of the world is what happened.
You wouldn't go as far as to say that you were a victim of fate.
Instead, you'd say you were a victim of yourself.
'And yet, you're here now. In an impossible place. In an impossible life.'
Are you to waste away on this place as well?
'You had conviction, but lacked guidance.'
Can you even muster that much courage? You fear what the future could bring.
'I presented you this chance for a reason, so you may show them that your soul is the brightest of them all.'
Fear is born for there is hope, but bravery is born for there is fear. You recall someone telling you that once, but...
'Remember this, Noah.'
Where does the courage to take a step forward come from? When it's so dark that you can't see the path ahead, how should one muster enough courage to make the right call?
'Whenever you feel lost, or alone; Whenever you feel like there is no way forward;'
Your vision starts to blur. The star begins to fade.
'So you may never lose your way again;'
Looks like it's time to return to reality.
'I, am your...'
This has been Lushi, and I'll see you next week.
2024.05.21 16:51 Weathers_Writing I think God might be real, just not in the way you think (Part 2)
First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for their kind words and support from the last post. A lot has happened since then, and a bunch of context is needed, so I hope you'll bear with me as I explain the details.
***
Back during the peak of the blinking crisis, I remember having a lot of difficulty sleeping. It was common for me to average only four or five hours a night, and the little sleep I did get was marred by terrible nightmares. One in particular recurred many times.
I was only eight, but somehow I was in the driver's seat of our family's old SUV. My arms were long enough to steady the wheel, but my legs didn't quite meet the pedals. It didn't matter though, since the car seemed content to continue on at a constant pace. I looked over and saw my mom in the passenger seat. Her face was a blurry likeness pieced together from the dozen or so picture's I'd seen of her over the years. I tried to bring her into focus, not only because I missed her dearly, but because she was speaking—pleading, even. She waved frantically at me, then brought her leg up and slammed it down on the floor mat several times. I didn't understand what had her so upset until she pointed out the front windshield, and I saw we were hurdling directly toward a giant tree that had fallen in the middle of the road.
Panicking, I stomped for the brake, but my seatbelt protested and pulled me back like an invigorated dog on a short leash. I sat up and tried clicking it off, but it wouldn't budge. My breaths became hollow cries, and I felt my heart beat against the bars of its bony prison. I grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it to the left, then right, attempting to swerve off the road, but it was as if whatever kind of glue was locking up the seatbelt was also fixing the steering wheel in place.
"Mom! what do I do!?" I yelled, tears streaming from my eyes. She was yelling back at me, but it was as if there was a divider between us, and neither of us could hear each other. I turned back just in time to see the giant Oak tree meet the front bumper, and then I jolted awake with a piercing pain in my chest that radiated up through my throat in the form of a giant scream. My little legs kicked under the covers and tears rained down on my pillow until my dad ran in and knelt at my bed.
"Lauren, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"
I grabbed my pillow and hugged it so my face was covered, then effused a "Mmm-hmm" in a long wheeze while rocking to either side.
"Oh, honey," he soothed and brushed my hair, then the tears from my face when I would allow it.
Time would pass in silence, and when I began to get the sense that my dad was ready to leave, I'd chirp out, "stay" in that way children do when they're embarrassed about wanting something.
"Always," my dad would reply; then he'd post up on the floor with my large tomato plushie as a pillow.
One night in particular, it was deep in the night, and I had woken to a tapping sound outside my window. I was so afraid that a monster had snuck into my room while I wasn't looking that I made him lay next to me and face outward. I'd peek my eyes open every minute or so to check and make sure my dad was there, staking out the room. Eventually, he rolled in close and said something that I still remember to this day.
"Hey, baby, guess what." he whispered.
"Mmm" I mumbled.
"I think you scared the monster away."
I tried to picture this through the fog of my fatigue. Something seemed off about the statement, like it wasn't logically possible, but before I could piece together the words to express that, my dad cut back in.
"It was scared because it realized you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is?"
I shook my head, making sure to rub my forehead against his shoulder so he could sense it in the dark room.
"You're greatest power is that you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them. And there's all kinds of stories. Happy ones. Sad ones. Scary ones. Tell me, this monster you think snuck in, would you say he's part of a scary story?"
"I don't know," I said, confused. "Maybe"
"Hmm," he hummed, contemplating. "Well, I want you to remember this. You have the ability to tell any kind of story you want. Maybe there are monsters, but that means there's heroes and angels, too, right?"
I was beginning to doze off to the comforting sound of my dad's deep voice, but I gave another affirmative "Mm-hmm".
"So, if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story. A story that will bring you peace. Do you understand?"
But I was already out.
***
I woke up the next morning to the feeling that someone was in the hotel room with me. The drapes were drawn and the only sound was the AC unit blowing cold air, but when I looked toward the dark corner of the empty coat rack, my mind conjured the face of my dad, smiling at me, chanting that same, awful line—Oh, Lauren… you know who we are.
I was no longer a child, but it took a couple minutes of cold focus before I muscled the courage to ascend from the safety of my covers and flick on the lamp light. The small amber radius extended to where my dad's feet would have been if he was standing there. But there was no one. I let out a sigh and collapsed back onto the mattress, thinking back on all those years growing up. The same man who had helped me conquer my fear of the dark was now the monster hiding in its shadow.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the clock read 10:15. My meeting with Trent was in three hours. I moaned and stretched my arms back until they knocked against the headboard, then I collapsed back onto the mattress, meditating, gathering energy like a compressed spring. All at once, I jumped up and glided over to the drapes, opening them in a single, fluid motion. I grimaced at the sunlight, but the warmth felt good against my face. I stopped by the nightstand and gulped down the final few swigs of a bottle of Mello Yello that I had purchased from a vending machine the previous night, then undressed and hopped in the shower.
The warm water wasn't enough to wash away the previous night's memories. When I closed my eyes to lather my hair, I was back in my living room, standing opposite the demon that had taken on my dad's form. His smile. His laugh. It was like someone in my head was flipping a switch between the man I loved growing up and a terrible monster. But the fear was more powerful. I heard something drop onto the tile floor on the other side of the curtain. The noise made me gasp, and I opened my eyes while shampoo was still streaming down my face. I swiped the shampoo out of my now burning eyes and squinted at the curtain, trying to see through it, but I couldn't make anything out. "I-is anyone," I started, trembling, afraid to finish the sentence. I reached out and pinched the end of the curtain. My heart was in overdrive. I swallowed, then pulled it toward me and peeked out. I scanned the room, but I couldn't see anything out of place.
It wasn't until after I finished showering and wound myself up in one of the hotel's too-small towels that I saw what had made the noise. I bent down and picked up the stub of a razor blade that had fallen onto the tile right next to the puffy, gray shower rug. It wasn't mine, and I was pretty sure hotels didn't keep unguarded razor blades just laying around. When I held it up, it occurred to me that if it had simply fallen a few inches to the left, it would have been buried in the rug, and perhaps I would have stepped on it. I stared at myself in its steely reflection. Cold. Lonely. Small. What if I—was all I was able to think before the blade blinked out of my hand.
I threw on some clothes, packed up the few belongings I had into my purse, then checked out of my room. I didn't feel safe going back home after what happened, but I also didn't want to go anywhere else. I got in my car and drove aimlessly up and down the town's streets, focusing only on the car ahead of me. Anytime I started to travel down an avenue of thought, I'd make a turn, or speed up, or hit the brakes: anything to keep my mind distracted. It was sweltering outside, but I'd turn the heat on for minutes at a time until I felt drenched, then toggle max AC until I was cool, then back to heat. I repeated the basic driving tenet "10 and 2", "10 and 2", "10 and 2" like a mantra—a chant to focus my attention on a single point, and then I pictured that point disappearing. I began to think that maybe I wanted to disappear.
I fully intended to keep going that way until 1:00, but after about thirty minutes, my meandering route had led me to St. Mark's Catholic Church, where a large group of people were gathered around a long line of tables in front of the building. I slowed down. At the front of the venue was a large, white cardboard sign which read, "Plant a Seed, Share the Joy". I wasn't sure what that meant, but my boredom had come to a head, and I rationalized that if there's any place on God's green earth that would be safe, it was this one. I parked along the closest side-street, then walked over to the church.
Rows of white tables were covered with cardboard boxes filled with small plants that were wrapped up in individual paper pots. I watched from a distance as people behind the tables carefully removed the plants, one by one, and offered them to passersby. I continued down the line, a sheep in the herd, and allowed myself to sink into childhood memories. I had somehow made it out the other end near the Narthex when I heard a woman's voice call to me.
"Hey, deary, have you gotten one yet?"
I turned and saw a small, gray-haired lady with rose-colored glasses. "Oh, no," I started, attempting to decline, then paused. The old lady grabbed one of the plants and held it out for me.
"Here," she said. "Come on, I won't bite."
As far as you know, I thought, and stumbled forward with a sigh. "Thanks," I said and took the plant. "What is this all for, anyway?"
"It's a giveaway," the old woman responded. "Staff have been growing these plants—tomatoes and garlic, mainly—so they could offer them to members of the Parish. The idea is to have the members grow the produce, then donate it to St. Mark's Food Pantry to give to those in need."
"Oh, that's actually pretty cool." I replied and inspected my plant which was at present nothing more than a small green stem. "So which kind is this one?"
"That one is—" the old lady stopped and inspected the other plants near where she had grabbed mine—"tomato."
"Tomato," I repeated. "Well, thanks again."
"Of course, dear." the old lady beamed. "We're all responsible for each other."
I nodded, then continued back through the crowd toward my car when, through the large vestibule windows, I saw a Priest speaking to a young couple. It had been a little over a decade since I had attended a service (I stopped going during High School when I started studying other religions), and I didn't recognize this Priest. He was short (just over five feet tall), bald, and African American. He wore the customary black robe and white collar, and there was something in his smile and the way seemed to be affirming the couple that made me yearn to speak with him. I considered for a moment, a bit embarrassed to be stepping back into church after all this time, but the thought of being able to burn ten minutes talking with someone who might have some insight into my situation was too tempting to pass up.
I waited near a portrait of Mary Magdalene, my tomato plant in hand, staring off at the pristine series of stained glass images portraying the death and resurrection of Jesus. About a minute in, the Priest met my eyes; he smiled, his way of telling me he knew I was waiting, then finished up with the couple and made his way over. He had a bit of an accent when he spoke—it was Ugandan, from best I could tell—and a proclivity for laughing at the end of his sentences.
"Hello, Miss, I don't believe I've had the privilege," he said and held out his hand. He leaned in as he spoke, and his smile tugged on the corners of his eyes which were already marked with use.
I shook his hand and returned what I'm sure was a weak smile. "No, I don't think so. My name's Lauren. I used to come here when I was little. It's—been a while."
"Well, I see you picked a good day to visit. If you're into gardening, that is." He remarked with a laugh and gestured toward the plant. "It's nice to meet you, Lauren. My name's Martin—Father Martin, if you prefer."
"Father Martin," I repeated, "I have a friend named Martin. It's a good name."
He laughed and said, "Thank you, I'll pass that one along to my mother. She loves the praise."
I laughed back. He carried himself in such a carefree way that I was put immediately at ease. Almost to the point where I forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. "Um," I started, attempting to word my question in a way that didn't sound like I needed psychiatric help. "I have a couple of religious questions for you, if you have time."
"That's what I'm for. Ask away."
"They're about… miracles. Like the ones in the Bible. I was wondering, do you think that miracles still happen today?"
"Miracles, huh," he started. "You mean like water into wine?"
"Kind of, yeah,"
"Hmm…" he contemplated. "Well, I haven't seen them, myself. You know, I may be a Priest, but I also have a degree in Physics. I think God made the world according to laws, right? But I do think God has the power to intervene. Yes. I just have never seen it… like … you know, the biblical type of miracles. To me, there are miracles happening all around us—miracles we can't see."
"Exactly," I responded, thinking about how no one else could see the blinks, "those kinds of miracles. What are those miracles we can't see?"
One of Father Martin's eyebrows raised and he rubbed his chin. "Well, I think the greatest miracle is the miracle of God's love which was perfected in Christ and offered to each of us. It's his power to heal even the most troubled mind. By coming into alignment with God's will for us, we can see the true purpose of this existence."
No, he's not getting it, I thought. I scrambled to my other entry-point. "What about the story of Job? God made a bet with the Devil that Job would stay faithful to him no matter what the Devil did to him. Do you think that kind of situation is possible?"
Father Martin's expression drooped into a concerned frown. "There's quite the difference between miracles and the story of Job. I suppose I see what you're getting at, though. Job's suffering is in some ways the antithesis to positive miracles. In this life, we are tested, sometimes to the point of losing everything, but even that person who has more reason to hate God than anyone else can once again find peace and eternal happiness through faith. In fact, it's often the person who is lowest in the pit of suffering that needs the Light of Christ more than anyone else."
I thought back on the first night that I prayed. It was in my moment of greatest helplessness that I reached out to God, and I thought I had found my answer in Him. But now, after what happened last night, after all these years of chaos—not merely losing things that were important to me, but my very sanity—I needed more than just blind faith. I couldn't just sit idly by and hope things would get better. I smiled at the Priest and said, "Thank you, Father, this has been very insightful."
"Of course, sister. I'm sorry if I couldn't have been of more help."
"No, I think I understand now. I've been… wrestling with something, and I think God wants me to confront it. I think I've been running away and hiding from it for so long that I'd convinced myself it disappeared."
Father Martin nodded in understanding. "Well, in that case, will you let me leave you with a prayer?"
I was a bit taken off guard by the request, but I accepted. "Sure, Father."
I watched as he made the sign of the cross, then he lifted his hands and closed his eyes. "Dear God, I am so happy to have had the privilege of meeting with Lauren today, especially on a day such as this where we are offering gifts for those who need them. You have heard her desire to confront the things that are troubling her. I ask that you bless her with strength and peace and a clear conscience, that she may overcome these challenges. God, bless us with your spirit, that we may see your hand in our lives. Amen."
"Amen," I said.
As I was leaving, Father Martin called out to me and said, "Oh, just so you know, this Friday at 7 we are having a barbecue at the Parish Center. I would love to see you there, if you're able and wanting."
Turning back, I smiled and said, "Oh, ok, thanks Father. I'll think about it."
The priest nodded, and with a smile, he sent me off.
***
I walked into the Deli at 1:00 on the dot. The customers who had arrived for the lunch rush were already cleaning up their trash and heading out. I dodged past a few of them on my way down the long, narrow path leading to the front counter. While I waited behind a couple of elderly folk who were picking which soup they wanted to pair with their Ultimate Grilled Cheese, I looked around for Trent. He hadn't sent me a picture or any way of contacting him throughout the day, so I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I figured I'd see some man half-hidden behind a newspaper, scouting me out. Maybe I watch too many movies, I thought.
"Ahem, ma'am. You're up." croaked the teenager behind the register.
"Oh, right, sorry" I replied and stepped up to the counter. "Uhh," I muttered, scanning the menu for something that looked edible. "Could I just get…" I made sure to mouth every syllable as they were words of their own.
"We have a deal—the try two combo. Sandwich and a soup for $9.99." the cashier repeated for what was probably the fiftieth time that day.
"Yes, that sounds good. I'll do the Italian sandwich and potato soup. And a drink, please."
After I paid for the food, I wandered around the tables, hoping to find someone who looked like a Trent. I was picturing a short guy, runner's build, with long brown hair, tucked somewhere neatly away in the corner. So I was not prepared when the Hulk's stunt double growled my name from a table smack dab in the middle of the restaurant. He had a pale, square face that was spotted with freckles and a sinking property that comes with the lethal combination of stress and age. His hair was relatively short. Probably it was brown or auburn, but since it was slicked back, it looked almost black. And he wore what looked like janitor coveralls. There was even a cloth tag pinned to his chest which read, "Trent".
"Lauren?" He repeated.
"Yes, that's me." I said and took a seat across from him. I saw a brown tray on the table in front of him, and on the tray was a large, white soup bowl. It was empty and beginning to crust along the edges. He must have been here for some time already. "I didn't know where you'd be, so I was worried we might miss each other. I'm glad you found me though." I said while looking over Trent more thoroughly. His large hands were stretched out in front of him on the table. He wasn't wearing a ring, so he probably wasn't married. And his face, it was stern. He seemed like a no-bullshit kind of guy. Then I saw his eyes. They were sapphire blue—probably the most stunning I'd ever seen.
"We only spoke on the internet, so I hope you don't mind, but I usually run a preliminary test on anyone I meet who claims to have abilities such as yours." Trent said while reaching into his pocket and removing a device that had the size and shape of an electric razor. "All you have to do is look into it. It takes maybe five seconds. Ten at most."
"Oh, um, sure," I said reluctantly. "Do I just—" I asked while reaching for the device.
Trent clicked a button and released the cylindrical head which opened, revealing a glass circle about the size of an iris. "I'll hold it, just look into the center. A red cross should appear, then it'll take the picture."
"Okay…" I replied and did as he instructed, leaning my head forward to look into the device. Sure enough, a red cross appeared. "Is it…" was all I got out before the light turned blue and I saw a gray fog disperse and billow throughout the inside of the tube, extending for what I perceived to be miles. My jaw went slack and I couldn't breathe for maybe five seconds. Then Trent reshuttered the device and turned it over.
"Damn, 72." He said with a hint of shock. "That's the highest I've scanned to date." He looked back at me, more relaxed now, and muttered to himself. "How have you been able to function for this long? At this level, you should basically be half in, half out."
I rubbed my forehead, feeling a mixture of pain and frustration and fatigue and impatience which all poured out at once. "Listen, Trent," I said as sternly as I could, "I came here because you said you knew what was wrong with me and that you could help me. I get you have to make sure I am who I said I am, but now it's your turn to pay up. How do I know you know anything about my condition? You said my mom might still be alive. What does that even mean? I saw her die right in front of me. I want answers."
I waited for Trent to respond, but he only lifted his head. I turned around and saw a girl holding a tray of food.
"Um, hi, sorry to interrupt. I have an order 36 for Lauren."
"Oh, yes, thank you." I said. The worker placed the tray down on the table in front of me, and when I saw the food, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Trent must have also realized this, because he folded his arms and said, "go ahead and eat. I'll explain while you do."
I wanted to protest, but my salivating mouth made other plans. "Fine," I said. I grabbed the metal spoon off the tray and started on the soup, bracing against the steaming heat of the potato chunks.
As I ate, Trent moved all of the items on his tray off to the side, then he flipped the tray over so it was raised slightly off the table. He took his cup and placed it face down in the center, then he rolled up a few of his used, blue mayonnaise packets and charted a track across the tray.
"What are you doing?" I croaked out between bites.
Trent ignored me and continued by ripping up a napkin into strips and placing them alongside the mayonnaise packets. Finally, he snapped ten toothpicks in half and stuck them in the tomb of a dozen overlayed napkins. "It's your diorama," he said at last.
"It's my what?"
"From the story you sent me. Your diorama. When I read about it, it gave me a good idea of how to explain the 'blinking'."
I pointed at the cup in the center. "Is that supposed to be a pyramid? Because I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong geometric neighborhood with that one."
"It's an analogy," he said.
"Of an analogy," I quipped back.
"Look," he picked out one of the toothpicks and held it out in front of me. "This could be a person, an animal, a crowbar—whatever you want. The point is, this diorama is a stand in for our universe. This is everything that exists, that we can see. Okay?"
"Okay,"
"Now, me," Trent placed a hand over his heart. "I'm not in the diorama. I don't exist in the universe."
"In the universe where a cup is a pyramid, or the actual universe?" I said, unable to control myself.
Trent grimaced.
"Sorry, keep going. I get it."
"Things pop into," Trent threw the toothpick back onto the tray, "or out of," he picked the toothpick back up, "our universe at will, based on forces," he patted his chest again, "that exist in other realms" he gestured to the room, "that are connected to our universe," he tapped two fingers against the tray. "These things could be objects, like, say, a toothpick, or entities, like the one you encountered yesterday. The blinking experience that you described aligns with the typical experience of a moderate Antenna. That's what I call people like us—Antennas; because we can pick up on signals others can't."
"We—you mean you see the blinking, too?"
"Yes, but not to the same extent as you. If all the blinks are gathered in a giant picture that you can see, I'm traversing the image through binoculars, maybe even a microscope, depending on where we are."
I thought about this. I guess it was possible there were other people like me out there, but since I had never met anyone, I didn't really consider the idea until now. And then for him to say my ability was somehow much stronger than his… "But," I started, "I haven't even seen that many blinks since I was a child. It's just more focused and malicious now."
"Yeah," Trent scratched his head, "that's the thing that got me really interested in you. Somehow you seem to be able to control it without gear, just by praying. And, look, that's all well and good, but I don't want to give you the false impression that I'm some kind of religious leader. I like to look for logical, scientific explanations for things. So that's the frame I'm coming at this from."
I took a sip from my drink. "That's fine," I said, "the truth is that's why I reached out to you in the first place. I wanted an explanation I could understand. An explanation that was directly related to what I'm going through."
"Then we should get along just fine."
I was scooping out the last potato that was stubbornly gliding along the bottom of the bowl when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the old man from the line shooting up from his bench and standing in army-erect form. I felt a tingling sensation tickle the back of my neck. I didn't want to turn toward him. I knew what I'd see if I did. "Trent," I whispered, trying to tip him off.
"Huh?" he grunted. Then when he saw my expression, he snuck his right hand under the table and said, "Do you see it? Is it here?"
I cocked my head to the left, signaling toward the old man that was now facing us, but Trent didn't seem to notice him: his eyes just kept scanning the entire front of the restaurant. Then I saw the old man take a step in our direction.
"Lauuurennnn, oh Lauuuurennnn, I've been looking for you, Laurenn." The old man said in a low, gravelly voice that gave the impression he was gurgling liquid tar. I turned and saw his face. It was cold and expressionless, and a butter knife was poking out of his left fist. When I met his eyes, he smiled that horrible smile."You're a slippery bitch, you know that?" He spat. "Why can't you just stay put? Don't you get tired of running from your old friend? Or have you forgotten about me?"
"Trent," I mumbled out. "Right there."
"And this guy. You think he can help you? He's only here to help himself. If that's not clear, you really are a lost little lamb."
"Quick, give me your hand," Trent instructed.
I was silent, my eyes still pinned to the old man.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk," the demon possessed senior wagged his finger at me, taking a step, then another step, shortening the distance as much as he could while I was entranced. Then, suddenly, he sprinted forward at a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a man his age.
"Trent!" I screamed.
"Lauren, give me your hand!"
I spun around and grabbed Tren'ts outstretched arm just as the old man lifted the butter knife over his head like a pickaxe. Then I saw Trent pull out what looked like a toy gun from under the table and point it at the demon.
"Got you," Trent remarked. I braced for a gunshot, but there was no noise. After a couple seconds, I looked back and saw the old man sitting in the booth opposite his wife, his hand tremoring as he reached for his large drink.
"What did you?" I asked, but Trent was already pulling me out of my seat. "Come on, we have to go," he said, "the effect is temporary, he'll be—"
Before he could get out the last word, I saw the cup-pyramid on Trent's tray blink out of existence. The sound of a plate shattering rang out from a table up ahead. The lone woman standing there slowly turned around, smiling, with a fork in one hand and a piece of the broken plate in the other. Trent shot her with the toy gun as we ran past and then barreled through the front door.
"Where—are we going?" I asked between gasps.
"My van. It's loaded with kit."
"And then where?"
"Your house" replied Trent who stashed his gun back in his pocket and took out a key fob.
"My house? But that's where he—it appeared."
"Yeah, and that's where you banished it."
Trent waved me into the passenger seat of his RAM 3500 Promaster. I noticed right away the dash which looked more like it belonged in a new limited-edition EV than a cargo van. The ignition kicked on automatically, and I heard the beep of a sonar ping precede an English woman's voice calling out like some auxed-in GPS saying, "scanning for anomalies". Trent shifted the van into gear, and I heard the wheels sputter as we accelerated backward and whipped out of the small parking lot.
"What's your address?" Trent asked. I gave it to him, and then speaking to his dash, he said, "Car, take us to ****."
"Redirecting to ****," replied the British woman. "Currently detecting 31 novel emergences. Updating pings every 300 milliseconds. Chance of contact: 0.23%"
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"The van has sensor equipment which can detect blinks. It's much more accurate than either of us."
"And it sees 31?"
"Yes, that's not as many as it sounds." Trent said and tore past a car that blinked out of existence right as we turned onto the main street.
We drove on for another couple minutes, the Englishwoman updating the number of novel emergences every ten seconds or so. Her constant babbling eventually became a comforting background noise, and I was able to think again.
"In the message you sent me, you said my mom may still be alive." I looked at Trent to see if he would react to me bringing her up, but he remained stolid. "What did you mean by that?"
Trent thumbed his steering wheel. "I shouldn't have sent that." He said at last.
"Shouldn't have… What do you mean? You can't just say that now."
Trent took one hand off the wheel and turned toward me. "Look, we're going back to your house because we need to determine your origin point. All Antennas have them. It's a place of high energy where many realms intersect, kind of like a station, and it's the place where you first acquired your abilities. Based on everything you wrote, I'm guessing that place is where the forest where the accident happened when you were a young child. But I need to confirm it. Once I confirm that that's the place…" Trent hesitated.
"Then… what? You want us to go back there? To the place where my mom died, or at least where I think she died until you told me she might be alive but are now taking it back? That place?"
"It's the only way to—"
"Now detecting novel agent," the Englishwoman interrupted. We both perked up as she gave another update. "Net anomalies: 437. Novel Agents: 1. Chance of contact: 78%."
"Shit," Trent muttered. "Car, course correct."
"Attempting course correct to avoid collision. Attempts made: 10, 50, 75, 79… No alternate route detected. Chance of contact: 96%."
"Time until contact?"
"Time until contact: 13 seconds."
I shuddered. Looking out the front windshield, I saw cars pop out of existence left and right, opening up a clear path to the four way intersection ahead. In a blink, the streetlights all turned green, and then they vanished completely. It was as if the entire world was being stripped down bare, and all that remained was the road, boxed in by the rows of buildings along either side. In the distance I could see a large tanker barreling toward us.
"Trent,"
"I know," he replied and clicked a different button on the console which opened a new toggle for the shifter labeled "TD". He pushed the stick forward, engaging the new mode, then pressed the accelerator all the way to the ground. "You're going to want to hold on."
"What are you doing!?" I yelled, grabbing onto my seatbelt.
"No time to explain. Car, release phase lock."
"Phase lock released."
I watched in horror as the color drained from the road and buildings and sky, transforming it all into a dim tunnel, with only the headlights of the oncoming semi-truck visible up ahead. I had the sudden thought that this was all a dream, just like the ones from my childhood. I looked over and no longer saw Trent, but my mother. And then I realized this wasn't a dream. This was hell. I was being forced to relive the worst moment of my life, over and over again. Just when I thought I had escaped, I was pulled right back into that car, helpless as we approached but never arrived at our impending fate. I closed my eyes right as the lights engulfed the windshield and braced for the usual pain in my chest, for the feeling of breaking.
But it didn't come.
"Shift" was the last word out of Trent's mouth, and then I was infused with the sensation of being at the pinnacle of a roller coaster. I was suspended there for what felt like hours, but somehow I knew that not even a second had passed. Everything inside the van: the dashboard, windows, ceiling, doors, even Trent himself began to radiate enigmatic particles. They were a mass of constant motion, like raindrops falling through the air but never landing. I looked down at my hand, but it was gone. Diffused into an unknowable number of untraceable particles. The world outside, once devoid of color, was now nothing but color. When I tried to focus on a particular spot in the infinite geometric folds of whatever realm we were traversing through, I could sometimes detect a trace of our world.
The old lady from the church. She appeared as if through a window, standing behind a table, holding out a plant. Only this image was so much brighter. And the plant she was holding was pure gold. Then I'd catch a glimpse of the razor blade. It was large, many hundreds of times larger than the van, and surrounded by darkness. These ghostly images appeared like holograms or reflections that caught the light at just the right angle, then dissipated.
I stayed there, looping between the archetypes of my life for a long, long time.
***
I knew we were returning when I felt the first sense of motion. Breath filled my lungs for the first time in what felt like a day. I blinked. And then we were back in town, driving down the same road with the blue sky above. People were jogging on the sidewalk past the little street shops. The streetlights were active. I checked the side mirror and saw the tanker had just passed by.
I looked over at Trent, who met my eyes. We shared a look of knowing, and unknowing. For some reason, that was enough, and we continued on in silence.
***
We agreed to stay the night at my house.
Trent had parked a couple blocks away in front of a couple vacant houses so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. Then he lugged a large duffel bag with his equipment in and set it up in the living room. He scanned the scrapbook which contained the newspaper clippings from the accident several times and confirmed that was likely my 'origin point'. I simply nodded and then went back out onto the back porch. I sat there for hours, basking in the sun. Something had changed in the past day, but I couldn't pick out what it was. Too much had happened. I had too little time to process any of it.
When the sun set, I went inside and Trent told me about his plans for the next couple days. He said he needed to run a few errands in the morning, then meet up with a couple of his associates. After that, we could begin our drive to Southern Illinois. He said it was likely that the entity that was chasing me had first tied itself to me during my childhood accident. For whatever reason, we came into contact, and now it didn't want to leave. Trent would help me get rid of it. He didn't go into many details regarding how that was to happen, but I don't think in my tired state I would have been able to understand much anyway. He had a plan, and that was enough for me. At least for a while.
After our meeting, I made sure Trent had enough pillows and blankets like a proper host, then I retired to my room. I laid down on my twin bed and stared up at the cream-colored ceiling. Then I turned and saw the participation awards for my junior soccer league stashed on my dresser. I pictured myself on the field, running with the ball, out ahead of everyone except the goalie. I took a shot, but it was blocked. Then I ran back to defend. How can such a simple game be so much fun? Was the last thought I had before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up only once during the night. It was still dark out. The room was warm despite the small, flower petal fan churning away, shifting the hot, humid air from one pocket of the room to the next. I waited in apprehension, sensing that something had disturbed me. I saw the tomato plushie peeking out at me from the slightly ajar closet door where I had stashed it so many years ago. I felt like I was missing something. Something important.
And then I heard it.
There was a tapping at my window.
submitted by Weathers_Writing to weatherswriting [link] [comments]
***
Back during the peak of the blinking crisis, I remember having a lot of difficulty sleeping. It was common for me to average only four or five hours a night, and the little sleep I did get was marred by terrible nightmares. One in particular recurred many times.
I was only eight, but somehow I was in the driver's seat of our family's old SUV. My arms were long enough to steady the wheel, but my legs didn't quite meet the pedals. It didn't matter though, since the car seemed content to continue on at a constant pace. I looked over and saw my mom in the passenger seat. Her face was a blurry likeness pieced together from the dozen or so picture's I'd seen of her over the years. I tried to bring her into focus, not only because I missed her dearly, but because she was speaking—pleading, even. She waved frantically at me, then brought her leg up and slammed it down on the floor mat several times. I didn't understand what had her so upset until she pointed out the front windshield, and I saw we were hurdling directly toward a giant tree that had fallen in the middle of the road.
Panicking, I stomped for the brake, but my seatbelt protested and pulled me back like an invigorated dog on a short leash. I sat up and tried clicking it off, but it wouldn't budge. My breaths became hollow cries, and I felt my heart beat against the bars of its bony prison. I grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it to the left, then right, attempting to swerve off the road, but it was as if whatever kind of glue was locking up the seatbelt was also fixing the steering wheel in place.
"Mom! what do I do!?" I yelled, tears streaming from my eyes. She was yelling back at me, but it was as if there was a divider between us, and neither of us could hear each other. I turned back just in time to see the giant Oak tree meet the front bumper, and then I jolted awake with a piercing pain in my chest that radiated up through my throat in the form of a giant scream. My little legs kicked under the covers and tears rained down on my pillow until my dad ran in and knelt at my bed.
"Lauren, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"
I grabbed my pillow and hugged it so my face was covered, then effused a "Mmm-hmm" in a long wheeze while rocking to either side.
"Oh, honey," he soothed and brushed my hair, then the tears from my face when I would allow it.
Time would pass in silence, and when I began to get the sense that my dad was ready to leave, I'd chirp out, "stay" in that way children do when they're embarrassed about wanting something.
"Always," my dad would reply; then he'd post up on the floor with my large tomato plushie as a pillow.
One night in particular, it was deep in the night, and I had woken to a tapping sound outside my window. I was so afraid that a monster had snuck into my room while I wasn't looking that I made him lay next to me and face outward. I'd peek my eyes open every minute or so to check and make sure my dad was there, staking out the room. Eventually, he rolled in close and said something that I still remember to this day.
"Hey, baby, guess what." he whispered.
"Mmm" I mumbled.
"I think you scared the monster away."
I tried to picture this through the fog of my fatigue. Something seemed off about the statement, like it wasn't logically possible, but before I could piece together the words to express that, my dad cut back in.
"It was scared because it realized you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is?"
I shook my head, making sure to rub my forehead against his shoulder so he could sense it in the dark room.
"You're greatest power is that you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them. And there's all kinds of stories. Happy ones. Sad ones. Scary ones. Tell me, this monster you think snuck in, would you say he's part of a scary story?"
"I don't know," I said, confused. "Maybe"
"Hmm," he hummed, contemplating. "Well, I want you to remember this. You have the ability to tell any kind of story you want. Maybe there are monsters, but that means there's heroes and angels, too, right?"
I was beginning to doze off to the comforting sound of my dad's deep voice, but I gave another affirmative "Mm-hmm".
"So, if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story. A story that will bring you peace. Do you understand?"
But I was already out.
***
I woke up the next morning to the feeling that someone was in the hotel room with me. The drapes were drawn and the only sound was the AC unit blowing cold air, but when I looked toward the dark corner of the empty coat rack, my mind conjured the face of my dad, smiling at me, chanting that same, awful line—Oh, Lauren… you know who we are.
I was no longer a child, but it took a couple minutes of cold focus before I muscled the courage to ascend from the safety of my covers and flick on the lamp light. The small amber radius extended to where my dad's feet would have been if he was standing there. But there was no one. I let out a sigh and collapsed back onto the mattress, thinking back on all those years growing up. The same man who had helped me conquer my fear of the dark was now the monster hiding in its shadow.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the clock read 10:15. My meeting with Trent was in three hours. I moaned and stretched my arms back until they knocked against the headboard, then I collapsed back onto the mattress, meditating, gathering energy like a compressed spring. All at once, I jumped up and glided over to the drapes, opening them in a single, fluid motion. I grimaced at the sunlight, but the warmth felt good against my face. I stopped by the nightstand and gulped down the final few swigs of a bottle of Mello Yello that I had purchased from a vending machine the previous night, then undressed and hopped in the shower.
The warm water wasn't enough to wash away the previous night's memories. When I closed my eyes to lather my hair, I was back in my living room, standing opposite the demon that had taken on my dad's form. His smile. His laugh. It was like someone in my head was flipping a switch between the man I loved growing up and a terrible monster. But the fear was more powerful. I heard something drop onto the tile floor on the other side of the curtain. The noise made me gasp, and I opened my eyes while shampoo was still streaming down my face. I swiped the shampoo out of my now burning eyes and squinted at the curtain, trying to see through it, but I couldn't make anything out. "I-is anyone," I started, trembling, afraid to finish the sentence. I reached out and pinched the end of the curtain. My heart was in overdrive. I swallowed, then pulled it toward me and peeked out. I scanned the room, but I couldn't see anything out of place.
It wasn't until after I finished showering and wound myself up in one of the hotel's too-small towels that I saw what had made the noise. I bent down and picked up the stub of a razor blade that had fallen onto the tile right next to the puffy, gray shower rug. It wasn't mine, and I was pretty sure hotels didn't keep unguarded razor blades just laying around. When I held it up, it occurred to me that if it had simply fallen a few inches to the left, it would have been buried in the rug, and perhaps I would have stepped on it. I stared at myself in its steely reflection. Cold. Lonely. Small. What if I—was all I was able to think before the blade blinked out of my hand.
I threw on some clothes, packed up the few belongings I had into my purse, then checked out of my room. I didn't feel safe going back home after what happened, but I also didn't want to go anywhere else. I got in my car and drove aimlessly up and down the town's streets, focusing only on the car ahead of me. Anytime I started to travel down an avenue of thought, I'd make a turn, or speed up, or hit the brakes: anything to keep my mind distracted. It was sweltering outside, but I'd turn the heat on for minutes at a time until I felt drenched, then toggle max AC until I was cool, then back to heat. I repeated the basic driving tenet "10 and 2", "10 and 2", "10 and 2" like a mantra—a chant to focus my attention on a single point, and then I pictured that point disappearing. I began to think that maybe I wanted to disappear.
I fully intended to keep going that way until 1:00, but after about thirty minutes, my meandering route had led me to St. Mark's Catholic Church, where a large group of people were gathered around a long line of tables in front of the building. I slowed down. At the front of the venue was a large, white cardboard sign which read, "Plant a Seed, Share the Joy". I wasn't sure what that meant, but my boredom had come to a head, and I rationalized that if there's any place on God's green earth that would be safe, it was this one. I parked along the closest side-street, then walked over to the church.
Rows of white tables were covered with cardboard boxes filled with small plants that were wrapped up in individual paper pots. I watched from a distance as people behind the tables carefully removed the plants, one by one, and offered them to passersby. I continued down the line, a sheep in the herd, and allowed myself to sink into childhood memories. I had somehow made it out the other end near the Narthex when I heard a woman's voice call to me.
"Hey, deary, have you gotten one yet?"
I turned and saw a small, gray-haired lady with rose-colored glasses. "Oh, no," I started, attempting to decline, then paused. The old lady grabbed one of the plants and held it out for me.
"Here," she said. "Come on, I won't bite."
As far as you know, I thought, and stumbled forward with a sigh. "Thanks," I said and took the plant. "What is this all for, anyway?"
"It's a giveaway," the old woman responded. "Staff have been growing these plants—tomatoes and garlic, mainly—so they could offer them to members of the Parish. The idea is to have the members grow the produce, then donate it to St. Mark's Food Pantry to give to those in need."
"Oh, that's actually pretty cool." I replied and inspected my plant which was at present nothing more than a small green stem. "So which kind is this one?"
"That one is—" the old lady stopped and inspected the other plants near where she had grabbed mine—"tomato."
"Tomato," I repeated. "Well, thanks again."
"Of course, dear." the old lady beamed. "We're all responsible for each other."
I nodded, then continued back through the crowd toward my car when, through the large vestibule windows, I saw a Priest speaking to a young couple. It had been a little over a decade since I had attended a service (I stopped going during High School when I started studying other religions), and I didn't recognize this Priest. He was short (just over five feet tall), bald, and African American. He wore the customary black robe and white collar, and there was something in his smile and the way seemed to be affirming the couple that made me yearn to speak with him. I considered for a moment, a bit embarrassed to be stepping back into church after all this time, but the thought of being able to burn ten minutes talking with someone who might have some insight into my situation was too tempting to pass up.
I waited near a portrait of Mary Magdalene, my tomato plant in hand, staring off at the pristine series of stained glass images portraying the death and resurrection of Jesus. About a minute in, the Priest met my eyes; he smiled, his way of telling me he knew I was waiting, then finished up with the couple and made his way over. He had a bit of an accent when he spoke—it was Ugandan, from best I could tell—and a proclivity for laughing at the end of his sentences.
"Hello, Miss, I don't believe I've had the privilege," he said and held out his hand. He leaned in as he spoke, and his smile tugged on the corners of his eyes which were already marked with use.
I shook his hand and returned what I'm sure was a weak smile. "No, I don't think so. My name's Lauren. I used to come here when I was little. It's—been a while."
"Well, I see you picked a good day to visit. If you're into gardening, that is." He remarked with a laugh and gestured toward the plant. "It's nice to meet you, Lauren. My name's Martin—Father Martin, if you prefer."
"Father Martin," I repeated, "I have a friend named Martin. It's a good name."
He laughed and said, "Thank you, I'll pass that one along to my mother. She loves the praise."
I laughed back. He carried himself in such a carefree way that I was put immediately at ease. Almost to the point where I forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. "Um," I started, attempting to word my question in a way that didn't sound like I needed psychiatric help. "I have a couple of religious questions for you, if you have time."
"That's what I'm for. Ask away."
"They're about… miracles. Like the ones in the Bible. I was wondering, do you think that miracles still happen today?"
"Miracles, huh," he started. "You mean like water into wine?"
"Kind of, yeah,"
"Hmm…" he contemplated. "Well, I haven't seen them, myself. You know, I may be a Priest, but I also have a degree in Physics. I think God made the world according to laws, right? But I do think God has the power to intervene. Yes. I just have never seen it… like … you know, the biblical type of miracles. To me, there are miracles happening all around us—miracles we can't see."
"Exactly," I responded, thinking about how no one else could see the blinks, "those kinds of miracles. What are those miracles we can't see?"
One of Father Martin's eyebrows raised and he rubbed his chin. "Well, I think the greatest miracle is the miracle of God's love which was perfected in Christ and offered to each of us. It's his power to heal even the most troubled mind. By coming into alignment with God's will for us, we can see the true purpose of this existence."
No, he's not getting it, I thought. I scrambled to my other entry-point. "What about the story of Job? God made a bet with the Devil that Job would stay faithful to him no matter what the Devil did to him. Do you think that kind of situation is possible?"
Father Martin's expression drooped into a concerned frown. "There's quite the difference between miracles and the story of Job. I suppose I see what you're getting at, though. Job's suffering is in some ways the antithesis to positive miracles. In this life, we are tested, sometimes to the point of losing everything, but even that person who has more reason to hate God than anyone else can once again find peace and eternal happiness through faith. In fact, it's often the person who is lowest in the pit of suffering that needs the Light of Christ more than anyone else."
I thought back on the first night that I prayed. It was in my moment of greatest helplessness that I reached out to God, and I thought I had found my answer in Him. But now, after what happened last night, after all these years of chaos—not merely losing things that were important to me, but my very sanity—I needed more than just blind faith. I couldn't just sit idly by and hope things would get better. I smiled at the Priest and said, "Thank you, Father, this has been very insightful."
"Of course, sister. I'm sorry if I couldn't have been of more help."
"No, I think I understand now. I've been… wrestling with something, and I think God wants me to confront it. I think I've been running away and hiding from it for so long that I'd convinced myself it disappeared."
Father Martin nodded in understanding. "Well, in that case, will you let me leave you with a prayer?"
I was a bit taken off guard by the request, but I accepted. "Sure, Father."
I watched as he made the sign of the cross, then he lifted his hands and closed his eyes. "Dear God, I am so happy to have had the privilege of meeting with Lauren today, especially on a day such as this where we are offering gifts for those who need them. You have heard her desire to confront the things that are troubling her. I ask that you bless her with strength and peace and a clear conscience, that she may overcome these challenges. God, bless us with your spirit, that we may see your hand in our lives. Amen."
"Amen," I said.
As I was leaving, Father Martin called out to me and said, "Oh, just so you know, this Friday at 7 we are having a barbecue at the Parish Center. I would love to see you there, if you're able and wanting."
Turning back, I smiled and said, "Oh, ok, thanks Father. I'll think about it."
The priest nodded, and with a smile, he sent me off.
***
I walked into the Deli at 1:00 on the dot. The customers who had arrived for the lunch rush were already cleaning up their trash and heading out. I dodged past a few of them on my way down the long, narrow path leading to the front counter. While I waited behind a couple of elderly folk who were picking which soup they wanted to pair with their Ultimate Grilled Cheese, I looked around for Trent. He hadn't sent me a picture or any way of contacting him throughout the day, so I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I figured I'd see some man half-hidden behind a newspaper, scouting me out. Maybe I watch too many movies, I thought.
"Ahem, ma'am. You're up." croaked the teenager behind the register.
"Oh, right, sorry" I replied and stepped up to the counter. "Uhh," I muttered, scanning the menu for something that looked edible. "Could I just get…" I made sure to mouth every syllable as they were words of their own.
"We have a deal—the try two combo. Sandwich and a soup for $9.99." the cashier repeated for what was probably the fiftieth time that day.
"Yes, that sounds good. I'll do the Italian sandwich and potato soup. And a drink, please."
After I paid for the food, I wandered around the tables, hoping to find someone who looked like a Trent. I was picturing a short guy, runner's build, with long brown hair, tucked somewhere neatly away in the corner. So I was not prepared when the Hulk's stunt double growled my name from a table smack dab in the middle of the restaurant. He had a pale, square face that was spotted with freckles and a sinking property that comes with the lethal combination of stress and age. His hair was relatively short. Probably it was brown or auburn, but since it was slicked back, it looked almost black. And he wore what looked like janitor coveralls. There was even a cloth tag pinned to his chest which read, "Trent".
"Lauren?" He repeated.
"Yes, that's me." I said and took a seat across from him. I saw a brown tray on the table in front of him, and on the tray was a large, white soup bowl. It was empty and beginning to crust along the edges. He must have been here for some time already. "I didn't know where you'd be, so I was worried we might miss each other. I'm glad you found me though." I said while looking over Trent more thoroughly. His large hands were stretched out in front of him on the table. He wasn't wearing a ring, so he probably wasn't married. And his face, it was stern. He seemed like a no-bullshit kind of guy. Then I saw his eyes. They were sapphire blue—probably the most stunning I'd ever seen.
"We only spoke on the internet, so I hope you don't mind, but I usually run a preliminary test on anyone I meet who claims to have abilities such as yours." Trent said while reaching into his pocket and removing a device that had the size and shape of an electric razor. "All you have to do is look into it. It takes maybe five seconds. Ten at most."
"Oh, um, sure," I said reluctantly. "Do I just—" I asked while reaching for the device.
Trent clicked a button and released the cylindrical head which opened, revealing a glass circle about the size of an iris. "I'll hold it, just look into the center. A red cross should appear, then it'll take the picture."
"Okay…" I replied and did as he instructed, leaning my head forward to look into the device. Sure enough, a red cross appeared. "Is it…" was all I got out before the light turned blue and I saw a gray fog disperse and billow throughout the inside of the tube, extending for what I perceived to be miles. My jaw went slack and I couldn't breathe for maybe five seconds. Then Trent reshuttered the device and turned it over.
"Damn, 72." He said with a hint of shock. "That's the highest I've scanned to date." He looked back at me, more relaxed now, and muttered to himself. "How have you been able to function for this long? At this level, you should basically be half in, half out."
I rubbed my forehead, feeling a mixture of pain and frustration and fatigue and impatience which all poured out at once. "Listen, Trent," I said as sternly as I could, "I came here because you said you knew what was wrong with me and that you could help me. I get you have to make sure I am who I said I am, but now it's your turn to pay up. How do I know you know anything about my condition? You said my mom might still be alive. What does that even mean? I saw her die right in front of me. I want answers."
I waited for Trent to respond, but he only lifted his head. I turned around and saw a girl holding a tray of food.
"Um, hi, sorry to interrupt. I have an order 36 for Lauren."
"Oh, yes, thank you." I said. The worker placed the tray down on the table in front of me, and when I saw the food, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Trent must have also realized this, because he folded his arms and said, "go ahead and eat. I'll explain while you do."
I wanted to protest, but my salivating mouth made other plans. "Fine," I said. I grabbed the metal spoon off the tray and started on the soup, bracing against the steaming heat of the potato chunks.
As I ate, Trent moved all of the items on his tray off to the side, then he flipped the tray over so it was raised slightly off the table. He took his cup and placed it face down in the center, then he rolled up a few of his used, blue mayonnaise packets and charted a track across the tray.
"What are you doing?" I croaked out between bites.
Trent ignored me and continued by ripping up a napkin into strips and placing them alongside the mayonnaise packets. Finally, he snapped ten toothpicks in half and stuck them in the tomb of a dozen overlayed napkins. "It's your diorama," he said at last.
"It's my what?"
"From the story you sent me. Your diorama. When I read about it, it gave me a good idea of how to explain the 'blinking'."
I pointed at the cup in the center. "Is that supposed to be a pyramid? Because I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong geometric neighborhood with that one."
"It's an analogy," he said.
"Of an analogy," I quipped back.
"Look," he picked out one of the toothpicks and held it out in front of me. "This could be a person, an animal, a crowbar—whatever you want. The point is, this diorama is a stand in for our universe. This is everything that exists, that we can see. Okay?"
"Okay,"
"Now, me," Trent placed a hand over his heart. "I'm not in the diorama. I don't exist in the universe."
"In the universe where a cup is a pyramid, or the actual universe?" I said, unable to control myself.
Trent grimaced.
"Sorry, keep going. I get it."
"Things pop into," Trent threw the toothpick back onto the tray, "or out of," he picked the toothpick back up, "our universe at will, based on forces," he patted his chest again, "that exist in other realms" he gestured to the room, "that are connected to our universe," he tapped two fingers against the tray. "These things could be objects, like, say, a toothpick, or entities, like the one you encountered yesterday. The blinking experience that you described aligns with the typical experience of a moderate Antenna. That's what I call people like us—Antennas; because we can pick up on signals others can't."
"We—you mean you see the blinking, too?"
"Yes, but not to the same extent as you. If all the blinks are gathered in a giant picture that you can see, I'm traversing the image through binoculars, maybe even a microscope, depending on where we are."
I thought about this. I guess it was possible there were other people like me out there, but since I had never met anyone, I didn't really consider the idea until now. And then for him to say my ability was somehow much stronger than his… "But," I started, "I haven't even seen that many blinks since I was a child. It's just more focused and malicious now."
"Yeah," Trent scratched his head, "that's the thing that got me really interested in you. Somehow you seem to be able to control it without gear, just by praying. And, look, that's all well and good, but I don't want to give you the false impression that I'm some kind of religious leader. I like to look for logical, scientific explanations for things. So that's the frame I'm coming at this from."
I took a sip from my drink. "That's fine," I said, "the truth is that's why I reached out to you in the first place. I wanted an explanation I could understand. An explanation that was directly related to what I'm going through."
"Then we should get along just fine."
I was scooping out the last potato that was stubbornly gliding along the bottom of the bowl when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the old man from the line shooting up from his bench and standing in army-erect form. I felt a tingling sensation tickle the back of my neck. I didn't want to turn toward him. I knew what I'd see if I did. "Trent," I whispered, trying to tip him off.
"Huh?" he grunted. Then when he saw my expression, he snuck his right hand under the table and said, "Do you see it? Is it here?"
I cocked my head to the left, signaling toward the old man that was now facing us, but Trent didn't seem to notice him: his eyes just kept scanning the entire front of the restaurant. Then I saw the old man take a step in our direction.
"Lauuurennnn, oh Lauuuurennnn, I've been looking for you, Laurenn." The old man said in a low, gravelly voice that gave the impression he was gurgling liquid tar. I turned and saw his face. It was cold and expressionless, and a butter knife was poking out of his left fist. When I met his eyes, he smiled that horrible smile."You're a slippery bitch, you know that?" He spat. "Why can't you just stay put? Don't you get tired of running from your old friend? Or have you forgotten about me?"
"Trent," I mumbled out. "Right there."
"And this guy. You think he can help you? He's only here to help himself. If that's not clear, you really are a lost little lamb."
"Quick, give me your hand," Trent instructed.
I was silent, my eyes still pinned to the old man.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk," the demon possessed senior wagged his finger at me, taking a step, then another step, shortening the distance as much as he could while I was entranced. Then, suddenly, he sprinted forward at a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a man his age.
"Trent!" I screamed.
"Lauren, give me your hand!"
I spun around and grabbed Tren'ts outstretched arm just as the old man lifted the butter knife over his head like a pickaxe. Then I saw Trent pull out what looked like a toy gun from under the table and point it at the demon.
"Got you," Trent remarked. I braced for a gunshot, but there was no noise. After a couple seconds, I looked back and saw the old man sitting in the booth opposite his wife, his hand tremoring as he reached for his large drink.
"What did you?" I asked, but Trent was already pulling me out of my seat. "Come on, we have to go," he said, "the effect is temporary, he'll be—"
Before he could get out the last word, I saw the cup-pyramid on Trent's tray blink out of existence. The sound of a plate shattering rang out from a table up ahead. The lone woman standing there slowly turned around, smiling, with a fork in one hand and a piece of the broken plate in the other. Trent shot her with the toy gun as we ran past and then barreled through the front door.
"Where—are we going?" I asked between gasps.
"My van. It's loaded with kit."
"And then where?"
"Your house" replied Trent who stashed his gun back in his pocket and took out a key fob.
"My house? But that's where he—it appeared."
"Yeah, and that's where you banished it."
Trent waved me into the passenger seat of his RAM 3500 Promaster. I noticed right away the dash which looked more like it belonged in a new limited-edition EV than a cargo van. The ignition kicked on automatically, and I heard the beep of a sonar ping precede an English woman's voice calling out like some auxed-in GPS saying, "scanning for anomalies". Trent shifted the van into gear, and I heard the wheels sputter as we accelerated backward and whipped out of the small parking lot.
"What's your address?" Trent asked. I gave it to him, and then speaking to his dash, he said, "Car, take us to ****."
"Redirecting to ****," replied the British woman. "Currently detecting 31 novel emergences. Updating pings every 300 milliseconds. Chance of contact: 0.23%"
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"The van has sensor equipment which can detect blinks. It's much more accurate than either of us."
"And it sees 31?"
"Yes, that's not as many as it sounds." Trent said and tore past a car that blinked out of existence right as we turned onto the main street.
We drove on for another couple minutes, the Englishwoman updating the number of novel emergences every ten seconds or so. Her constant babbling eventually became a comforting background noise, and I was able to think again.
"In the message you sent me, you said my mom may still be alive." I looked at Trent to see if he would react to me bringing her up, but he remained stolid. "What did you mean by that?"
Trent thumbed his steering wheel. "I shouldn't have sent that." He said at last.
"Shouldn't have… What do you mean? You can't just say that now."
Trent took one hand off the wheel and turned toward me. "Look, we're going back to your house because we need to determine your origin point. All Antennas have them. It's a place of high energy where many realms intersect, kind of like a station, and it's the place where you first acquired your abilities. Based on everything you wrote, I'm guessing that place is where the forest where the accident happened when you were a young child. But I need to confirm it. Once I confirm that that's the place…" Trent hesitated.
"Then… what? You want us to go back there? To the place where my mom died, or at least where I think she died until you told me she might be alive but are now taking it back? That place?"
"It's the only way to—"
"Now detecting novel agent," the Englishwoman interrupted. We both perked up as she gave another update. "Net anomalies: 437. Novel Agents: 1. Chance of contact: 78%."
"Shit," Trent muttered. "Car, course correct."
"Attempting course correct to avoid collision. Attempts made: 10, 50, 75, 79… No alternate route detected. Chance of contact: 96%."
"Time until contact?"
"Time until contact: 13 seconds."
I shuddered. Looking out the front windshield, I saw cars pop out of existence left and right, opening up a clear path to the four way intersection ahead. In a blink, the streetlights all turned green, and then they vanished completely. It was as if the entire world was being stripped down bare, and all that remained was the road, boxed in by the rows of buildings along either side. In the distance I could see a large tanker barreling toward us.
"Trent,"
"I know," he replied and clicked a different button on the console which opened a new toggle for the shifter labeled "TD". He pushed the stick forward, engaging the new mode, then pressed the accelerator all the way to the ground. "You're going to want to hold on."
"What are you doing!?" I yelled, grabbing onto my seatbelt.
"No time to explain. Car, release phase lock."
"Phase lock released."
I watched in horror as the color drained from the road and buildings and sky, transforming it all into a dim tunnel, with only the headlights of the oncoming semi-truck visible up ahead. I had the sudden thought that this was all a dream, just like the ones from my childhood. I looked over and no longer saw Trent, but my mother. And then I realized this wasn't a dream. This was hell. I was being forced to relive the worst moment of my life, over and over again. Just when I thought I had escaped, I was pulled right back into that car, helpless as we approached but never arrived at our impending fate. I closed my eyes right as the lights engulfed the windshield and braced for the usual pain in my chest, for the feeling of breaking.
But it didn't come.
"Shift" was the last word out of Trent's mouth, and then I was infused with the sensation of being at the pinnacle of a roller coaster. I was suspended there for what felt like hours, but somehow I knew that not even a second had passed. Everything inside the van: the dashboard, windows, ceiling, doors, even Trent himself began to radiate enigmatic particles. They were a mass of constant motion, like raindrops falling through the air but never landing. I looked down at my hand, but it was gone. Diffused into an unknowable number of untraceable particles. The world outside, once devoid of color, was now nothing but color. When I tried to focus on a particular spot in the infinite geometric folds of whatever realm we were traversing through, I could sometimes detect a trace of our world.
The old lady from the church. She appeared as if through a window, standing behind a table, holding out a plant. Only this image was so much brighter. And the plant she was holding was pure gold. Then I'd catch a glimpse of the razor blade. It was large, many hundreds of times larger than the van, and surrounded by darkness. These ghostly images appeared like holograms or reflections that caught the light at just the right angle, then dissipated.
I stayed there, looping between the archetypes of my life for a long, long time.
***
I knew we were returning when I felt the first sense of motion. Breath filled my lungs for the first time in what felt like a day. I blinked. And then we were back in town, driving down the same road with the blue sky above. People were jogging on the sidewalk past the little street shops. The streetlights were active. I checked the side mirror and saw the tanker had just passed by.
I looked over at Trent, who met my eyes. We shared a look of knowing, and unknowing. For some reason, that was enough, and we continued on in silence.
***
We agreed to stay the night at my house.
Trent had parked a couple blocks away in front of a couple vacant houses so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. Then he lugged a large duffel bag with his equipment in and set it up in the living room. He scanned the scrapbook which contained the newspaper clippings from the accident several times and confirmed that was likely my 'origin point'. I simply nodded and then went back out onto the back porch. I sat there for hours, basking in the sun. Something had changed in the past day, but I couldn't pick out what it was. Too much had happened. I had too little time to process any of it.
When the sun set, I went inside and Trent told me about his plans for the next couple days. He said he needed to run a few errands in the morning, then meet up with a couple of his associates. After that, we could begin our drive to Southern Illinois. He said it was likely that the entity that was chasing me had first tied itself to me during my childhood accident. For whatever reason, we came into contact, and now it didn't want to leave. Trent would help me get rid of it. He didn't go into many details regarding how that was to happen, but I don't think in my tired state I would have been able to understand much anyway. He had a plan, and that was enough for me. At least for a while.
After our meeting, I made sure Trent had enough pillows and blankets like a proper host, then I retired to my room. I laid down on my twin bed and stared up at the cream-colored ceiling. Then I turned and saw the participation awards for my junior soccer league stashed on my dresser. I pictured myself on the field, running with the ball, out ahead of everyone except the goalie. I took a shot, but it was blocked. Then I ran back to defend. How can such a simple game be so much fun? Was the last thought I had before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up only once during the night. It was still dark out. The room was warm despite the small, flower petal fan churning away, shifting the hot, humid air from one pocket of the room to the next. I waited in apprehension, sensing that something had disturbed me. I saw the tomato plushie peeking out at me from the slightly ajar closet door where I had stashed it so many years ago. I felt like I was missing something. Something important.
And then I heard it.
There was a tapping at my window.
2024.05.21 16:51 Weathers_Writing I think God might be real, just not in the way you think (Part 2)
Part 1
First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for their kind words and support from the last post. A lot has happened since then, and a bunch of context is needed, so I hope you'll bear with me as I explain the details.
***
Back during the peak of the blinking crisis, I remember having a lot of difficulty sleeping. It was common for me to average only four or five hours a night, and the little sleep I did get was marred by terrible nightmares. One in particular recurred many times.
I was only eight, but somehow I was in the driver's seat of our family's old SUV. My arms were long enough to steady the wheel, but my legs didn't quite meet the pedals. It didn't matter though, since the car seemed content to continue on at a constant pace. I looked over and saw my mom in the passenger seat. Her face was a blurry likeness pieced together from the dozen or so picture's I'd seen of her over the years. I tried to bring her into focus, not only because I missed her dearly, but because she was speaking—pleading, even. She waved frantically at me, then brought her leg up and slammed it down on the floor mat several times. I didn't understand what had her so upset until she pointed out the front windshield, and I saw we were hurdling directly toward a giant tree that had fallen in the middle of the road.
Panicking, I stomped for the brake, but my seatbelt protested and pulled me back like an invigorated dog on a short leash. I sat up and tried clicking it off, but it wouldn't budge. My breaths became hollow cries, and I felt my heart beat against the bars of its bony prison. I grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it to the left, then right, attempting to swerve off the road, but it was as if whatever kind of glue was locking up the seatbelt was also fixing the steering wheel in place.
"Mom! what do I do!?" I yelled, tears streaming from my eyes. She was yelling back at me, but it was as if there was a divider between us, and neither of us could hear each other. I turned back just in time to see the giant Oak tree meet the front bumper, and then I jolted awake with a piercing pain in my chest that radiated up through my throat in the form of a giant scream. My little legs kicked under the covers and tears rained down on my pillow until my dad ran in and knelt at my bed.
"Lauren, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"
I grabbed my pillow and hugged it so my face was covered, then effused a "Mmm-hmm" in a long wheeze while rocking to either side.
"Oh, honey," he soothed and brushed my hair, then the tears from my face when I would allow it.
Time would pass in silence, and when I began to get the sense that my dad was ready to leave, I'd chirp out, "stay" in that way children do when they're embarrassed about wanting something.
"Always," my dad would reply; then he'd post up on the floor with my large tomato plushie as a pillow.
One night in particular, it was deep in the night, and I had woken to a tapping sound outside my window. I was so afraid that a monster had snuck into my room while I wasn't looking that I made him lay next to me and face outward. I'd peek my eyes open every minute or so to check and make sure my dad was there, staking out the room. Eventually, he rolled in close and said something that I still remember to this day.
"Hey, baby, guess what." he whispered.
"Mmm" I mumbled.
"I think you scared the monster away."
I tried to picture this through the fog of my fatigue. Something seemed off about the statement, like it wasn't logically possible, but before I could piece together the words to express that, my dad cut back in.
"It was scared because it realized you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is?"
I shook my head, making sure to rub my forehead against his shoulder so he could sense it in the dark room.
"You're greatest power is that you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them. And there's all kinds of stories. Happy ones. Sad ones. Scary ones. Tell me, this monster you think snuck in, would you say he's part of a scary story?"
"I don't know," I said, confused. "Maybe"
"Hmm," he hummed, contemplating. "Well, I want you to remember this. You have the ability to tell any kind of story you want. Maybe there are monsters, but that means there's heroes and angels, too, right?"
I was beginning to doze off to the comforting sound of my dad's deep voice, but I gave another affirmative "Mm-hmm".
"So, if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story. A story that will bring you peace. Do you understand?"
But I was already out.
***
I woke up the next morning to the feeling that someone was in the hotel room with me. The drapes were drawn and the only sound was the AC unit blowing cold air, but when I looked toward the dark corner of the empty coat rack, my mind conjured the face of my dad, smiling at me, chanting that same, awful line—Oh, Lauren… you know who we are.
I was no longer a child, but it took a couple minutes of cold focus before I muscled the courage to ascend from the safety of my covers and flick on the lamp light. The small amber radius extended to where my dad's feet would have been if he was standing there. But there was no one. I let out a sigh and collapsed back onto the mattress, thinking back on all those years growing up. The same man who had helped me conquer my fear of the dark was now the monster hiding in its shadow.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the clock read 10:15. My meeting with Trent was in three hours. I moaned and stretched my arms back until they knocked against the headboard, then I collapsed back onto the mattress, meditating, gathering energy like a compressed spring. All at once, I jumped up and glided over to the drapes, opening them in a single, fluid motion. I grimaced at the sunlight, but the warmth felt good against my face. I stopped by the nightstand and gulped down the final few swigs of a bottle of Mello Yello that I had purchased from a vending machine the previous night, then undressed and hopped in the shower.
The warm water wasn't enough to wash away the previous night's memories. When I closed my eyes to lather my hair, I was back in my living room, standing opposite the demon that had taken on my dad's form. His smile. His laugh. It was like someone in my head was flipping a switch between the man I loved growing up and a terrible monster. But the fear was more powerful. I heard something drop onto the tile floor on the other side of the curtain. The noise made me gasp, and I opened my eyes while shampoo was still streaming down my face. I swiped the shampoo out of my now burning eyes and squinted at the curtain, trying to see through it, but I couldn't make anything out. "I-is anyone," I started, trembling, afraid to finish the sentence. I reached out and pinched the end of the curtain. My heart was in overdrive. I swallowed, then pulled it toward me and peeked out. I scanned the room, but I couldn't see anything out of place.
It wasn't until after I finished showering and wound myself up in one of the hotel's too-small towels that I saw what had made the noise. I bent down and picked up the stub of a razor blade that had fallen onto the tile right next to the puffy, gray shower rug. It wasn't mine, and I was pretty sure hotels didn't keep unguarded razor blades just laying around. When I held it up, it occurred to me that if it had simply fallen a few inches to the left, it would have been buried in the rug, and perhaps I would have stepped on it. I stared at myself in its steely reflection. Cold. Lonely. Small. What if I—was all I was able to think before the blade blinked out of my hand.
I threw on some clothes, packed up the few belongings I had into my purse, then checked out of my room. I didn't feel safe going back home after what happened, but I also didn't want to go anywhere else. I got in my car and drove aimlessly up and down the town's streets, focusing only on the car ahead of me. Anytime I started to travel down an avenue of thought, I'd make a turn, or speed up, or hit the brakes: anything to keep my mind distracted. It was sweltering outside, but I'd turn the heat on for minutes at a time until I felt drenched, then toggle max AC until I was cool, then back to heat. I repeated the basic driving tenet "10 and 2", "10 and 2", "10 and 2" like a mantra—a chant to focus my attention on a single point, and then I pictured that point disappearing. I began to think that maybe I wanted to disappear.
I fully intended to keep going that way until 1:00, but after about thirty minutes, my meandering route had led me to St. Mark's Catholic Church, where a large group of people were gathered around a long line of tables in front of the building. I slowed down. At the front of the venue was a large, white cardboard sign which read, "Plant a Seed, Share the Joy". I wasn't sure what that meant, but my boredom had come to a head, and I rationalized that if there's any place on God's green earth that would be safe, it was this one. I parked along the closest side-street, then walked over to the church.
Rows of white tables were covered with cardboard boxes filled with small plants that were wrapped up in individual paper pots. I watched from a distance as people behind the tables carefully removed the plants, one by one, and offered them to passersby. I continued down the line, a sheep in the herd, and allowed myself to sink into childhood memories. I had somehow made it out the other end near the Narthex when I heard a woman's voice call to me.
"Hey, deary, have you gotten one yet?"
I turned and saw a small, gray-haired lady with rose-colored glasses. "Oh, no," I started, attempting to decline, then paused. The old lady grabbed one of the plants and held it out for me.
"Here," she said. "Come on, I won't bite."
As far as you know, I thought, and stumbled forward with a sigh. "Thanks," I said and took the plant. "What is this all for, anyway?"
"It's a giveaway," the old woman responded. "Staff have been growing these plants—tomatoes and garlic, mainly—so they could offer them to members of the Parish. The idea is to have the members grow the produce, then donate it to St. Mark's Food Pantry to give to those in need."
"Oh, that's actually pretty cool." I replied and inspected my plant which was at present nothing more than a small green stem. "So which kind is this one?"
"That one is—" the old lady stopped and inspected the other plants near where she had grabbed mine—"tomato."
"Tomato," I repeated. "Well, thanks again."
"Of course, dear." the old lady beamed. "We're all responsible for each other."
I nodded, then continued back through the crowd toward my car when, through the large vestibule windows, I saw a Priest speaking to a young couple. It had been a little over a decade since I had attended a service (I stopped going during High School when I started studying other religions), and I didn't recognize this Priest. He was short (just over five feet tall), bald, and African American. He wore the customary black robe and white collar, and there was something in his smile and the way seemed to be affirming the couple that made me yearn to speak with him. I considered for a moment, a bit embarrassed to be stepping back into church after all this time, but the thought of being able to burn ten minutes talking with someone who might have some insight into my situation was too tempting to pass up.
I waited near a portrait of Mary Magdalene, my tomato plant in hand, staring off at the pristine series of stained glass images portraying the death and resurrection of Jesus. About a minute in, the Priest met my eyes; he smiled, his way of telling me he knew I was waiting, then finished up with the couple and made his way over. He had a bit of an accent when he spoke—it was Ugandan, from best I could tell—and a proclivity for laughing at the end of his sentences.
"Hello, Miss, I don't believe I've had the privilege," he said and held out his hand. He leaned in as he spoke, and his smile tugged on the corners of his eyes which were already marked with use.
I shook his hand and returned what I'm sure was a weak smile. "No, I don't think so. My name's Lauren. I used to come here when I was little. It's—been a while."
"Well, I see you picked a good day to visit. If you're into gardening, that is." He remarked with a laugh and gestured toward the plant. "It's nice to meet you, Lauren. My name's Martin—Father Martin, if you prefer."
"Father Martin," I repeated, "I have a friend named Martin. It's a good name."
He laughed and said, "Thank you, I'll pass that one along to my mother. She loves the praise."
I laughed back. He carried himself in such a carefree way that I was put immediately at ease. Almost to the point where I forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. "Um," I started, attempting to word my question in a way that didn't sound like I needed psychiatric help. "I have a couple of religious questions for you, if you have time."
"That's what I'm for. Ask away."
"They're about… miracles. Like the ones in the Bible. I was wondering, do you think that miracles still happen today?"
"Miracles, huh," he started. "You mean like water into wine?"
"Kind of, yeah,"
"Hmm…" he contemplated. "Well, I haven't seen them, myself. You know, I may be a Priest, but I also have a degree in Physics. I think God made the world according to laws, right? But I do think God has the power to intervene. Yes. I just have never seen it… like … you know, the biblical type of miracles. To me, there are miracles happening all around us—miracles we can't see."
"Exactly," I responded, thinking about how no one else could see the blinks, "those kinds of miracles. What are those miracles we can't see?"
One of Father Martin's eyebrows raised and he rubbed his chin. "Well, I think the greatest miracle is the miracle of God's love which was perfected in Christ and offered to each of us. It's his power to heal even the most troubled mind. By coming into alignment with God's will for us, we can see the true purpose of this existence."
No, he's not getting it, I thought. I scrambled to my other entry-point. "What about the story of Job? God made a bet with the Devil that Job would stay faithful to him no matter what the Devil did to him. Do you think that kind of situation is possible?"
Father Martin's expression drooped into a concerned frown. "There's quite the difference between miracles and the story of Job. I suppose I see what you're getting at, though. Job's suffering is in some ways the antithesis to positive miracles. In this life, we are tested, sometimes to the point of losing everything, but even that person who has more reason to hate God than anyone else can once again find peace and eternal happiness through faith. In fact, it's often the person who is lowest in the pit of suffering that needs the Light of Christ more than anyone else."
I thought back on the first night that I prayed. It was in my moment of greatest helplessness that I reached out to God, and I thought I had found my answer in Him. But now, after what happened last night, after all these years of chaos—not merely losing things that were important to me, but my very sanity—I needed more than just blind faith. I couldn't just sit idly by and hope things would get better. I smiled at the Priest and said, "Thank you, Father, this has been very insightful."
"Of course, sister. I'm sorry if I couldn't have been of more help."
"No, I think I understand now. I've been… wrestling with something, and I think God wants me to confront it. I think I've been running away and hiding from it for so long that I'd convinced myself it disappeared."
Father Martin nodded in understanding. "Well, in that case, will you let me leave you with a prayer?"
I was a bit taken off guard by the request, but I accepted. "Sure, Father."
I watched as he made the sign of the cross, then he lifted his hands and closed his eyes. "Dear God, I am so happy to have had the privilege of meeting with Lauren today, especially on a day such as this where we are offering gifts for those who need them. You have heard her desire to confront the things that are troubling her. I ask that you bless her with strength and peace and a clear conscience, that she may overcome these challenges. God, bless us with your spirit, that we may see your hand in our lives. Amen."
"Amen," I said.
As I was leaving, Father Martin called out to me and said, "Oh, just so you know, this Friday at 7 we are having a barbecue at the Parish Center. I would love to see you there, if you're able and wanting."
Turning back, I smiled and said, "Oh, ok, thanks Father. I'll think about it."
The priest nodded, and with a smile, he sent me off.
***
I walked into the Deli at 1:00 on the dot. The customers who had arrived for the lunch rush were already cleaning up their trash and heading out. I dodged past a few of them on my way down the long, narrow path leading to the front counter. While I waited behind a couple of elderly folk who were picking which soup they wanted to pair with their Ultimate Grilled Cheese, I looked around for Trent. He hadn't sent me a picture or any way of contacting him throughout the day, so I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I figured I'd see some man half-hidden behind a newspaper, scouting me out. Maybe I watch too many movies, I thought.
"Ahem, ma'am. You're up." croaked the teenager behind the register.
"Oh, right, sorry" I replied and stepped up to the counter. "Uhh," I muttered, scanning the menu for something that looked edible. "Could I just get…" I made sure to mouth every syllable as they were words of their own.
"We have a deal—the try two combo. Sandwich and a soup for $9.99." the cashier repeated for what was probably the fiftieth time that day.
"Yes, that sounds good. I'll do the Italian sandwich and potato soup. And a drink, please."
After I paid for the food, I wandered around the tables, hoping to find someone who looked like a Trent. I was picturing a short guy, runner's build, with long brown hair, tucked somewhere neatly away in the corner. So I was not prepared when the Hulk's stunt double growled my name from a table smack dab in the middle of the restaurant. He had a pale, square face that was spotted with freckles and a sinking property that comes with the lethal combination of stress and age. His hair was relatively short. Probably it was brown or auburn, but since it was slicked back, it looked almost black. And he wore what looked like janitor coveralls. There was even a cloth tag pinned to his chest which read, "Trent".
"Lauren?" He repeated.
"Yes, that's me." I said and took a seat across from him. I saw a brown tray on the table in front of him, and on the tray was a large, white soup bowl. It was empty and beginning to crust along the edges. He must have been here for some time already. "I didn't know where you'd be, so I was worried we might miss each other. I'm glad you found me though." I said while looking over Trent more thoroughly. His large hands were stretched out in front of him on the table. He wasn't wearing a ring, so he probably wasn't married. And his face, it was stern. He seemed like a no-bullshit kind of guy. Then I saw his eyes. They were sapphire blue—probably the most stunning I'd ever seen.
"We only spoke on the internet, so I hope you don't mind, but I usually run a preliminary test on anyone I meet who claims to have abilities such as yours." Trent said while reaching into his pocket and removing a device that had the size and shape of an electric razor. "All you have to do is look into it. It takes maybe five seconds. Ten at most."
"Oh, um, sure," I said reluctantly. "Do I just—" I asked while reaching for the device.
Trent clicked a button and released the cylindrical head which opened, revealing a glass circle about the size of an iris. "I'll hold it, just look into the center. A red cross should appear, then it'll take the picture."
"Okay…" I replied and did as he instructed, leaning my head forward to look into the device. Sure enough, a red cross appeared. "Is it…" was all I got out before the light turned blue and I saw a gray fog disperse and billow throughout the inside of the tube, extending for what I perceived to be miles. My jaw went slack and I couldn't breathe for maybe five seconds. Then Trent reshuttered the device and turned it over.
"Damn, 72." He said with a hint of shock. "That's the highest I've scanned to date." He looked back at me, more relaxed now, and muttered to himself. "How have you been able to function for this long? At this level, you should basically be half in, half out."
I rubbed my forehead, feeling a mixture of pain and frustration and fatigue and impatience which all poured out at once. "Listen, Trent," I said as sternly as I could, "I came here because you said you knew what was wrong with me and that you could help me. I get you have to make sure I am who I said I am, but now it's your turn to pay up. How do I know you know anything about my condition? You said my mom might still be alive. What does that even mean? I saw her die right in front of me. I want answers."
I waited for Trent to respond, but he only lifted his head. I turned around and saw a girl holding a tray of food.
"Um, hi, sorry to interrupt. I have an order 36 for Lauren."
"Oh, yes, thank you." I said. The worker placed the tray down on the table in front of me, and when I saw the food, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Trent must have also realized this, because he folded his arms and said, "go ahead and eat. I'll explain while you do."
I wanted to protest, but my salivating mouth made other plans. "Fine," I said. I grabbed the metal spoon off the tray and started on the soup, bracing against the steaming heat of the potato chunks.
As I ate, Trent moved all of the items on his tray off to the side, then he flipped the tray over so it was raised slightly off the table. He took his cup and placed it face down in the center, then he rolled up a few of his used, blue mayonnaise packets and charted a track across the tray.
"What are you doing?" I croaked out between bites.
Trent ignored me and continued by ripping up a napkin into strips and placing them alongside the mayonnaise packets. Finally, he snapped ten toothpicks in half and stuck them in the tomb of a dozen overlayed napkins. "It's your diorama," he said at last.
"It's my what?"
"From the story you sent me. Your diorama. When I read about it, it gave me a good idea of how to explain the 'blinking'."
I pointed at the cup in the center. "Is that supposed to be a pyramid? Because I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong geometric neighborhood with that one."
"It's an analogy," he said.
"Of an analogy," I quipped back.
"Look," he picked out one of the toothpicks and held it out in front of me. "This could be a person, an animal, a crowbar—whatever you want. The point is, this diorama is a stand in for our universe. This is everything that exists, that we can see. Okay?"
"Okay,"
"Now, me," Trent placed a hand over his heart. "I'm not in the diorama. I don't exist in the universe."
"In the universe where a cup is a pyramid, or the actual universe?" I said, unable to control myself.
Trent grimaced.
"Sorry, keep going. I get it."
"Things pop into," Trent threw the toothpick back onto the tray, "or out of," he picked the toothpick back up, "our universe at will, based on forces," he patted his chest again, "that exist in other realms" he gestured to the room, "that are connected to our universe," he tapped two fingers against the tray. "These things could be objects, like, say, a toothpick, or entities, like the one you encountered yesterday. The blinking experience that you described aligns with the typical experience of a moderate Antenna. That's what I call people like us—Antennas; because we can pick up on signals others can't."
"We—you mean you see the blinking, too?"
"Yes, but not to the same extent as you. If all the blinks are gathered in a giant picture that you can see, I'm traversing the image through binoculars, maybe even a microscope, depending on where we are."
I thought about this. I guess it was possible there were other people like me out there, but since I had never met anyone, I didn't really consider the idea until now. And then for him to say my ability was somehow much stronger than his… "But," I started, "I haven't even seen that many blinks since I was a child. It's just more focused and malicious now."
"Yeah," Trent scratched his head, "that's the thing that got me really interested in you. Somehow you seem to be able to control it without gear, just by praying. And, look, that's all well and good, but I don't want to give you the false impression that I'm some kind of religious leader. I like to look for logical, scientific explanations for things. So that's the frame I'm coming at this from."
I took a sip from my drink. "That's fine," I said, "the truth is that's why I reached out to you in the first place. I wanted an explanation I could understand. An explanation that was directly related to what I'm going through."
"Then we should get along just fine."
I was scooping out the last potato that was stubbornly gliding along the bottom of the bowl when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the old man from the line shooting up from his bench and standing in army-erect form. I felt a tingling sensation tickle the back of my neck. I didn't want to turn toward him. I knew what I'd see if I did. "Trent," I whispered, trying to tip him off.
"Huh?" he grunted. Then when he saw my expression, he snuck his right hand under the table and said, "Do you see it? Is it here?"
I cocked my head to the left, signaling toward the old man that was now facing us, but Trent didn't seem to notice him: his eyes just kept scanning the entire front of the restaurant. Then I saw the old man take a step in our direction.
"Lauuurennnn, oh Lauuuurennnn, I've been looking for you, Laurenn." The old man said in a low, gravelly voice that gave the impression he was gurgling liquid tar. I turned and saw his face. It was cold and expressionless, and a butter knife was poking out of his left fist. When I met his eyes, he smiled that horrible smile."You're a slippery bitch, you know that?" He spat. "Why can't you just stay put? Don't you get tired of running from your old friend? Or have you forgotten about me?"
"Trent," I mumbled out. "Right there."
"And this guy. You think he can help you? He's only here to help himself. If that's not clear, you really are a lost little lamb."
"Quick, give me your hand," Trent instructed.
I was silent, my eyes still pinned to the old man.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk," the demon possessed senior wagged his finger at me, taking a step, then another step, shortening the distance as much as he could while I was entranced. Then, suddenly, he sprinted forward at a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a man his age.
"Trent!" I screamed.
"Lauren, give me your hand!"
I spun around and grabbed Tren'ts outstretched arm just as the old man lifted the butter knife over his head like a pickaxe. Then I saw Trent pull out what looked like a toy gun from under the table and point it at the demon.
"Got you," Trent remarked. I braced for a gunshot, but there was no noise. After a couple seconds, I looked back and saw the old man sitting in the booth opposite his wife, his hand tremoring as he reached for his large drink.
"What did you?" I asked, but Trent was already pulling me out of my seat. "Come on, we have to go," he said, "the effect is temporary, he'll be—"
Before he could get out the last word, I saw the cup-pyramid on Trent's tray blink out of existence. The sound of a plate shattering rang out from a table up ahead. The lone woman standing there slowly turned around, smiling, with a fork in one hand and a piece of the broken plate in the other. Trent shot her with the toy gun as we ran past and then barreled through the front door.
"Where—are we going?" I asked between gasps.
"My van. It's loaded with kit."
"And then where?"
"Your house" replied Trent who stashed his gun back in his pocket and took out a key fob.
"My house? But that's where he—it appeared."
"Yeah, and that's where you banished it."
Trent waved me into the passenger seat of his RAM 3500 Promaster. I noticed right away the dash which looked more like it belonged in a new limited-edition EV than a cargo van. The ignition kicked on automatically, and I heard the beep of a sonar ping precede an English woman's voice calling out like some auxed-in GPS saying, "scanning for anomalies". Trent shifted the van into gear, and I heard the wheels sputter as we accelerated backward and whipped out of the small parking lot.
"What's your address?" Trent asked. I gave it to him, and then speaking to his dash, he said, "Car, take us to ****."
"Redirecting to ****," replied the British woman. "Currently detecting 31 novel emergences. Updating pings every 300 milliseconds. Chance of contact: 0.23%"
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"The van has sensor equipment which can detect blinks. It's much more accurate than either of us."
"And it sees 31?"
"Yes, that's not as many as it sounds." Trent said and tore past a car that blinked out of existence right as we turned onto the main street.
We drove on for another couple minutes, the Englishwoman updating the number of novel emergences every ten seconds or so. Her constant babbling eventually became a comforting background noise, and I was able to think again.
"In the message you sent me, you said my mom may still be alive." I looked at Trent to see if he would react to me bringing her up, but he remained stolid. "What did you mean by that?"
Trent thumbed his steering wheel. "I shouldn't have sent that." He said at last.
"Shouldn't have… What do you mean? You can't just say that now."
Trent took one hand off the wheel and turned toward me. "Look, we're going back to your house because we need to determine your origin point. All Antennas have them. It's a place of high energy where many realms intersect, kind of like a station, and it's the place where you first acquired your abilities. Based on everything you wrote, I'm guessing that place is where the forest where the accident happened when you were a young child. But I need to confirm it. Once I confirm that that's the place…" Trent hesitated.
"Then… what? You want us to go back there? To the place where my mom died, or at least where I think she died until you told me she might be alive but are now taking it back? That place?"
"It's the only way to—"
"Now detecting novel agent," the Englishwoman interrupted. We both perked up as she gave another update. "Net anomalies: 437. Novel Agents: 1. Chance of contact: 78%."
"Shit," Trent muttered. "Car, course correct."
"Attempting course correct to avoid collision. Attempts made: 10, 50, 75, 79… No alternate route detected. Chance of contact: 96%."
"Time until contact?"
"Time until contact: 13 seconds."
I shuddered. Looking out the front windshield, I saw cars pop out of existence left and right, opening up a clear path to the four way intersection ahead. In a blink, the streetlights all turned green, and then they vanished completely. It was as if the entire world was being stripped down bare, and all that remained was the road, boxed in by the rows of buildings along either side. In the distance I could see a large tanker barreling toward us.
"Trent,"
"I know," he replied and clicked a different button on the console which opened a new toggle for the shifter labeled "TD". He pushed the stick forward, engaging the new mode, then pressed the accelerator all the way to the ground. "You're going to want to hold on."
"What are you doing!?" I yelled, grabbing onto my seatbelt.
"No time to explain. Car, release phase lock."
"Phase lock released."
I watched in horror as the color drained from the road and buildings and sky, transforming it all into a dim tunnel, with only the headlights of the oncoming semi-truck visible up ahead. I had the sudden thought that this was all a dream, just like the ones from my childhood. I looked over and no longer saw Trent, but my mother. And then I realized this wasn't a dream. This was hell. I was being forced to relive the worst moment of my life, over and over again. Just when I thought I had escaped, I was pulled right back into that car, helpless as we approached but never arrived at our impending fate. I closed my eyes right as the lights engulfed the windshield and braced for the usual pain in my chest, for the feeling of breaking.
But it didn't come.
"Shift" was the last word out of Trent's mouth, and then I was infused with the sensation of being at the pinnacle of a roller coaster. I was suspended there for what felt like hours, but somehow I knew that not even a second had passed. Everything inside the van: the dashboard, windows, ceiling, doors, even Trent himself began to radiate enigmatic particles. They were a mass of constant motion, like raindrops falling through the air but never landing. I looked down at my hand, but it was gone. Diffused into an unknowable number of untraceable particles. The world outside, once devoid of color, was now nothing but color. When I tried to focus on a particular spot in the infinite geometric folds of whatever realm we were traversing through, I could sometimes detect a trace of our world.
The old lady from the church. She appeared as if through a window, standing behind a table, holding out a plant. Only this image was so much brighter. And the plant she was holding was pure gold. Then I'd catch a glimpse of the razor blade. It was large, many hundreds of times larger than the van, and surrounded by darkness. These ghostly images appeared like holograms or reflections that caught the light at just the right angle, then dissipated.
I stayed there, looping between the archetypes of my life for a long, long time.
***
I knew we were returning when I felt the first sense of motion. Breath filled my lungs for the first time in what felt like a day. I blinked. And then we were back in town, driving down the same road with the blue sky above. People were jogging on the sidewalk past the little street shops. The streetlights were active. I checked the side mirror and saw the tanker had just passed by.
I looked over at Trent, who met my eyes. We shared a look of knowing, and unknowing. For some reason, that was enough, and we continued on in silence.
***
We agreed to stay the night at my house.
Trent had parked a couple blocks away in front of a couple vacant houses so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. Then he lugged a large duffel bag with his equipment in and set it up in the living room. He scanned the scrapbook which contained the newspaper clippings from the accident several times and confirmed that was likely my 'origin point'. I simply nodded and then went back out onto the back porch. I sat there for hours, basking in the sun. Something had changed in the past day, but I couldn't pick out what it was. Too much had happened. I had too little time to process any of it.
When the sun set, I went inside and Trent told me about his plans for the next couple days. He said he needed to run a few errands in the morning, then meet up with a couple of his associates. After that, we could begin our drive to Southern Illinois. He said it was likely that the entity that was chasing me had first tied itself to me during my childhood accident. For whatever reason, we came into contact, and now it didn't want to leave. Trent would help me get rid of it. He didn't go into many details regarding how that was to happen, but I don't think in my tired state I would have been able to understand much anyway. He had a plan, and that was enough for me. At least for a while.
After our meeting, I made sure Trent had enough pillows and blankets like a proper host, then I retired to my room. I laid down on my twin bed and stared up at the cream-colored ceiling. Then I turned and saw the participation awards for my junior soccer league stashed on my dresser. I pictured myself on the field, running with the ball, out ahead of everyone except the goalie. I took a shot, but it was blocked. Then I ran back to defend. How can such a simple game be so much fun? Was the last thought I had before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up only once during the night. It was still dark out. The room was warm despite the small, flower petal fan churning away, shifting the hot, humid air from one pocket of the room to the next. I waited in apprehension, sensing that something had disturbed me. I saw the tomato plushie peeking out at me from the slightly ajar closet door where I had stashed it so many years ago. I felt like I was missing something. Something important.
And then I heard it.
There was a tapping at my window.
submitted by Weathers_Writing to nosleep [link] [comments]
First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for their kind words and support from the last post. A lot has happened since then, and a bunch of context is needed, so I hope you'll bear with me as I explain the details.
***
Back during the peak of the blinking crisis, I remember having a lot of difficulty sleeping. It was common for me to average only four or five hours a night, and the little sleep I did get was marred by terrible nightmares. One in particular recurred many times.
I was only eight, but somehow I was in the driver's seat of our family's old SUV. My arms were long enough to steady the wheel, but my legs didn't quite meet the pedals. It didn't matter though, since the car seemed content to continue on at a constant pace. I looked over and saw my mom in the passenger seat. Her face was a blurry likeness pieced together from the dozen or so picture's I'd seen of her over the years. I tried to bring her into focus, not only because I missed her dearly, but because she was speaking—pleading, even. She waved frantically at me, then brought her leg up and slammed it down on the floor mat several times. I didn't understand what had her so upset until she pointed out the front windshield, and I saw we were hurdling directly toward a giant tree that had fallen in the middle of the road.
Panicking, I stomped for the brake, but my seatbelt protested and pulled me back like an invigorated dog on a short leash. I sat up and tried clicking it off, but it wouldn't budge. My breaths became hollow cries, and I felt my heart beat against the bars of its bony prison. I grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it to the left, then right, attempting to swerve off the road, but it was as if whatever kind of glue was locking up the seatbelt was also fixing the steering wheel in place.
"Mom! what do I do!?" I yelled, tears streaming from my eyes. She was yelling back at me, but it was as if there was a divider between us, and neither of us could hear each other. I turned back just in time to see the giant Oak tree meet the front bumper, and then I jolted awake with a piercing pain in my chest that radiated up through my throat in the form of a giant scream. My little legs kicked under the covers and tears rained down on my pillow until my dad ran in and knelt at my bed.
"Lauren, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"
I grabbed my pillow and hugged it so my face was covered, then effused a "Mmm-hmm" in a long wheeze while rocking to either side.
"Oh, honey," he soothed and brushed my hair, then the tears from my face when I would allow it.
Time would pass in silence, and when I began to get the sense that my dad was ready to leave, I'd chirp out, "stay" in that way children do when they're embarrassed about wanting something.
"Always," my dad would reply; then he'd post up on the floor with my large tomato plushie as a pillow.
One night in particular, it was deep in the night, and I had woken to a tapping sound outside my window. I was so afraid that a monster had snuck into my room while I wasn't looking that I made him lay next to me and face outward. I'd peek my eyes open every minute or so to check and make sure my dad was there, staking out the room. Eventually, he rolled in close and said something that I still remember to this day.
"Hey, baby, guess what." he whispered.
"Mmm" I mumbled.
"I think you scared the monster away."
I tried to picture this through the fog of my fatigue. Something seemed off about the statement, like it wasn't logically possible, but before I could piece together the words to express that, my dad cut back in.
"It was scared because it realized you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is?"
I shook my head, making sure to rub my forehead against his shoulder so he could sense it in the dark room.
"You're greatest power is that you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them. And there's all kinds of stories. Happy ones. Sad ones. Scary ones. Tell me, this monster you think snuck in, would you say he's part of a scary story?"
"I don't know," I said, confused. "Maybe"
"Hmm," he hummed, contemplating. "Well, I want you to remember this. You have the ability to tell any kind of story you want. Maybe there are monsters, but that means there's heroes and angels, too, right?"
I was beginning to doze off to the comforting sound of my dad's deep voice, but I gave another affirmative "Mm-hmm".
"So, if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story. A story that will bring you peace. Do you understand?"
But I was already out.
***
I woke up the next morning to the feeling that someone was in the hotel room with me. The drapes were drawn and the only sound was the AC unit blowing cold air, but when I looked toward the dark corner of the empty coat rack, my mind conjured the face of my dad, smiling at me, chanting that same, awful line—Oh, Lauren… you know who we are.
I was no longer a child, but it took a couple minutes of cold focus before I muscled the courage to ascend from the safety of my covers and flick on the lamp light. The small amber radius extended to where my dad's feet would have been if he was standing there. But there was no one. I let out a sigh and collapsed back onto the mattress, thinking back on all those years growing up. The same man who had helped me conquer my fear of the dark was now the monster hiding in its shadow.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the clock read 10:15. My meeting with Trent was in three hours. I moaned and stretched my arms back until they knocked against the headboard, then I collapsed back onto the mattress, meditating, gathering energy like a compressed spring. All at once, I jumped up and glided over to the drapes, opening them in a single, fluid motion. I grimaced at the sunlight, but the warmth felt good against my face. I stopped by the nightstand and gulped down the final few swigs of a bottle of Mello Yello that I had purchased from a vending machine the previous night, then undressed and hopped in the shower.
The warm water wasn't enough to wash away the previous night's memories. When I closed my eyes to lather my hair, I was back in my living room, standing opposite the demon that had taken on my dad's form. His smile. His laugh. It was like someone in my head was flipping a switch between the man I loved growing up and a terrible monster. But the fear was more powerful. I heard something drop onto the tile floor on the other side of the curtain. The noise made me gasp, and I opened my eyes while shampoo was still streaming down my face. I swiped the shampoo out of my now burning eyes and squinted at the curtain, trying to see through it, but I couldn't make anything out. "I-is anyone," I started, trembling, afraid to finish the sentence. I reached out and pinched the end of the curtain. My heart was in overdrive. I swallowed, then pulled it toward me and peeked out. I scanned the room, but I couldn't see anything out of place.
It wasn't until after I finished showering and wound myself up in one of the hotel's too-small towels that I saw what had made the noise. I bent down and picked up the stub of a razor blade that had fallen onto the tile right next to the puffy, gray shower rug. It wasn't mine, and I was pretty sure hotels didn't keep unguarded razor blades just laying around. When I held it up, it occurred to me that if it had simply fallen a few inches to the left, it would have been buried in the rug, and perhaps I would have stepped on it. I stared at myself in its steely reflection. Cold. Lonely. Small. What if I—was all I was able to think before the blade blinked out of my hand.
I threw on some clothes, packed up the few belongings I had into my purse, then checked out of my room. I didn't feel safe going back home after what happened, but I also didn't want to go anywhere else. I got in my car and drove aimlessly up and down the town's streets, focusing only on the car ahead of me. Anytime I started to travel down an avenue of thought, I'd make a turn, or speed up, or hit the brakes: anything to keep my mind distracted. It was sweltering outside, but I'd turn the heat on for minutes at a time until I felt drenched, then toggle max AC until I was cool, then back to heat. I repeated the basic driving tenet "10 and 2", "10 and 2", "10 and 2" like a mantra—a chant to focus my attention on a single point, and then I pictured that point disappearing. I began to think that maybe I wanted to disappear.
I fully intended to keep going that way until 1:00, but after about thirty minutes, my meandering route had led me to St. Mark's Catholic Church, where a large group of people were gathered around a long line of tables in front of the building. I slowed down. At the front of the venue was a large, white cardboard sign which read, "Plant a Seed, Share the Joy". I wasn't sure what that meant, but my boredom had come to a head, and I rationalized that if there's any place on God's green earth that would be safe, it was this one. I parked along the closest side-street, then walked over to the church.
Rows of white tables were covered with cardboard boxes filled with small plants that were wrapped up in individual paper pots. I watched from a distance as people behind the tables carefully removed the plants, one by one, and offered them to passersby. I continued down the line, a sheep in the herd, and allowed myself to sink into childhood memories. I had somehow made it out the other end near the Narthex when I heard a woman's voice call to me.
"Hey, deary, have you gotten one yet?"
I turned and saw a small, gray-haired lady with rose-colored glasses. "Oh, no," I started, attempting to decline, then paused. The old lady grabbed one of the plants and held it out for me.
"Here," she said. "Come on, I won't bite."
As far as you know, I thought, and stumbled forward with a sigh. "Thanks," I said and took the plant. "What is this all for, anyway?"
"It's a giveaway," the old woman responded. "Staff have been growing these plants—tomatoes and garlic, mainly—so they could offer them to members of the Parish. The idea is to have the members grow the produce, then donate it to St. Mark's Food Pantry to give to those in need."
"Oh, that's actually pretty cool." I replied and inspected my plant which was at present nothing more than a small green stem. "So which kind is this one?"
"That one is—" the old lady stopped and inspected the other plants near where she had grabbed mine—"tomato."
"Tomato," I repeated. "Well, thanks again."
"Of course, dear." the old lady beamed. "We're all responsible for each other."
I nodded, then continued back through the crowd toward my car when, through the large vestibule windows, I saw a Priest speaking to a young couple. It had been a little over a decade since I had attended a service (I stopped going during High School when I started studying other religions), and I didn't recognize this Priest. He was short (just over five feet tall), bald, and African American. He wore the customary black robe and white collar, and there was something in his smile and the way seemed to be affirming the couple that made me yearn to speak with him. I considered for a moment, a bit embarrassed to be stepping back into church after all this time, but the thought of being able to burn ten minutes talking with someone who might have some insight into my situation was too tempting to pass up.
I waited near a portrait of Mary Magdalene, my tomato plant in hand, staring off at the pristine series of stained glass images portraying the death and resurrection of Jesus. About a minute in, the Priest met my eyes; he smiled, his way of telling me he knew I was waiting, then finished up with the couple and made his way over. He had a bit of an accent when he spoke—it was Ugandan, from best I could tell—and a proclivity for laughing at the end of his sentences.
"Hello, Miss, I don't believe I've had the privilege," he said and held out his hand. He leaned in as he spoke, and his smile tugged on the corners of his eyes which were already marked with use.
I shook his hand and returned what I'm sure was a weak smile. "No, I don't think so. My name's Lauren. I used to come here when I was little. It's—been a while."
"Well, I see you picked a good day to visit. If you're into gardening, that is." He remarked with a laugh and gestured toward the plant. "It's nice to meet you, Lauren. My name's Martin—Father Martin, if you prefer."
"Father Martin," I repeated, "I have a friend named Martin. It's a good name."
He laughed and said, "Thank you, I'll pass that one along to my mother. She loves the praise."
I laughed back. He carried himself in such a carefree way that I was put immediately at ease. Almost to the point where I forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. "Um," I started, attempting to word my question in a way that didn't sound like I needed psychiatric help. "I have a couple of religious questions for you, if you have time."
"That's what I'm for. Ask away."
"They're about… miracles. Like the ones in the Bible. I was wondering, do you think that miracles still happen today?"
"Miracles, huh," he started. "You mean like water into wine?"
"Kind of, yeah,"
"Hmm…" he contemplated. "Well, I haven't seen them, myself. You know, I may be a Priest, but I also have a degree in Physics. I think God made the world according to laws, right? But I do think God has the power to intervene. Yes. I just have never seen it… like … you know, the biblical type of miracles. To me, there are miracles happening all around us—miracles we can't see."
"Exactly," I responded, thinking about how no one else could see the blinks, "those kinds of miracles. What are those miracles we can't see?"
One of Father Martin's eyebrows raised and he rubbed his chin. "Well, I think the greatest miracle is the miracle of God's love which was perfected in Christ and offered to each of us. It's his power to heal even the most troubled mind. By coming into alignment with God's will for us, we can see the true purpose of this existence."
No, he's not getting it, I thought. I scrambled to my other entry-point. "What about the story of Job? God made a bet with the Devil that Job would stay faithful to him no matter what the Devil did to him. Do you think that kind of situation is possible?"
Father Martin's expression drooped into a concerned frown. "There's quite the difference between miracles and the story of Job. I suppose I see what you're getting at, though. Job's suffering is in some ways the antithesis to positive miracles. In this life, we are tested, sometimes to the point of losing everything, but even that person who has more reason to hate God than anyone else can once again find peace and eternal happiness through faith. In fact, it's often the person who is lowest in the pit of suffering that needs the Light of Christ more than anyone else."
I thought back on the first night that I prayed. It was in my moment of greatest helplessness that I reached out to God, and I thought I had found my answer in Him. But now, after what happened last night, after all these years of chaos—not merely losing things that were important to me, but my very sanity—I needed more than just blind faith. I couldn't just sit idly by and hope things would get better. I smiled at the Priest and said, "Thank you, Father, this has been very insightful."
"Of course, sister. I'm sorry if I couldn't have been of more help."
"No, I think I understand now. I've been… wrestling with something, and I think God wants me to confront it. I think I've been running away and hiding from it for so long that I'd convinced myself it disappeared."
Father Martin nodded in understanding. "Well, in that case, will you let me leave you with a prayer?"
I was a bit taken off guard by the request, but I accepted. "Sure, Father."
I watched as he made the sign of the cross, then he lifted his hands and closed his eyes. "Dear God, I am so happy to have had the privilege of meeting with Lauren today, especially on a day such as this where we are offering gifts for those who need them. You have heard her desire to confront the things that are troubling her. I ask that you bless her with strength and peace and a clear conscience, that she may overcome these challenges. God, bless us with your spirit, that we may see your hand in our lives. Amen."
"Amen," I said.
As I was leaving, Father Martin called out to me and said, "Oh, just so you know, this Friday at 7 we are having a barbecue at the Parish Center. I would love to see you there, if you're able and wanting."
Turning back, I smiled and said, "Oh, ok, thanks Father. I'll think about it."
The priest nodded, and with a smile, he sent me off.
***
I walked into the Deli at 1:00 on the dot. The customers who had arrived for the lunch rush were already cleaning up their trash and heading out. I dodged past a few of them on my way down the long, narrow path leading to the front counter. While I waited behind a couple of elderly folk who were picking which soup they wanted to pair with their Ultimate Grilled Cheese, I looked around for Trent. He hadn't sent me a picture or any way of contacting him throughout the day, so I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I figured I'd see some man half-hidden behind a newspaper, scouting me out. Maybe I watch too many movies, I thought.
"Ahem, ma'am. You're up." croaked the teenager behind the register.
"Oh, right, sorry" I replied and stepped up to the counter. "Uhh," I muttered, scanning the menu for something that looked edible. "Could I just get…" I made sure to mouth every syllable as they were words of their own.
"We have a deal—the try two combo. Sandwich and a soup for $9.99." the cashier repeated for what was probably the fiftieth time that day.
"Yes, that sounds good. I'll do the Italian sandwich and potato soup. And a drink, please."
After I paid for the food, I wandered around the tables, hoping to find someone who looked like a Trent. I was picturing a short guy, runner's build, with long brown hair, tucked somewhere neatly away in the corner. So I was not prepared when the Hulk's stunt double growled my name from a table smack dab in the middle of the restaurant. He had a pale, square face that was spotted with freckles and a sinking property that comes with the lethal combination of stress and age. His hair was relatively short. Probably it was brown or auburn, but since it was slicked back, it looked almost black. And he wore what looked like janitor coveralls. There was even a cloth tag pinned to his chest which read, "Trent".
"Lauren?" He repeated.
"Yes, that's me." I said and took a seat across from him. I saw a brown tray on the table in front of him, and on the tray was a large, white soup bowl. It was empty and beginning to crust along the edges. He must have been here for some time already. "I didn't know where you'd be, so I was worried we might miss each other. I'm glad you found me though." I said while looking over Trent more thoroughly. His large hands were stretched out in front of him on the table. He wasn't wearing a ring, so he probably wasn't married. And his face, it was stern. He seemed like a no-bullshit kind of guy. Then I saw his eyes. They were sapphire blue—probably the most stunning I'd ever seen.
"We only spoke on the internet, so I hope you don't mind, but I usually run a preliminary test on anyone I meet who claims to have abilities such as yours." Trent said while reaching into his pocket and removing a device that had the size and shape of an electric razor. "All you have to do is look into it. It takes maybe five seconds. Ten at most."
"Oh, um, sure," I said reluctantly. "Do I just—" I asked while reaching for the device.
Trent clicked a button and released the cylindrical head which opened, revealing a glass circle about the size of an iris. "I'll hold it, just look into the center. A red cross should appear, then it'll take the picture."
"Okay…" I replied and did as he instructed, leaning my head forward to look into the device. Sure enough, a red cross appeared. "Is it…" was all I got out before the light turned blue and I saw a gray fog disperse and billow throughout the inside of the tube, extending for what I perceived to be miles. My jaw went slack and I couldn't breathe for maybe five seconds. Then Trent reshuttered the device and turned it over.
"Damn, 72." He said with a hint of shock. "That's the highest I've scanned to date." He looked back at me, more relaxed now, and muttered to himself. "How have you been able to function for this long? At this level, you should basically be half in, half out."
I rubbed my forehead, feeling a mixture of pain and frustration and fatigue and impatience which all poured out at once. "Listen, Trent," I said as sternly as I could, "I came here because you said you knew what was wrong with me and that you could help me. I get you have to make sure I am who I said I am, but now it's your turn to pay up. How do I know you know anything about my condition? You said my mom might still be alive. What does that even mean? I saw her die right in front of me. I want answers."
I waited for Trent to respond, but he only lifted his head. I turned around and saw a girl holding a tray of food.
"Um, hi, sorry to interrupt. I have an order 36 for Lauren."
"Oh, yes, thank you." I said. The worker placed the tray down on the table in front of me, and when I saw the food, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Trent must have also realized this, because he folded his arms and said, "go ahead and eat. I'll explain while you do."
I wanted to protest, but my salivating mouth made other plans. "Fine," I said. I grabbed the metal spoon off the tray and started on the soup, bracing against the steaming heat of the potato chunks.
As I ate, Trent moved all of the items on his tray off to the side, then he flipped the tray over so it was raised slightly off the table. He took his cup and placed it face down in the center, then he rolled up a few of his used, blue mayonnaise packets and charted a track across the tray.
"What are you doing?" I croaked out between bites.
Trent ignored me and continued by ripping up a napkin into strips and placing them alongside the mayonnaise packets. Finally, he snapped ten toothpicks in half and stuck them in the tomb of a dozen overlayed napkins. "It's your diorama," he said at last.
"It's my what?"
"From the story you sent me. Your diorama. When I read about it, it gave me a good idea of how to explain the 'blinking'."
I pointed at the cup in the center. "Is that supposed to be a pyramid? Because I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong geometric neighborhood with that one."
"It's an analogy," he said.
"Of an analogy," I quipped back.
"Look," he picked out one of the toothpicks and held it out in front of me. "This could be a person, an animal, a crowbar—whatever you want. The point is, this diorama is a stand in for our universe. This is everything that exists, that we can see. Okay?"
"Okay,"
"Now, me," Trent placed a hand over his heart. "I'm not in the diorama. I don't exist in the universe."
"In the universe where a cup is a pyramid, or the actual universe?" I said, unable to control myself.
Trent grimaced.
"Sorry, keep going. I get it."
"Things pop into," Trent threw the toothpick back onto the tray, "or out of," he picked the toothpick back up, "our universe at will, based on forces," he patted his chest again, "that exist in other realms" he gestured to the room, "that are connected to our universe," he tapped two fingers against the tray. "These things could be objects, like, say, a toothpick, or entities, like the one you encountered yesterday. The blinking experience that you described aligns with the typical experience of a moderate Antenna. That's what I call people like us—Antennas; because we can pick up on signals others can't."
"We—you mean you see the blinking, too?"
"Yes, but not to the same extent as you. If all the blinks are gathered in a giant picture that you can see, I'm traversing the image through binoculars, maybe even a microscope, depending on where we are."
I thought about this. I guess it was possible there were other people like me out there, but since I had never met anyone, I didn't really consider the idea until now. And then for him to say my ability was somehow much stronger than his… "But," I started, "I haven't even seen that many blinks since I was a child. It's just more focused and malicious now."
"Yeah," Trent scratched his head, "that's the thing that got me really interested in you. Somehow you seem to be able to control it without gear, just by praying. And, look, that's all well and good, but I don't want to give you the false impression that I'm some kind of religious leader. I like to look for logical, scientific explanations for things. So that's the frame I'm coming at this from."
I took a sip from my drink. "That's fine," I said, "the truth is that's why I reached out to you in the first place. I wanted an explanation I could understand. An explanation that was directly related to what I'm going through."
"Then we should get along just fine."
I was scooping out the last potato that was stubbornly gliding along the bottom of the bowl when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the old man from the line shooting up from his bench and standing in army-erect form. I felt a tingling sensation tickle the back of my neck. I didn't want to turn toward him. I knew what I'd see if I did. "Trent," I whispered, trying to tip him off.
"Huh?" he grunted. Then when he saw my expression, he snuck his right hand under the table and said, "Do you see it? Is it here?"
I cocked my head to the left, signaling toward the old man that was now facing us, but Trent didn't seem to notice him: his eyes just kept scanning the entire front of the restaurant. Then I saw the old man take a step in our direction.
"Lauuurennnn, oh Lauuuurennnn, I've been looking for you, Laurenn." The old man said in a low, gravelly voice that gave the impression he was gurgling liquid tar. I turned and saw his face. It was cold and expressionless, and a butter knife was poking out of his left fist. When I met his eyes, he smiled that horrible smile."You're a slippery bitch, you know that?" He spat. "Why can't you just stay put? Don't you get tired of running from your old friend? Or have you forgotten about me?"
"Trent," I mumbled out. "Right there."
"And this guy. You think he can help you? He's only here to help himself. If that's not clear, you really are a lost little lamb."
"Quick, give me your hand," Trent instructed.
I was silent, my eyes still pinned to the old man.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk," the demon possessed senior wagged his finger at me, taking a step, then another step, shortening the distance as much as he could while I was entranced. Then, suddenly, he sprinted forward at a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a man his age.
"Trent!" I screamed.
"Lauren, give me your hand!"
I spun around and grabbed Tren'ts outstretched arm just as the old man lifted the butter knife over his head like a pickaxe. Then I saw Trent pull out what looked like a toy gun from under the table and point it at the demon.
"Got you," Trent remarked. I braced for a gunshot, but there was no noise. After a couple seconds, I looked back and saw the old man sitting in the booth opposite his wife, his hand tremoring as he reached for his large drink.
"What did you?" I asked, but Trent was already pulling me out of my seat. "Come on, we have to go," he said, "the effect is temporary, he'll be—"
Before he could get out the last word, I saw the cup-pyramid on Trent's tray blink out of existence. The sound of a plate shattering rang out from a table up ahead. The lone woman standing there slowly turned around, smiling, with a fork in one hand and a piece of the broken plate in the other. Trent shot her with the toy gun as we ran past and then barreled through the front door.
"Where—are we going?" I asked between gasps.
"My van. It's loaded with kit."
"And then where?"
"Your house" replied Trent who stashed his gun back in his pocket and took out a key fob.
"My house? But that's where he—it appeared."
"Yeah, and that's where you banished it."
Trent waved me into the passenger seat of his RAM 3500 Promaster. I noticed right away the dash which looked more like it belonged in a new limited-edition EV than a cargo van. The ignition kicked on automatically, and I heard the beep of a sonar ping precede an English woman's voice calling out like some auxed-in GPS saying, "scanning for anomalies". Trent shifted the van into gear, and I heard the wheels sputter as we accelerated backward and whipped out of the small parking lot.
"What's your address?" Trent asked. I gave it to him, and then speaking to his dash, he said, "Car, take us to ****."
"Redirecting to ****," replied the British woman. "Currently detecting 31 novel emergences. Updating pings every 300 milliseconds. Chance of contact: 0.23%"
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"The van has sensor equipment which can detect blinks. It's much more accurate than either of us."
"And it sees 31?"
"Yes, that's not as many as it sounds." Trent said and tore past a car that blinked out of existence right as we turned onto the main street.
We drove on for another couple minutes, the Englishwoman updating the number of novel emergences every ten seconds or so. Her constant babbling eventually became a comforting background noise, and I was able to think again.
"In the message you sent me, you said my mom may still be alive." I looked at Trent to see if he would react to me bringing her up, but he remained stolid. "What did you mean by that?"
Trent thumbed his steering wheel. "I shouldn't have sent that." He said at last.
"Shouldn't have… What do you mean? You can't just say that now."
Trent took one hand off the wheel and turned toward me. "Look, we're going back to your house because we need to determine your origin point. All Antennas have them. It's a place of high energy where many realms intersect, kind of like a station, and it's the place where you first acquired your abilities. Based on everything you wrote, I'm guessing that place is where the forest where the accident happened when you were a young child. But I need to confirm it. Once I confirm that that's the place…" Trent hesitated.
"Then… what? You want us to go back there? To the place where my mom died, or at least where I think she died until you told me she might be alive but are now taking it back? That place?"
"It's the only way to—"
"Now detecting novel agent," the Englishwoman interrupted. We both perked up as she gave another update. "Net anomalies: 437. Novel Agents: 1. Chance of contact: 78%."
"Shit," Trent muttered. "Car, course correct."
"Attempting course correct to avoid collision. Attempts made: 10, 50, 75, 79… No alternate route detected. Chance of contact: 96%."
"Time until contact?"
"Time until contact: 13 seconds."
I shuddered. Looking out the front windshield, I saw cars pop out of existence left and right, opening up a clear path to the four way intersection ahead. In a blink, the streetlights all turned green, and then they vanished completely. It was as if the entire world was being stripped down bare, and all that remained was the road, boxed in by the rows of buildings along either side. In the distance I could see a large tanker barreling toward us.
"Trent,"
"I know," he replied and clicked a different button on the console which opened a new toggle for the shifter labeled "TD". He pushed the stick forward, engaging the new mode, then pressed the accelerator all the way to the ground. "You're going to want to hold on."
"What are you doing!?" I yelled, grabbing onto my seatbelt.
"No time to explain. Car, release phase lock."
"Phase lock released."
I watched in horror as the color drained from the road and buildings and sky, transforming it all into a dim tunnel, with only the headlights of the oncoming semi-truck visible up ahead. I had the sudden thought that this was all a dream, just like the ones from my childhood. I looked over and no longer saw Trent, but my mother. And then I realized this wasn't a dream. This was hell. I was being forced to relive the worst moment of my life, over and over again. Just when I thought I had escaped, I was pulled right back into that car, helpless as we approached but never arrived at our impending fate. I closed my eyes right as the lights engulfed the windshield and braced for the usual pain in my chest, for the feeling of breaking.
But it didn't come.
"Shift" was the last word out of Trent's mouth, and then I was infused with the sensation of being at the pinnacle of a roller coaster. I was suspended there for what felt like hours, but somehow I knew that not even a second had passed. Everything inside the van: the dashboard, windows, ceiling, doors, even Trent himself began to radiate enigmatic particles. They were a mass of constant motion, like raindrops falling through the air but never landing. I looked down at my hand, but it was gone. Diffused into an unknowable number of untraceable particles. The world outside, once devoid of color, was now nothing but color. When I tried to focus on a particular spot in the infinite geometric folds of whatever realm we were traversing through, I could sometimes detect a trace of our world.
The old lady from the church. She appeared as if through a window, standing behind a table, holding out a plant. Only this image was so much brighter. And the plant she was holding was pure gold. Then I'd catch a glimpse of the razor blade. It was large, many hundreds of times larger than the van, and surrounded by darkness. These ghostly images appeared like holograms or reflections that caught the light at just the right angle, then dissipated.
I stayed there, looping between the archetypes of my life for a long, long time.
***
I knew we were returning when I felt the first sense of motion. Breath filled my lungs for the first time in what felt like a day. I blinked. And then we were back in town, driving down the same road with the blue sky above. People were jogging on the sidewalk past the little street shops. The streetlights were active. I checked the side mirror and saw the tanker had just passed by.
I looked over at Trent, who met my eyes. We shared a look of knowing, and unknowing. For some reason, that was enough, and we continued on in silence.
***
We agreed to stay the night at my house.
Trent had parked a couple blocks away in front of a couple vacant houses so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. Then he lugged a large duffel bag with his equipment in and set it up in the living room. He scanned the scrapbook which contained the newspaper clippings from the accident several times and confirmed that was likely my 'origin point'. I simply nodded and then went back out onto the back porch. I sat there for hours, basking in the sun. Something had changed in the past day, but I couldn't pick out what it was. Too much had happened. I had too little time to process any of it.
When the sun set, I went inside and Trent told me about his plans for the next couple days. He said he needed to run a few errands in the morning, then meet up with a couple of his associates. After that, we could begin our drive to Southern Illinois. He said it was likely that the entity that was chasing me had first tied itself to me during my childhood accident. For whatever reason, we came into contact, and now it didn't want to leave. Trent would help me get rid of it. He didn't go into many details regarding how that was to happen, but I don't think in my tired state I would have been able to understand much anyway. He had a plan, and that was enough for me. At least for a while.
After our meeting, I made sure Trent had enough pillows and blankets like a proper host, then I retired to my room. I laid down on my twin bed and stared up at the cream-colored ceiling. Then I turned and saw the participation awards for my junior soccer league stashed on my dresser. I pictured myself on the field, running with the ball, out ahead of everyone except the goalie. I took a shot, but it was blocked. Then I ran back to defend. How can such a simple game be so much fun? Was the last thought I had before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up only once during the night. It was still dark out. The room was warm despite the small, flower petal fan churning away, shifting the hot, humid air from one pocket of the room to the next. I waited in apprehension, sensing that something had disturbed me. I saw the tomato plushie peeking out at me from the slightly ajar closet door where I had stashed it so many years ago. I felt like I was missing something. Something important.
And then I heard it.
There was a tapping at my window.
2024.05.21 16:47 fifi_edits Is Pesto Keto-Friendly?
Pesto is a nutritious sauce and condiment available in many tasty variations, but is pesto keto-friendly?
Yes, traditionally prepared pesto is low in carbs and can be a great way to add depth of flavor to various keto recipes.
Discover the benefits of regularly incorporating pesto into a ketogenic diet and learn how to make the best Healthy Keto® pesto recipe.
The name pesto comes from the Genovese word pestare, which means to pound or crush. It depicts the traditional method of preparing pesto using a mortar and pestle to combine ingredients.
Here are common ingredients used in different pesto varieties.
Basil is a delicate herb, and using the mortar and pestle instead of harshly chopping or blending with a food processor slows down the oxidation of the leaves. This not only helps preserve the sauce's vivid green hue but also enhances its flavor and aroma.
However, pesto has evolved to encompass a broader range of ingredients.
Here are some other common herbs used in many pesto recipes:
Here are some commonly used nuts used to prepare pesto:
However, since there are many different pesto variations, it’s crucial to read labels to check that there are no added sugars or hidden carbs that could interfere with ketosis.
For those following Healthy Keto, a low-carb diet that focuses on nutrient-dense whole foods, checking the ingredients list is essential, as many pre-made pestos can include potentially harmful additives and preservatives.
Watch this video to discover the health and nutritional benefits of basil.
Amazing Health & Nutritional Benefits Of Basil
Here are four reasons why you should incorporate more pesto into your meals.
These fatty acids are also vital for supporting eye health and contribute to healthier skin by improving skin barrier function and hydration.
These health-promoting compounds have been linked to potent anti-inflammatory effects that support immune system function and may lower the risk of chronic diseases.
3. Potential anti-cancer effects
Key ingredients in pesto, including basil, garlic, and olive oil, are exceptional sources of antioxidants that may help lower cancer risk.
Antioxidants can counteract the effects of free radicals, thereby preventing oxidative stress, which is linked to cellular and DNA damage, a leading cause of cancer.
Probiotics help maintain a healthy gut microbiome essential for nutrient absorption, digestive health, and overall well-being.
Research published in Food Technology and Biotechnology found that Parmigiano Reggiano also contains oligosaccharides, which act as a prebiotic food source for beneficial gut bacteria.
Pesto is a delicate sauce that’s best consumed fresh, as its flavor and quality can deteriorate quickly, becoming bitter and dull as the enzymes released from basil oxidize.
To help extend pesto’s shelf life, store-bought versions often contain preservatives and additives that can negatively impact the flavor and quality of the sauce and may harm your health.
Additionally, many store-bought pestos will substitute critical ingredients, such as extra virgin olive oil (EVOO), cheese, or fresh garlic, with cheaper alternatives or omit them entirely, leading to a bland or unpalatable flavor and a significantly lower nutritional value.
Look for pestos that don't contain artificial preservatives or low-quality ingredients, such as sunflower oil or potato flakes. Instead, opt for certified organic and non-GMO products that use high-quality oil and real cheese sourced from grass-fed and pasture cows.
Here are some delicious keto-friendly pesto recipes:
Zucchini noodles, keto gnocchi, and keto egg noodles are excellent low-carb pasta alternatives that work well with keto pesto sauce.
Known for its rich, nutty flavor and granular texture, Parmigiano Reggiano undergoes a meticulous aging process and adheres to stringent production standards, ensuring its authenticity and superior quality.
The Parmigiano Reggiano standard guidelines underscore a commitment to natural production, prohibiting additives and ensuring cows are fed local forage.
This approach not only guarantees the cheese's premium taste but also preserves essential nutrients and probiotics.
In addition, evidence published in the Asia Pacific Journal of Clinical Nutrition summarizes, "phenolic content of olive oil is reduced by chemical extraction and refining."
By prioritizing cold-pressed EVOO, you ensure your olive oil is rich in flavor and health-promoting properties.
As Dr. Berg explains, "Basil has some amazing health benefits. It’s loaded with vitamin K, manganese, and flavonoids, which can help support healthy bones, blood clotting, and skeletal health while offering potent anti-inflammatory properties.”
submitted by fifi_edits to DrEricBergDC [link] [comments]
Yes, traditionally prepared pesto is low in carbs and can be a great way to add depth of flavor to various keto recipes.
Discover the benefits of regularly incorporating pesto into a ketogenic diet and learn how to make the best Healthy Keto® pesto recipe.
What is pesto?
Originating from Genoa, Italy, authentic pesto sauce is crafted from simple ingredients, including fresh basil leaves, garlic, parmesan cheese, pecorino cheese, pine nuts, olive oil, sea salt, and pepper.The name pesto comes from the Genovese word pestare, which means to pound or crush. It depicts the traditional method of preparing pesto using a mortar and pestle to combine ingredients.
Here are common ingredients used in different pesto varieties.
Common herbs used in pesto
The original pesto recipe, Pesto alla Genovese, exclusively uses Genovese basil as the primary herb due to its unique sweetness.Basil is a delicate herb, and using the mortar and pestle instead of harshly chopping or blending with a food processor slows down the oxidation of the leaves. This not only helps preserve the sauce's vivid green hue but also enhances its flavor and aroma.
However, pesto has evolved to encompass a broader range of ingredients.
Here are some other common herbs used in many pesto recipes:
- Italian flat-leaf parsley
- Cilantro
- Mint
- Oregano
Common nuts used in pesto
Similarly, some recipes replace the traditional toasted pine nuts with other types of nuts to add a unique twist to the classic dish.Here are some commonly used nuts used to prepare pesto:
- Almonds
- Cashews
- Walnuts
- Pecans
- Pistachios
Is pesto keto-friendly?
Traditional pesto is low in carbohydrates and contains less than one gram of net carbs per tablespoon. This makes pesto an excellent keto-friendly option that offers impressive flavors.However, since there are many different pesto variations, it’s crucial to read labels to check that there are no added sugars or hidden carbs that could interfere with ketosis.
For those following Healthy Keto, a low-carb diet that focuses on nutrient-dense whole foods, checking the ingredients list is essential, as many pre-made pestos can include potentially harmful additives and preservatives.
Watch this video to discover the health and nutritional benefits of basil.
Amazing Health & Nutritional Benefits Of Basil
4 health benefits of pesto
Authentic basil pesto combines several superfoods high in nutrients, offering many potential health benefits.Here are four reasons why you should incorporate more pesto into your meals.
1. Anti-aging properties
Research published in Frontiers in Nutrition shows that healthy fats, particularly the monounsaturated and polyunsaturated fatty acids found in olive oil, can improve brain function and help reduce the risk of cognitive decline.These fatty acids are also vital for supporting eye health and contribute to healthier skin by improving skin barrier function and hydration.
2. Supports the immune system
According to a study published in Foods, Genovese basil is particularly rich in polyphenols, including rosmarinic and caffeic acid.These health-promoting compounds have been linked to potent anti-inflammatory effects that support immune system function and may lower the risk of chronic diseases.
3. Potential anti-cancer effects
Key ingredients in pesto, including basil, garlic, and olive oil, are exceptional sources of antioxidants that may help lower cancer risk.
Antioxidants can counteract the effects of free radicals, thereby preventing oxidative stress, which is linked to cellular and DNA damage, a leading cause of cancer.
4. Promotes digestive health
Parmigiano Reggiano, widely considered the best cheese for pesto, contains digestive enzymes and beneficial gut bacteria, also known as probiotics.Probiotics help maintain a healthy gut microbiome essential for nutrient absorption, digestive health, and overall well-being.
Research published in Food Technology and Biotechnology found that Parmigiano Reggiano also contains oligosaccharides, which act as a prebiotic food source for beneficial gut bacteria.
Store-bought vs. homemade pesto
Italians will be the first to tell you there's no comparison between store-bought and homemade pesto sauce.Pesto is a delicate sauce that’s best consumed fresh, as its flavor and quality can deteriorate quickly, becoming bitter and dull as the enzymes released from basil oxidize.
To help extend pesto’s shelf life, store-bought versions often contain preservatives and additives that can negatively impact the flavor and quality of the sauce and may harm your health.
Additionally, many store-bought pestos will substitute critical ingredients, such as extra virgin olive oil (EVOO), cheese, or fresh garlic, with cheaper alternatives or omit them entirely, leading to a bland or unpalatable flavor and a significantly lower nutritional value.
How to choose the best store-bought pesto sauce
Homemade pesto sauce is always preferred, but if you don't have time to make it, the best premade pestos can often be found in the refrigerated section.Look for pestos that don't contain artificial preservatives or low-quality ingredients, such as sunflower oil or potato flakes. Instead, opt for certified organic and non-GMO products that use high-quality oil and real cheese sourced from grass-fed and pasture cows.
Keto-friendly pesto recipes
If you're looking for a way to add extra flavor to your keto meals, look no further than pesto. Chicken, fish, steak, and most vegetables pair exceptionally well with this tasty and versatile sauce.Here are some delicious keto-friendly pesto recipes:
- Sun-dried tomato pesto dip
- Vegan keto pine nut pesto
- Vegan mint pesto and veggie bowl
- Keto creamy basil sausage casserole
- Macadamia nut and parsley pesto vegan bowl
Zucchini noodles, keto gnocchi, and keto egg noodles are excellent low-carb pasta alternatives that work well with keto pesto sauce.
Tips to make the best pesto sauce
Here are some tips on how to choose the best ingredient to make a nutritious and flavorful pesto at home.Parmesan cheese
Opt for authentic Parmigiano Reggiano, an Italian staple that’s been in production for over 900 years.Known for its rich, nutty flavor and granular texture, Parmigiano Reggiano undergoes a meticulous aging process and adheres to stringent production standards, ensuring its authenticity and superior quality.
The Parmigiano Reggiano standard guidelines underscore a commitment to natural production, prohibiting additives and ensuring cows are fed local forage.
This approach not only guarantees the cheese's premium taste but also preserves essential nutrients and probiotics.
Olive oil
Select only pure cold-pressed EVOO. Many olive oils on the market are diluted with cheaper oils that compromise flavor and can introduce harmful ingredients that may negatively impact your health.In addition, evidence published in the Asia Pacific Journal of Clinical Nutrition summarizes, "phenolic content of olive oil is reduced by chemical extraction and refining."
By prioritizing cold-pressed EVOO, you ensure your olive oil is rich in flavor and health-promoting properties.
Fresh Genovese basil
Harvested during early growth stages to ensure optimal flavor, Genovese basil is the prime choice for making basil pesto.As Dr. Berg explains, "Basil has some amazing health benefits. It’s loaded with vitamin K, manganese, and flavonoids, which can help support healthy bones, blood clotting, and skeletal health while offering potent anti-inflammatory properties.”
2024.05.21 16:00 say-yes-to-RSM Which one should I go for?
 | So I will be finally entering a college and I need a gaming pc for some casual studies and gaming. Which one should suffice- The one with rtx 4070 or 4060? submitted by say-yes-to-RSM to GamingLaptops [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/uxsa5ae0ds1d1.png?width=776&format=png&auto=webp&s=184987a7fc5d9c285be6a1e91f665d5f51d503ac https://preview.redd.it/axwi2m91ds1d1.png?width=796&format=png&auto=webp&s=f5df1e0b4427d89b1dd21c28df0fa830f708d118 |
2024.05.21 14:47 cloutboicade_ 10 Foods You Should Never Eat
- Corn - Almost all corn, specifically in the US and Canada is produced by Monsanto seed. This is a man-made corn, which has been genetically modified and/or is a hybrid corn. It’s been processed. This corn was specifically developed by Monsanto to be fed to cows for them to put on fat quickly and grow fast. The more corn you eat, the fatter you get. It’s not the original, as nature intended it to be food. It causes allergic reactions to all degrees. Avoid anything with the word corn in it “Corn syrup solids”, “high fructose corn syrup”, “cornflower”, “corn starch”, “cornflakes”, etc. Look at the ingredients, if it has the word corn then avoid it. Monsanto is an American agricultural biotechnology and agrochemical company that was founded in 1901 by John Francis Queeny in St. Louis, Missouri. The company's products include glyphosate herbicides, crop seeds, and vegetables. Monsanto is best known for its herbicide Roundup, which is based on glyphosate. The company also produces genetically modified seeds, such as those that can tolerate glyphosate, which kills weeds without affecting the crop. What happened to Monsanto? Ethical Consumer
- Artificial Sweeteners - 2 main ones: Aspartame(nutrasweet) & Sucralose. Stay away from these two. These are found in diet sodas. These fall into a category called exito-toxins. They are chemically addictive. It’s the “new crack”. It affects the neuro-transmitter activity and the serotonin levels in your brain. This means these artificial sweeteners make you anxious, stressed, and depressed. They are in any diet product. If you see “no sugar”, it may be a marketing ploy - they want to convince you it has lower calories and some type of artificial sweetener. You find these. The actual foods or drinks taste horrible, but the aspartame and sucralose make it taste better. Fast food study
- Pork - A pig will eat anything. Scientists now know that whatever the pig eats turns to meat on its bones. The meat you eat puts toxicity in your body.
- Shellfish - More people get sick and/or die from eating “bad” shellfish than any other food group. Many people are also allergic to it more than any other food group. Shellfish isn't just a fish that comes in a shell like a scallop, mussel, lobster, clam, crab. It’s any fish in water that does not have scales and fins. Stay away from anything that comes out of the water with no scales and fins. Catfish has fins but no scales, stay away. Squid/Octopus stay away from. These non-scale/fin animals are called “filters”. They absorb whatever toxins that are in the water and they keep that in their flesh, which is eaten. This is also the law of kashra, the kosher laws - pork and shellfish fall into the kosher law category. It states that you can eat anything on the ground that has a split hoof and chews to cut. Which is why you don’t eat pork. Also, don’t eat anything that doesn’t have a split hoof and chews to cut like a bear(has a paw). States you should eat fish with fins and scales. The Kashrut Laws
- Hydrogenated Oils (Trans fats) - Look on the label. It says hydrogenated oil. These scar your arteries and lead to heart attack. It messes with hormones and affects sleep. Makes you hungrier and fatter. Affects immune system.
- Genetically Modified Organisms (GMO) - Buy foods that say no GMO’s. The majority of the ingredients have not been modified. With GMO, foods are modified.
- Monosodium Glutamate (MSG) - Falls into the same category as artificial sweeteners, it is an exito-toxin. Messes with neuro-transmitter activity, makes you hungrier, makes you thirsty, makes the body store extra fluid in fat cells making you gain weight, bloady, and fat. It increases fat cells and makes them bigger. KFC, Taco Bell, etc all have this.
- Wheat - If you live in Italy, this doesn't apply. Youdon’t want wheat that's come from Canada or USA because it's only been fermented for 48 hours. This is tough because how can you determine that? Duran-wheat means it's from Italy. This is trustworthy. If you can reduce the amount of wheat you consume, you’ll be better off because the majority of wheat hasn't been fermented for 48 hours. Its high gluten wheat, causes types of gas, bloating, allergic reactions, weight gain, etc. Make sure all your pasta comes from Italy (Organic product of Italy). If you make your own pasta, buy flour from italy. Same goes for bread in USA.
- Soy - All over the world. Almost all soy now comes from Monsanto seed. It’s been genetically modified and causes all types of intestinal problems and reduces testosterone. Same with corn, soy is everywhere - “soybean oil”. Soy-bean oil is very cheap. Even if it’s organic,it can still be genetically modified.
- Corn-fed beef & anything dairy that doesn't come from grass fed cows - Stay away from homogenized dairy. Cows eat grass. But in the industry, cows are fed Monsanto genetically altered corn to make them fat and get them to the supermarket quicker. Cows don't eat grain in real life, they eat grass. When a cat is fed corn and grain it will get fatter faster. In the commercial feed that's fed to cows, there is ground up dead cows, horses, other animals that were so diseased they couldn't be put into the food chain. But they'll feed it to a cow which is supposed to be a vegetarian only eating grass. This cow gets diseased as well. Those animals were injected with bovine growth hormones and massive amounts of antibiotics. When you eat beef, your testost. score goes down, you put your body in toxic shock, because of the growth hormone, which makes you fatter. These beefs don't have much CLA which is the acid in the beef that increases testosterone. Buy 100% organic grass fed beef and dairy. Buy raw cheese that comes from France or switzerland.