I have a back gate that my partner uses to enter + exit the property via wheelchair as the front steps are not reallly traversible for her. The problem is that bordering this back gate is a council garage/car park space on the opposite end of the gate, and an unmaintained neighbour's corner to the side. The old lady who prev owned the property died + the new owner comes by once every few months to gut the place then disappears so havent really caught him. Assuming he plans to either flip the house or rent it out.
In the neighbour's corner we have a bush thats overgrowing past the fence along with some invasive trees that will just cause more to sprout on my property and are at risk of building up big roots. See: https://i.imgur.com/yuEfKDC.jpg
On the council's side there is this mass build up of moss + mulch from where it hasn't been maintained. This massively builds up from the council's stuff against my back gate and makes it a slip / trip hazard when getting past the gate. See: https://i.imgur.com/UmeDq4P.jpg
Because the council around here are a bit useless and the neighbour is not unlike the Scarlet Pimpernel, I took the sledgehammer approach of tidying up what I could from my side of things and leaving the ball in their courts to do the rest. In the council's case: I love how they recently slapped an extra charge for green bin collections, so I decided I shouldn't be putting their waste in my bin - and I know it's not my waste because for the last 4 years I've been on top of trimming the hedge and always disposed of the leaves in the green bin. What I did instead was use a snow shovel to scrape away the excess council moss / mulch and. As for the neighbour's trees, I left the cuttings at the back fence of his garden so it's clear it's from his trees and not mine. For the moss / mulch from the council end, see: https://i.imgur.com/FPmneFs.jpg
This is what it looked like after a few hours of hedge trimming. As you can see, I clipped back some of the neighbour's stuff: https://i.imgur.com/X0nEwnD.jpg
And the hedge too (mirror'd): https://i.imgur.com/gje7CvS.jpg
Am I in the wrong here?

Hello.
Has anyone had experience with Creatine supplementation contributing to a breakthrough seizure in situations where their seizures were relatively under control with medication?
I am a 53 year old female and I have had only a few incidences of seizures in the last 8 years.
The source of my seizure activity was from an OPERABLE cavernous malformation. They removed it successfully but some extra activity remains present due to previous seizures and the surgery itself.
My first ever seizure (pre-surgery) I woke up from a nap and was trying to get ready to leave the house for my nieces kindergarten graduation. To my horror, I realized I was unable to speak. I was with my mother and in the car and trying to say anything and she realized something was wrong. She brought me to the ER and as soon as we walked in, I had my first tonic clonic seizure. That’s when they found out about the cavernoma.
Since the first seizure episode I take Keppra and things have been pretty good although I have experienced two more definite episodes of tonic clonic seizures since the first one.
Every time I have had a seizure it has been in the presence of my mom. My poor mom!
The first breakthrough seizure occurred about a year after surgery when I STUPIDLY thought I could try to wean off of the Keppra. That was a bad idea. Without warning, I seized. Obviously I should not have tried to stop the medication.
The second breakthrough seizure was a couple of years later and occurred at the end of a very hot day. I had been commuting by bicycle and had another tonic clonic. This one was proceeded by a very bad mood in the early evening. I was extremely irritated for no reason and later that evening seized.
Every time I have had a seizure it has been tonic clonic and I have woken up in the hospital.
I live alone most of the year and am a bit of a hermit which is totally fine most of the time as I am relatively seizure free… HOWEVER…
In the last couple of months I have started weight lifting to build muscle and with that, I also started taking Creatine (5g) per day. Everything was going well until last week.
I was at the gym doing very high intensity sprint work on a spin bike. It was a hot day. I left the gym and drove to the grocery store (one minute from gym). Upon checking out, I kept entering my debit code incorrectly I felt confused and a bit embarrassed. I paid in cash and went to the next grocery (where I live there are two groceries and you need to go to both to find everything). I had same problem with debit card at second grocery and this time, no ability to figure out how to pay in cash so I left. When I got back to my car I was met with more confusion. All I can remember is not being able to get into my car. My car has an alarm and a fob. Even once I was in my car I had trouble figuring out how to turn it on. I then woke up in my car (HOT CAR!) and was able to turn it on and drive to the post office. Even though I was feeling horrible and confused it did not occur to me that I could be near having a seizure. After checking my P.O. Box I made it home, out of my car into the gate and even managed to mumble something about the heat to my neighbor in passing.
I made it inside and the next thing I know I am on the floor. I had hit my nose, had a scrape on my cheek, forehead, nose, right knuckle and left toe. Also slightly bitten tongue. I had a horrible headache and nausea. I just got in bed and went to sleep.
When I woke up, my left hand felt paralyzed (clenched shut). My mind felt scrambled. My vision on the right felt very distorted. I was extremely hungry and thirsty and even though I had all of these challenges I opted for a snack that was not the easiest to make nor was it the tastiest.
For some reason I ate the snack with my paralyzed hand and went back to sleep. I woke up absolutely drenched in sweat. I took a shower and hydrated and took my evening dose of Keppra. My mind was starting to return to normal.
I was thinking nonstop about how to get in my car. I went up to see if I could open it and it was fine. I tried playing some of the word games that I play and felt scrambled at first but was able to get back to normal. I practiced talking. Words were jumbled at first and then I was able to speak normally.
I looked up a recipe for homemade electrolyte drink, made some and chugged it down.
I took it very easy for a few days and lucky I work from home… I have been able to just chill and obsess over whether I had a breakthrough seizure or whether I may have just had heat exhaustion. A week later and I am feeling myself again though I have been very tired in the morning and allowing myself extra sleep.
I am away from home for a couple of weeks. I do have my yearly check up with my neurologist coming up. I really don’t want to tell her about this.
If this was a seizure, this is the first time I have been alone. I hope it was not a seizure. If it was, I am not sure. Also, if it was, my episodes are years apart and they seem to be triggered by extreme heat and exercise. My only thing that is making me feel better mentally is that if I did have a seizure alone, I survived.
I also just joined Bumble because think it might be worth having a mate because of things like this. And not just because of this. I do feel lonely sometimes.
But back to my big question…
Has anyone had experience with Creatine contributing to breakthrough seizures?
Thank-you for any input and please try to refrain from saying anything that might freak me out as I am already quite unnerved.
Xoxo

Welcome back to my running series of WWF PPV Reviews from a ‘blind’ perspective (I have no idea what’s going to happen; the results, the feuds or how good any of the matches will be). I have always heard stories of the attitude era and golden age but never watched it myself so I set myself to watching every single PPV event chronologically. I am also watching Wrestling Bios ‘reliving the war’ series to keep me updated inbetween the events with the feuds, and to get excited about upcoming matches.
Before I review the matches, based on the past few episodes of raw and last PPVs I’ll let you know, going into the event, which match I’m most excited for and which feud I’m most excited to see.
The match and feud I’m most excited to see is Shawn vs undertaker. I mean what needs to be said their feud is absolutely legendary, and with my favourite match of all time coming in the future between these two I cant wait to see how they perform together in these early years.
WWF In Your House - Ground Zero 1997 Match Ratings
Goldust vs Brian Pillman 2/5
Scott putski vs Brian Christopher 1/5
Savio vega vs Faarooq vs Crush 0.25/5
El torito vs Max Mini 1.5/5
Tag Fatal 4 way elimination match 1.75/5
The patriot vs Bret Hart 3.25/5
Shawn Michaels vs Undertaker 4.75/5
I cannot believe they pulled the “she’s my love child” story it’s so funny to look back on these storylines. Goldust and Pillman are set to fight and there’s a huge grudge for Goldust here so I’m hoping to see a physical bout.
Which it wasn’t… while it was a good bout with no botched or anything, and it was better than their Summerslam match. I saw pillman was limited due to an ankle problem he had, which is kinda weird with the amount of running around he did, but they still had a decent match. Honestly though this draw of this match was where the story was going and it definitely went 😂 Pillman managed to win the match by whacking Goldust with a brick concealed in marlenas bag, and literally drags marlena to his car where he drove off with her. Classic wwf is so hilarious.
The next match was the first time I’m seeing putski and Christopher wrestle and it was actually going well until that ending. I thought they pulled off some very clean looking spots but the crowd was completely dead for almost all of this match, especially after the match, just no one seemed to care. I didn’t really care for this Brian Christopher he was laughing like a clown or something, not even a figure of speech it was literally like a clown. He might’ve been trying to impersonate Lawler but it was just weird. I’m not sure if putski was actually injured or not it was pretty hard to tell but this match seemed like it was 3 or 4 minutes long of pretty dull action.
Going into the next match and honestly I’m pretty bored of these pointless gang wars but let’s see if it can deliver. Maybe rock will get involved and liven it up but all three competitors in this triple threat have yet to put on a good show during my journey through the new gen/attitude era. Also I feel like this is the first triple threat match I’ve seen since KOTR 1996 so there’s some level of excitement for me as it can make for a really entertaining match when done right.
I was surprised to see crush get a pop as I hadn’t heard one before when he made his entrance, but a big biker dude coming in on a massive Harley will get an American crowd going I suppose 😂. But oh man once the match got going there was actually boos going throughout the stadium for the last 1/3 of it. They were trying some weird thing where they played on the fact that they both used to be part of the NOD in which they’d team with farooq on sadio vega but oh my lord it didn’t work at all, it just came off like they had no idea what they were doing. There were no highlights at all, and the last 5 minutes was crush throwing vega out the ring to use moves solo on farooq to which he’d come back in the ring, break the pin and repeat the process. Then he randomly wants to team with crush after all that?? It made no sense at all and was just a bad match, the crowd wasn’t into it and booed during quite a bit of the match, big miss.
I’m just gunna call it a ‘mini-match’ and I’m sure you’ll know what I’m talking about but it ended up being entertaining for what it was in all fairness, much better than the match I’d just seen anyway. It was more of a funny performance than a match; they both end up biting everyone’s asses? Including the referee, and mini goes and steals lawyers crown too. El torito is bloody nuts, his character is basically to act like a bull so he chases refs and officials around trying to headbutt them, fu**ing nuts 😂. I do think it went on a little too long though, if they’re going to book this kind of match then it should be short and sweet filler rather than dragging it on. There was however a pretty good looking springboard move close to the end so that was cool. There were some impressive moves and the crowd was getting involved but It’s just some filler while the show gets going in the end.
Very good idea having dude love and Austin come out inbetween the matches to relinquish the titles as this crowd REALLY needed some livening up after the past hour of the show. And when Steve starts his promo the crowd eats up every second of it and it’s no surprise because he kills it as usual, what a breath of fresh air SCSA is in the WWF during this era. He’s throwing insults to Vince, to the sergeant to JR and it’s f***ing brilliant. It’s cool seeing dude love backing him up as well I think they actually make a really cool looking tag team. And then out of god damn nowhere he delivers a stunner to JR and the crowd absolutely loses it. I would say at this point he is truly the face of the WWF and it really does suck that he suffered that neck injury and couldn’t wrestle properly for a while, having to change his entire wrestling style because of it, but it was never to his detriment, we’re truly in the stone cold era now.
Before the fatal four way, while the LOD get interviewed I couldn’t help but notice how young Michael Cole looks, I mean obviously it’s over 25 years ago but still cool seeing how long he’s been involved.
I really don’t understand these fatal four way tag matches, they always come off weirdly as you can have two people from the same team in the ring that have to wrestle… but it makes no sense because why not just tag someone else in? I don’t know it’s a weird dynamic and I’m not surprised they dropped this type of match in the future.
It’s a shame LOD was the first to be eliminated because they randomly started beating the godwinns with a metal bucket? It makes 0 sense for them to blindly DQ themselves from getting the tag titles since they were crowd favourites, but okay you do you Vince. I wanted them to win too. I know a few people don’t care for LOD but they’re top 2 tag teams in the wwf right now beside Owen and bulldog. The godwinns get eliminated next (thank god), and they just feel like the most filler tag team I’ve ever seen they’re SOOO bland and basic, they don’t even play up to their hillbilly characters anymore which is a new level of bad I won’t lie. I was really REALLY surprised that headbangers took away the belts though, with the massive push of the hart foundation I thought it was a no brainer. It was awesome seeing Austin come in and disrupt the match, he absolutely brings the whole arena completely alive whenever he does anything. Overall though the match was bad and it went on far too long even with four teams. I think the ending was pretty fun but that was only about 2 minutes of the match that was entertaining the rest just felt veryyyy slow.
Man this event has really gotta pull out some f***ing 5/5 main events for it to be worth watching because we’re 1 hour 45 minutes in without a match over 2/5 at most.
When I hear Kurt angles theme playing I was so happy, excited, confused, and then disappointed when I realised it was 3 or 4 years too early. I had no idea they kept this theme and used it for Kurt angle as well as patriot.
I have a small inkling that Bret hart didn’t perform as well as he could’ve in this match because he was annoyed about Shawn getting the top spot after everything that’s gone down and him working more regularly recently than Shawn. Patriot wasn’t a bad wrestler but his character was extremely bland, what would happen after this feud? He’d just be a guy that’s proud to be from America that looks like a Mexican wrestler… in the time of big characters making the main events he unfortunately doesn’t really fit in that well. His in ring ability was good though, no botches or anything but I just couldn’t really feel myself getting into this match. I didn’t really know if they’d book patriot in to take the wwf title as I was pretty sure they wouldn’t want hart to lose his title being such a huge name in the business right now. It was pretty fun when Vader and bulldog came out for some extra drama with them interfering with each of the wrestlers but it’s not a good sign when a match needs drama like that to elevate it. It’s better than what we’ve seen tonight but not particularly worth watching. If you love Bret hart give it a watch as he was his usual fantastic in ring performer but it’s not one of his best for sure. The crowd was really into it, making the hard camera shake chanting “USA USA”, so that was cool, but I’m not entirely sure if it’s because of the crowd or because it was such a small venue. Also worth noting Bret hart is a perfect heel character, he’s a massive star with a character that works perfectly as a heel because he sprinkles some IRL elements into everything he does. The move of breaking the American flag pole and the strangling patriot with the flag is just brilliant, makes it that extra bit more believable and I love it, Americans however must’ve hated it!
Shawn Michaels entrance was so hilarious, he gets hit by a… idk what that even was, a brown cabbage? He makes BJ notions to the crowd, his pyro doesn’t go off properly in the ring like it usually does, and he still pulled it off because he’s HBK, fantastic. This FEELS like main event material though and I’m really excited for it. Sometimes main events don’t really build up properly and just haven’t got that hype behind it but this match should be great. The first of many times we’d see these legends in the ring together.
Starting off the match right too with undertaker taking out the referee and allowing undertaker to take it to the outside and absolutely lay into Michael’s without a count out. I absolutely loved Shawn’s selling during this match too, it’s so over the top that it’s brilliant, with one of his famous vertical presses while he gets kicked in the belly whilst in the corner, love it. Him begging to the ref to dq undertaker, trying to escape through the door of the set and banging on the door, it all works really well and he plays up undertakers character perfectly. I hate when wrestlers forget they’re supposed to play up this undertaker being very scary it really takes away immersion but Shawn does it perfectly. The boos for undertaker seem to be from the women only and the cheers for Shawn seem to be from the women only, of course 😂. I also love seeing the origins of d generation x, one of my all time favourite tag teams as I’m sure is the same with everyone else. HHH makes his way down to the ring with a referee to replace the numerous ones that have been taken out during this match, and they are just the perfect team together I love it.
The actual match I thought was really really fun. It was absolute chaos and maybe not a wrestling masterclass but you can’t deny it was fun. From start to finish we go through 3 referees, we get strangling with power chords, we get triple H and HBK telling the crowd to suck it, and an amazing back and forth showcase from Michael’s and undertaker. I think this match did an absolutely fantastic job and reinstating the undertaker as the most intimidating wrestler in the wwf. The poor referees during this match though, they got absolutely abused. The only thing I didn’t like about this match was the ending. Another random referee comes to the ring to end the match as a DQ, which is a really stupid ending because illegal stuff had already happened when the other referees came to the ring so why wouldn’t they have ended it then? The action continues after the match with undertaker almost soloing Michael’s and HHH. More officials come to the ring as Michael’s beats the hell out of them. And then other wrestlers are forced to come to the ring to try and break the two up which was awesome to see. This really sets up further matches between the two, and I think that’s was the whole idea of the match which worked well, it’s just that I hate these random DQ endings to main events. We see the undertaker flying over the top rope for… I think the first time? Correct me if I’m wrong but I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve seen it in this era which was of course AWESOME!! Overall a really fun match that sets up for further main events but it’s held back by its weird and stupid decision. It’s still well worth a watch if you enjoy this feud however.
Overall, whilst the main event hit all the right places for me I just don’t think the WWF was ready for a 3 hour event yet. They simply didn’t have the roster for it to be enjoyable and so many of these matches went way longer than they had any business doing. I think Bret hart is always gunna deliver so he was fun to watch but it just want one of his best but the main event hit in every single way apart from the finish which I understand is setting up for further matches but ughhhh it was done weirdly and poorly. If you’re gunna watch this event, skip everything but the main event it’s just not worth sitting through everything else.
Overall rating 2.75/5

Proof I was here. (As I stated in the first thread, I will not be disclosing this location to any of you. Took as neutral of a photo as I could. If you live here, MAYBE you'll recognize it. Take it for what it is, I guess.)
Link to part one.
Before we begin, let me start by saying WOW, simply because when I passed out last night, I was hovering around ~350 upvotes and had a steady trickle of interaction with people. I was doing my best to respond to the comments as they came in. Then, when I woke up this morning, ya'll...I had over 1500 messages in my inbox and the thread has fucktupled in upvotes, just overnight. I'm so sorry if I didn't respond to you...it was a fool's errand to try and get to everyone.
I also want to address specifically a small handful of you...the ones I was certain would show up in the comments to basically call me a liar or say my story was fabricated. Some of the reasons you gave were pretty telling. My favorite was when someone said something along the lines of "This is too well-written to be true." What a world we live in where clear dictation automatically disqualifies a recounting of events from being accurate. I'll admit that it read closer to a novel than anything else, but that's just how I dictate I guess.
Anyways, onto the update.
I arrived at the tire shop just a hair after 8:00am. There was one gentleman in line at the counter when I arrived, but he was already being assisted by one of the associates manning the register. I took a look around and peeked my head in the back office area where I knew John typically worked when he wasn't being pulled into a bay.
John wasn't there.
As I walked towards the sitting area, I happened to ask an employee who was walking by if he knew when John would be in today. He told me John usually arrives a bit before 9:00am when he worked mornings, so I should just chill for a bit. I didn't have anything pressing to attend to today, so I did just that.
As I moved towards a seat, I happened to glance outside at the working bays and noticed my ol' buddy Eric, who was currently walking towards the main building. When he saw me, I watched as his head drooped down and I could visibly see him mutter the word "Fuck" under his breath. He stopped for just a second, shook his head, and continued walking towards the building.
When he came inside, he set a packet with what I presume was a customer order on the counter and said something to the clerk at the register. He hesitated for a moment and walked over to where I was sitting. As he approached, I greeted him with "Morning, Eric." and smiled. He just stood over me for a moment before he took a chair across the coffee table that was sitting in front of me.
Wonder what his next move was?
Honestly, I didn't expect it, but the dude opened with "I owe you an apology."
Color me shocked, I guess.
Now, you see...at this point about a billion things began to run around in my head. MOSTLY, for some reason, the things that ran most prominently through my mind were all the calls for bloodshed that popped up in the last thread. All the claims that Boomers can never learn and the only language they knew was bullying, which were thrown at me like mortars practically every step I took. Ya'll were bloodthristy last night and still were this morning, convinced that this gentleman was a drunkard asshat, but do drunk asshats apologize after doing something wrong?
Back to the story.
He continued on, saying that he didn't just owe ME an apology, but also the cashier he yelled at last night, and how he had actually planned on returning to Walmart on his lunch break to see if she was working so he could apologize to her as well. In his words "I've been dealing with a lot of personal shit in my life recently including the loss of a loved one, and I took that out on ya'll last night and it wasn't right."
Right about this time is when I noticed that John had arrived. He walked in through the door behind where Eric and I were sitting and walked straight into the back area I checked before. We will get to that later.
Guys, I honestly had no idea what to do. On one hand yes, this dude was a raging douchebag to that girl last night, but this felt genuine. I mentioned several times in the first thread that I didn't want to react hastily and this is exactly why. Had I gone in there and thrown a colossal fit and started a shitstorm, I don't know if this would have ended the same.
Anyways, I don't wish to grandstand things further. The guy apologized, I stood up and shook his hand, and I simply told him "Be good to people for no reason, man. Kindness is free and isn't a sign of weakness." We chatted a bit and had a bit of a revelation that Eric and I have a distant connection neither of us really knew about. I won't disclose what or how we knew each other for personal reasons.
Then John came out of the back office.
He recognized me and gave me a hug. Asked what I was in for. I basically told him that I ran into Eric at the store last night and wanted to check in on him and get an update on an issue he was having there.
That's when John said "Yeah, Eric I need to talk to you about that. I had a lady call me about something that happened at Walmart you were involved in."
Oh shit. I'm guessing either the manager or the cashier called John after what happened last night. I guess the ball isn't in my court any longer.
Eric gave a deep sigh and basically told John "I was a shithead to a cashier last night because I was in a hurry. I wasn't thinking and it wasn't right. I'm gonna make it right at lunch time. I hope she's working today." John then said something I didn't catch and him and Eric walked into the back room.
That's it. End of story. I took a scrap from a notebook, jotted down my "proof" and snapped a photo, then jumped in my car and left.
I certainly hope that this brings you guys whatever closure you were looking for. I'm certain some of you aren't going to be happy with how this turned out, given how many pitchforks I saw last night. But after all this, all I can say is to not be so hasty when jumping to conclusions. People are people, ya'll. You can't really be sure what someone is going through before you jump to judgment. Some folks don't know how to ask for forgiveness or don't know how to take responsibility for their actions, but some folks can. I'm glad this resolved itself the way it did. John knows what happened and knows that it happened with his business on full display, so he can now CHOOSE how HE reacts with that information. I got the closure I needed, and I hope the cashier does too. Time will tell in that regard, I suppose.
Be good to each other.
EDIT: I'm present in the comments, trying to interact with as many of you as I can. But comments are coming in so fast I can't keep up. Sorry!

I'm at a bit of a cross-roads here. Currently expert level Toyota MDT apprentice role. will still become MDT eventually, just need 18 more months of tenure. Already have the certs.
Heres the probem though, I make a modest 29/hr flat rate, but I am lucky to pull 70 hours a pay period, though I am physically here 90ish hours (7am-5am). Pair that with being in about 7k in debt for tools and I am starting to lose morale. I love working on cars, or machinery in general. But the inconsistent pay is endlessly stressful.
When I become MDT, I get a pay bump, and access to more advanced work. This could easily grant me 6 figures if I really bust my ass (up to 37hr, 120-140hours)
Would you stick to this path? Maybe take a vacation to help with the loss of morale and get to working towards that MDT?
OR...
Jump careers???
I am interested in tinkering with just about any machinery. Solar farms, BOATS, Air-planes, Factories, Buildings! ANYTHING where I can use my brain and my tools to produce results.
How is the conversion from an experience Automotive Technician to other Technician roles? Would I be stuck starting from the beginning again? Would anything change having Toyota Master diag technician (highest technical level for automotive repair)
TL;DR - CURRENTLY Toyota Expert Tech, will be MDT in 18 months. OR Jump careers to make AT LEAST similar money and not be stuck at the entry level cycle. Please suggest anything relayed to Automotive mechanic careers?

​

Disclaimer: I have switched back to the main subreddit, so aside from three, maybe four of you, you’re probably missing out on some context. If you’d like to be all caught up, you can comb through the previous episodes on my profile.
Votes:
Emma - 2
Katie - 1
Props to u/Proofracer for coming up with plot points
At the campfire ceremony, Chris attempts to build suspense by reminding the campers about the safety of a marshmallow, but Heather insists he get on with it, so the moment is cut short. Chris calls on Shawn, Zoey and Max before tossing them all a marshmallow. He then gives Owen and Heather one each, leaving Emma and Katie. Both Emma and Heather shoot angry looks at Katie, making her feel a tad worried, but Chris gives her the last marshmallow and deems Emma eliminated, causing her to have an outburst at Heather.
Emma: I knew I couldn’t trust you! You’re a backstabbing snake!
Heather: Please, as if I’d betray you this early. If I had any say, you’d still be here for a few more weeks.
Emma: Then, how?
Katie: It’s not just me who’d been fed up with how mean you’ve become. We don’t want a second Heather on this team. No offense.
Heather: Offense taken.
As Emma walks the dock of shame and the rest of the Screaming Gophers disperse, Chris turns to the camera to say his outro.
Chris: Will Max finally do something actually evil? How much longer can Heather keep her alliance afloat? And what will Damien do once he finds out about Bunny’s replacement? Find out next time, on Total Drama Island!
In-world votes:
Emma - Katie, Owen, Max, Shawn
Katie - Heather, Zoey, Emma
Basic Straining
The episode opens with Duncan using his knife to carve a skull into the wall of the Bass cabin when Axel exits the cabin. She scoffs at him, but before she can leave, Duncan attempts to apologize for how he’s treated her in the past. Axel stops to think for a second, but she sees through Duncan’s lie and leaves anyway.
Confessional:
Duncan: Of course I didn’t mean what I said to Axel, but Trent and Sammy are too loyal to one another, and Damien’s essentially attached himself to Dawn. Sadly this means that Axel is the only person I have a chance to ally with, so I need to get back on her good side.
Meanwhile at the Gophers cabin, Katie is sitting dejectedly on the front steps when Owen comes over to cheer her up.
Owen: Are you still bummed out about poisoning me? It’s okay, I know it was an accident.
Katie: That’s only half the problem. Emma got so mad at me for it, and now apparently I brought a cursed item to the team.
Owen: You mean your tiki souvenir? Are you sure it’s cursed?
Katie: Apparently it’s from Boney Island, so I’d say it’s pretty cursed.
Owen: Well, you don’t have to get rid of it, if that’s what you’re worried about. It may be cursed, but it’s still yours. I say you should keep it to remember this show by.
Katie: Thanks Big-O.
Owen: You know what? Let's prove Emma wrong. If you try your best this time, I’m sure you’d do way better at the challenge than you think!
Just then, the loudspeakers turn on, but instead of Chris, it’s Chef Hatchet who orders the campers to meet him at the docks for their next challenge. At the docks, Chef is dressed in a military uniform and starts barking orders at the campers about fixing their forms, with the one exception being Axel, whose form he deems “surprisingly average”. Chef then goes over today’s challenge. The teams will go through Chef’s grueling boot camp and drop out one by one until the last person remaining wins immunity for their team. Heather asks Chef what happened to Chris, but he ignores it and starts going over further rules, like how everyone will have to address him as Master Chief, and that no one eats or sleeps unless he says so.
Confessional:
Axel: I was never trained in the military, but I’m adept in most fields of work Master Chief could go over, so this will be a breeze.
For the first part of the boot camp, each team must carry a canoe, and will continue to do so until someone drops out and rings a bell on the dock. Owen and Trent each make a remark about how easy the challenge sounds, but by noon, everyone is starting to feel the heat.
Chris and Chef are sitting on top of the canoes while taunting the campers about missing lunch. This causes Owen to think about quitting, but Max catches on and tells him not to.
The Bass are still holding up strong, so Duncan tries to talk to Axel again. He says that he knows she hates him, but they’re both stuck between the two couples and need each other. This causes Axel to angrily reply that she’d take her chances with the others over him, leaving Duncan beginning to get annoyed. However, Trent overhears the conversation and begins to look worried.
As night rolls through, the campers are all tired, especially Owen, who has fallen asleep with his arms still holding onto the canoe. Chef is recalling a story from his military days, and Heather asks him what war he was in, causing him to shout at her. Heather then turns to Shawn and tries to strike up a conversation with him.
Heather: Hey Zombie Boy, how do you feel about joining my alliance?
Shawn: Wait what? You’re kidding, right?
Heather: You and Emma were friends, yes?
Shawn: Sure, but that doesn’t mean I trust you. What happened to getting payback on me for locking you in the freezer?
Heather: You could trust me if you were in my alliance. With Emma gone, I’m missing a member of the alliance, and if you join, you won’t be in as bad a spot as you are now.
Shawn: Oh, and what is that supposed to mean?
Heather: Think about it. I didn’t vote Emma off, she got herself eliminated. If the team knew you worked with her, maybe they’d vote you out too. Especially since you’re such a big threat without any allies. With me, I could protect you, plus I won’t plot against you anymore.
Shawn: You were plotting against me?
Heather: That’s besides the point. Just think about it.
Later, Chef has finished bragging about his line of duty just in time for Max to decide he isn’t going to stand in one spot anymore. Much to his teammate’s dismay, he walks down the dock and rings the bell, thus allowing the contestants to drop their canoes. Chef insults Max through his megaphone before ordering everyone else to go to the mess hall to eat dinner, getting Owen excited.
In the cafeteria, Chef announces that everyone will get only ten minutes to eat before he starts night training, which gains him a lot of complaints. Damien asks him where the food is, and Chef gestures to a row of trash cans filled with leftover garbage from breakfast, which only causes more complaining. Owen, however, doesn’t discriminate against the disgusting food and eats some anyway. Chris then invites Chef to eat at the craft services tent, leaving the teams to themselves.
Trent meets with Sammy and tells her about what he heard between Duncan and Axel. He says that Duncan has a point and that since nobody really likes Duncan, Axel would be the deciding vote between them and Dawn and Damien. Hearing this, Sammy comes up with an idea, and suggests winning Axel over ahead of time so that she’s with them. Trent likes the idea, so Sammy goes over to talk with Axel. They have a friendly conversation, and Sammy offers Axel the least disgusting food she can find in the trash, to which Axel declines. Sammy then returns to Trent to talk about other ways to win Axel over.
Damien was watching Sammy’s conversation with Axel, and realises what she and Trent were trying to do, so he walks over to Dawn to talk with her.
Damien: I hate to say this, but we’re going to have to start getting extra votes against Trent and Sammy
Dawn: But why? Wouldn’t we just vote Duncan?
Damien: No, that’s not- I mean, after Duncan’s gone, all that’s left of the Killer Bass is us, them, and Axel. And I think they know that too, because they’re trying to bond with her.
Dawn: Yes, Axel is stuck in between the four of us. I’m not very worried though. I’m good friends with her.
Damien: I know, but we should start getting closer so that if need be, Axel will vote with us instead of them.
Damien then digs through the trash and finds a carrot that is half eaten, but otherwise clean. He decides to save it for Bunny, before noticing that Dawn looks unsure of something. He asks her what’s wrong and she brushes it off as having missed Bunny while it was gone. Damien is happy with this answer and tells Dawn that he knew she and Bunny would get along well, but this only makes her feel worse.
Confessional:
Dawn: Bunny left Damien, but I still don’t know why Duncan found a replacement. Duncan is not to be trusted, but I don’t know how to break the news to Damien that Bunny’s really gone.
We then cut to the next part of the boot camp, which is to repeat Chef’s suspiciously Triller-esque dance routine. The dancing goes on for a while until it’s interrupted when Duncan shuts off the music. Chef angrily asks him what he’s doing so Duncan reminds him about how once someone drops out the training ends. Chef says that they’ll be done when he says they’re done, before forcing Duncan to do push-ups.
Next up, write a three hundred word essay about how much you love Chef, being eliminated if you fall asleep or fail to reach the minimum word count. Owen and Katie are discussing ways to pad out their essays while cracking jokes to make each other laugh. Seeing the two of them bonding, Shawn turns back to his own essay looking a little less confident.
Duncan takes a break from doing the challenge to try and persuade Axel to join him again. She snaps at him and tells him to get lost, but Duncan mentions Shawn, which gets her attention.
Duncan: Let’s face it, everybody knows you like Shawn.
Axel: So? If you want to mock me about it, expect a fight!
Duncan: No, I’m saying that you two are pathetic. Neither one of you ever makes a move! Watching you two is like watching a car crash in slow motion.
Axel: (Sarcastically) Thanks for the advice, Dr. Love.
Duncan: You need a wingman, badly. So it’s going to be me.
Axel: Why would I ever listen to you?
Duncan: Because if you and Shawn are ever going to be a thing, you need me.
Axel: Fine. But if you pull anything you’ll leave this island in a cast.
Duncan gets Axel to close the deal with a handshake before returning back to working on the challenge. Later, Chef returns to pick up the essays, and eliminates both Trent and Zoey for falling asleep. As for everyone else, their essays meet the requirement, although Duncan’s is just one sentence with 289 verys in between. On his way out of the cafeteria, Chef slips in a puddle of Owen’s drool from him being half asleep, and Duncan offers to clean him off. This causes Chef to yell at him again, and the rest of the Bass stop Duncan from saying anything more, lest he get them all in trouble.
The next evening, the training continues, as Chef forces the campers to run an obstacle course until everyone can do it in less than a minute. As they climb a wooden wall, Axel asks Duncan for advice and he tells her she should get Shawn’s attention by showing off her survival skills in the course. Axel takes the advice and waits for Shawn to reach the top of the wall before jumping off and doing acrobatic tricks in midair. This catches Shawn’s eye, who shows off some tricks of his own in return.
The obstacle course causes trouble for some of the other campers, as Owen gets stuck while jumping through a tire, getting him eliminated. On top of that, Damien falls flat on his face when climbing the wall. He pukes up some mud, and is coughing and sputtering, so Chef eliminates him too and sends him to the infirmary.
After going through a montage of campers falling into the mud or otherwise failing, we see Katie struggle to clear a rope swing. She remembers what Owen told her and tries it again, only to clear it easily. She cheers for herself before continuing to run the course.
While crawling through the mud, Sammy reaches a deep spot and starts sinking. Duncan passes while mocking her, only to come across an angry Chef. He gives Duncan more pushups, but Duncan just thanks Chef before kissing him on the nose. This sends Chef off the edge and he announces that Duncan will spend the rest of the night in solitary confinement in the boathouse. This causes everyone to gasp, but Duncan asks how bad it could be, before we cut to him sitting in the boathouse regretting that comment.
In the cafeteria, the contestants remaining in the boot camp are being fed rock hard gruel. Dawn sits down next to Axel, intending to win her over, but Axel is the one to talk first. She explains to Dawn how Duncan is working as a wingman for her and Shawn, and while Dawn is happy for Axel, she reminds her about how Duncan is untrustworthy. She talks about how he replaced Bunny when it left Damien, and that she thinks he has a secret agenda behind everything. Axel agrees with Dawn but leaves to get more advice from Duncan anyway.
Heather finds the gruel Chef has served her to be well past unappetizing, and chooses to instead try to persuade Shawn again. She points out how close Owen, Katie and Max have become, and that since she still has Zoey, they’ll go after him first. After careful consideration, Shawn caves and agrees to work with her. But he specifies that while he will do what’s required for her to protect him, he will not associate himself as a member of her alliance. Despite this, Heather is still pleased by the news, and leaves to get some sleep.
In the boathouse, Axel finds Duncan sweeping the floors to pass the time.
Duncan: Did you get General Crazy angry at you too?
Axel: No, I’m here so you can make good on our deal. What’s some more advice you have?
Duncan: Really? You can’t be so desperate that you need my help for every single thing.
Axel: Then what do you want me to do then? This was entirely your idea!
Duncan: Just ask Shawn out. Maybe set up a date or something. But if you just sit there and don’t talk to him I promise you that nothing good will happen. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to mess with Chef.
Duncan then leaves despite Chef’s orders and heads towards the craft services tent, leaving Axel behind wondering what she could do.
In the Gophers cabin, Katie visits Owen, who congratulates her on doing so well in the boot camp. Katie is ecstatic at her performance and thanks him for giving her the pep talk. Max, while also happy for Katie, insists that “Evil has better things to do than make friends” as he works on something secret in his bunk bed. Owen tells Katie that he thinks she can win the entire challenge, but to this Katie is still a bit skeptical.
The remaining Bass return to their cabin to find Trent and Damien playing cards on the front steps, and inside Dawn finds various snacks left in a big pile on her bed. She’s confused how it got there, but is happy to finally find something edible, so she invites everybody on both teams to hang out and eat the food. As the eleven of them dig in, they discuss how insane Chef is for making them do full on combat training, with only Shawn, Axel, and surprisingly Katie enjoying the challenge. Eventually the relaxation is ruined when Chef barges in and orders everyone in the Killer Bass to line up outside. He announces that the food they were dining on was stolen from the craft services tent, and that he was tipped off that it was one of them because the perpetrator left a raw bass in the fridge. Dawn confesses that she found it on her bed, but before she can explain herself Chef automatically eliminates her from the boot camp and confiscates the rest of the food.
Chef starts the last part of the boot camp the next morning, which is to hang upside-down from a tree until only one person is left. The last campers left are Sammy, Duncan and Axel for the Bass, and Shawn, Heather and Katie for the Gophers. Axel confronts Duncan about what he did, and he admits he stole Chris and Chef’s food, left a bass behind as a calling card and dumped the food on the first bed he found. Axel is pissed at him for getting Dawn in trouble with Chef and cuts the deal between them, causing Duncan to tell her that he never really cared.
Confessional:
Duncan: Okay, maybe I went a little too far, but I’ve always found a way to stay in the game. Surely this will be no different, right?
Chef rants about the side effects of being upside down, and as he goes over each one, someone gets it, causing them to fall off the tree. Eventually it’s down to Axel and Katie, with Dawn cheering on Axel while Owen motivates Katie. Axel looks between Dawn and Duncan, and is visibly conflicted, while Katie’s starting to get dizzy. But just as she’s about to fall, Axel jumps off first, meaning the Screaming Gophers win. Katie then falls off the tree before being enveloped in a bear hug by Owen. Chef congratulates Katie, saying he’d go to war with her anytime, but she gets mixed messages from the complement.
Duncan scolds Axel, saying she lost the challenge for them. But she snaps at him in front of everyone.
Axel: You are not fit to be on this island! You essentially threw two challenges, ridiculed me the entire game, and now got Dawn disqualified just because you wanted to prank Chef! So excuse me if I want you out!
Duncan snaps back at her before storming off, and for the first time in a while, Axel looks relieved. Dawn then comes up to her with Damien telling her that she did the right thing. Afterwards, Damien asks Dawn if she only said that to get Axel on their side, gaining an annoyed look from her. Seeing this, he backtracks and says that they should help Axel like real friends, and is relieved when Dawn nods her head in agreement.
Vote off a Killer Bass and come up with any plot points you want to see later.

Hello.
Has anyone had experience with Creatine supplementation contributing to a breakthrough seizure in situations where their seizures were relatively under control with medication?
I am a 53 year old female and I have had only a few incidences of seizures in the last 8 years.
The source of my seizure activity was from an OPERABLE cavernous malformation. They removed it successfully but some extra activity remains present due to previous seizures and the surgery itself.
My first ever seizure (pre-surgery) I woke up from a nap and was trying to get ready to leave the house for my nieces kindergarten graduation. To my horror, I realized I was unable to speak. I was with my mother and in the car and trying to say anything and she realized something was wrong. She brought me to the ER and as soon as we walked in, I had my first tonic clonic seizure. That’s when they found out about the cavernoma.
Since the first seizure episode I take Keppra and things have been pretty good although I have experienced two more definite episodes of tonic clonic seizures since the first one.
Every time I have had a seizure it has been in the presence of my mom. My poor mom!
The first breakthrough seizure occurred about a year after surgery when I STUPIDLY thought I could try to wean off of the Keppra. That was a bad idea. Without warning, I seized. Obviously I should not have tried to stop the medication.
The second breakthrough seizure was a couple of years later and occurred at the end of a very hot day. I had been commuting by bicycle and had another tonic clonic. This one was proceeded by a very bad mood in the early evening. I was extremely irritated for no reason and later that evening seized.
Every time I have had a seizure it has been tonic clonic and I have woken up in the hospital.
I live alone most of the year and am a bit of a hermit which is totally fine most of the time as I am relatively seizure free… HOWEVER…
In the last couple of months I have started weight lifting to build muscle and with that, I also started taking Creatine (5g) per day. Everything was going well until last week.
I was at the gym doing very high intensity sprint work on a spin bike. It was a hot day. I left the gym and drove to the grocery store (one minute from gym). Upon checking out, I kept entering my debit code incorrectly I felt confused and a bit embarrassed. I paid in cash and went to the next grocery (where I live there are two groceries and you need to go to both to find everything). I had same problem with debit card at second grocery and this time, no ability to figure out how to pay in cash so I left. When I got back to my car I was met with more confusion. All I can remember is not being able to get into my car. My car has an alarm and a fob. Even once I was in my car I had trouble figuring out how to turn it on. I then woke up in my car (HOT CAR!) and was able to turn it on and drive to the post office. Even though I was feeling horrible and confused it did not occur to me that I could be near having a seizure. After checking my P.O. Box I made it home, out of my car into the gate and even managed to mumble something about the heat to my neighbor in passing.
I made it inside and the next thing I know I am on the floor. I had hit my nose, had a scrape on my cheek, forehead, nose, right knuckle and left toe. Also slightly bitten tongue. I had a horrible headache and nausea. I just got in bed and went to sleep.
When I woke up, my left hand felt paralyzed (clenched shut). My mind felt scrambled. My vision on the right felt very distorted. I was extremely hungry and thirsty and even though I had all of these challenges I opted for a snack that was not the easiest to make nor was it the tastiest.
For some reason I ate the snack with my paralyzed hand and went back to sleep. I woke up absolutely drenched in sweat. I took a shower and hydrated and took my evening dose of Keppra. My mind was starting to return to normal.
I was thinking nonstop about how to get in my car. I went up to see if I could open it and it was fine. I tried playing some of the word games that I play and felt scrambled at first but was able to get back to normal. I practiced talking. Words were jumbled at first and then I was able to speak normally.
I looked up a recipe for homemade electrolyte drink, made some and chugged it down.
I took it very easy for a few days and lucky I work from home… I have been able to just chill and obsess over whether I had a breakthrough seizure or whether I may have just had heat exhaustion. A week later and I am feeling myself again though I have been very tired in the morning and allowing myself extra sleep.
I am away from home for a couple of weeks. I do have my yearly check up with my neurologist coming up. I really don’t want to tell her about this.
If this was a seizure, this is the first time I have been alone. I hope it was not a seizure. If it was, I am not sure. Also, if it was, my episodes are years apart and they seem to be triggered by extreme heat and exercise. My only thing that is making me feel better mentally is that if I did have a seizure alone, I survived.
I also just joined Bumble because think it might be worth having a mate because of things like this. And not just because of this. I do feel lonely sometimes.
But back to my big question…
Has anyone had experience with Creatine contributing to breakthrough seizures?
Thank-you for any input and please try to refrain from saying anything that might freak me out as I am already quite unnerved.
Xoxo

I could use advice about my relationship. Recently I (25F) started seeing a girl (27f). We met through a mutual ex (got cheated on by the same dude) and essentially have been best friends and unseparable since meeting almost a year ago.
I do really love her, I think she is a wonderful person, beautiful inside and out, one of the sweetest people I've ever met. I just don't think I'm falling IN love with her. I was crushing super hard in the beginning of our friendship but I didn't really want to pursue because the situation we came from was fresh, but about a month ago she asked me to start going on dates and stuff and I was SO excited she had feelings for me too.
My thing now is that it feels rushed, even though I was willing to rush too. She is very much a U-Haul lesbian and talking LOTS of BIG plans for our future (she also has a 5 year old son) that I don't necessarily see for myself, let alone so fast. I told her in the beginning I was also nervous about being a large part of her child's life because I've never wanted kids myself, and now that I am spending considerable amounts of time with them I am so tired all of the time. I feel like I'm forcing myself to participate when my mental battery is low, and I know neither me or her want love to feel like a chore. She also talks a lot about how she hopes our mutual ex knows about us, how she wants to vandalize his property (we both already totalled dudes car after we found out) , etc and it makes me feel like a revenge plot a little.
These are just small things I feel already poking at me in the beginning of our relationship. I don't want to repeat my own toxic patterns of letting my feelings build up until I explode. I know I need to talk to her, but I feel I'm going to upset her so much and I don't know how to phrase what I'm even feeling. In my head I'm thinking "if she's too much, go find less" and like I'm an asshole for not seemingly reciprocating the same feelings she has. I want to stay her friend and in her life, I just don't think i can meet her needs as a partner.
Also please don't hate me for how I'm speaking about my feelings, I have extremely bad untreated anxiety and depression due to losing health insurance so my brain chemicals are extra spicy and mean to me, especially about a wonderful girl actually wanting to love me and im trying to let her. I don't know if I'm picking apart something good to self sabotage, or if I'm invalidating my own feelings to not hurt someone else's.

[To view the original post, click here]
If you’re a musician, then you’re a spiritual person.
You may call yourself an atheist…. or an agnostic…. or Frank, whatever you prefer.
But you’re a spiritual person nonetheless.
Because according to the definition that I just made up in my head as I typed this, spirituality is anything that aspires towards the truth.
Now, you may say this isn’t your goal. You may even be openly running away from problems in your own life. You may even believe that life is inherently meaningless or absurd.
But in music, I am certain you are seeking the truth.
Even you, my jaded friends, the very fact that you’re reading this post is because somewhere in you……….the ember of belief still burns.****
(***Just a heads up, if you aren’t resonating at this point, this will be a very uncomfortable read for you…)
“Now Michael, how do you know I’m seeking the truth? You’re just a man I don’t really know very well…”
I know because I feel the exact same way when I make music.
But the moment the recording light on my phone starts blinking (is that a thing?), whatever truth I aspire towards slips through my fingers.***
(****For those not picking up on this vibe, really appreciate you giving it a shot but this Substack is probably just gonna be more of this… so thanks for coming out!)
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The other day, I tried to film a YouTube video.
I was gonna talk about music business news and give my thoughts, and in my head, it was beautiful.
I was funny but serious. Authoritative, but also kinda in on the joke. Post-ironic and good spirited.
Me and Preston (who lived in the podcast studio for a brief period of time to get this label off the ground🫡) set up the cameras and got the set looking nice.
I was going to talk about the Universal Music and TikTok dispute. I had some hot takes I wanted to share, and I was ready to spit some facts.
I figured a series talking about music business would be a cool way to align my interest in business with my passion for music. Our parent company (long live the mothership, Mastering.com ⚔️) has a large following on YouTube, so they offered to help me launch the new series.
Preston (🫡 ) printed the earnings reports and had them on my sick looking executive desk (actually $40 on FB marketplace). I even bought those swinging clackers (or Newton’s cradle for chumps) to make my desk look extra slick.
I turned to Preston, and said “let’s rock and roll” or something like that.
Preston hit RECORD.
I took off at a casual but lively gate. I hit a well timed planned joke early and I was hand-gesturing at a steady clip.
I had prepared what I would say a few times in my head… but pretty quickly I started having a hard time stitching the ideas together.
A stumble, a recovery…….. a joke, a nervous laugh! ….a thought about the nervous laugh, a thought about the thought about the nervous laugh….blank…..blank……. darkness……
And before I knew it, whatever truth I was about to bear down on the world evaporated above me.
After about 5 minutes, like a car steaming from the hood, I pulled the show over to the side of the road and shut her down.
I turned to Preston (🫡) and said “oh my gosh this is boring as sh**”.
I was like Walter Cronkite without the believability, charm, or dashing good looks… I had all the pizzaz of an (unsalted) Saltine cracker.
Anyways it was very bad, and I knew it.
And not in the self-pity way… it just clearly wasn’t my thing. I have an interview podcast which felt pretty natural from Day 1, but for some reason when I’m talking to the camera I couldn’t relax.
I knew it would be very bad for a while until I improved.
Now…. I believed I could get good at it if I just put in the time and the effort. But “being good on camera” was never something I wanted to get good at.
I just wanted to be myself and share (what I hoped) was the truth.
I turned to Preston (🫡 )and I said:
“This was a failure, I must go home now.”
A man of my word, I went home and I told my wife what happened, to which she replied:
“yeah I could’ve told you that you would’ve hated filming a YouTube video.”
She was right. She’s always right. And I mean that sincerely.
--------------------------------------------------------
After the sharp sting of a failure wore off, I re-examined how I could promote Mad Records in a way that aligned my interest in business with my passion for music (my original goal with the YouTube video.)
And that night, I started this Substack.
I talked about the UMG / TikTok dispute, and it felt really natural. I was able to write freely, make edits, take breaks, and strive for the truth. I even got to hang out with my sweet 12-year old Maltese queen, Katie, while I wrote it. What a joy.
(You can check out that post here after you finish this!)
And unlike my crushed YouTube aspirations, my article turned out pretty ok - which was a good enough starting point for me.
SO WHAT’S THE POINT?
If you feel like your “content” isn’t capturing the deep, spiritual truth you’re aspiring for with your music, then you have two options:

1. Give yourself the time to improve. Be patient and expect no results in the meantime. If results happen, then congrats, you’re now good at that thing.
2. Give yourself grace for falling short of your vision, and find a different medium/method that captures it. Nurse your wounds with people who understand what you’re trying to accomplish.

There is always a way to share your creative vision in a way that aligns with your values.
You just have to build up a pain tolerance for failing publicly.
However, for the love of all things holy, please subscribe to this SubStack…. I can’t fail again I have plans this weekend.)
Long Live Mad Records ⚔️

• mike

Taken from: https://www.theringer.com/movies/2024/5/21/24161120/greatest-movie-car-chase-scenes-ranked-furiosa-mad-max-saga
In honor of the imminent ‘Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga,’ we’re shifting into high gear to determine the best chase scene in cinema history
By Miles Surrey May 21, 2024, 6:30am EDTGetty Images/Ringer illustration
After wowing audiences with Mad Max: Fury Road, director George Miller returns to the franchise’s post-apocalyptic wastelands for Furiosa, the epic origin story of the eponymous heroine (now played by Anya Taylor-Joy), premiering on Friday. As the follow-up to one of the greatest action films ever made, it’s hard to overstate the hype for Furiosa, and that was before word got out about a showstopping 15-minute sequence that required nearly 200 stuntpeople and took 78 days to shoot. While Furiosa will have its own distinct flavor, as is true of every Mad Max movie, there’s one thing that unites these projects: intense, jaw-dropping scenes of vehicular mayhem. And what better way to honor the franchise than by celebrating what it does best?
Ahead of Furiosa’s release, we’ve put together our definitive ranking of the best car chases in cinema. There weren’t any strict rules in place, other than capping the list at 20—mostly for my own sanity—and limiting every franchise to one entry. (Apologies to Fury Road’s kickass predecessor The Road Warrior.) We also won’t discriminate against scenes that feature motorbikes, so long as cars (and/or trucks) remain part of the equation. As for what, exactly, constitutes a good car chase? Like list making, it’s bound to be subjective, but I tend to gravitate toward two key elements: the skill of the stuntwork on display and the ways in which a filmmaker conveys the action in relation to the story. (Also, the less CGI, the better.) Buckle up, ’cause we’re not wasting any time shifting into high gear.

20. Quantum of Solace (2008)

There have been some memorable car chases in the James Bond franchise: the first sequence featuring the iconic Aston Martin DB5 in Goldfinger, the corkscrew jump in The Man With the Golden Gun, the Lotus Esprit submarine in The Spy Who Loved Me. But I’m going with a somewhat controversial pick here: Quantum of Solace. There are many issues with Quantum of Solace—namely, it was one of the most high-profile blockbusters affected by the 2007-08 writers strike—but its opening scene isn’t one of them. Picking up right where Casino Royale left off, we find Bond (Daniel Craig) evading henchmen through the narrow roads around Italy’s Lake Garda. The frenetic, furious chase mirrors Bond’s sense of anguish after losing Vesper Lynd (Eva Green), the woman he opened his heart to, and his relentless quest for answers. It’s a thrilling tone-setter for Quantum of Solace and one that doesn’t overstay its welcome, capped off by Bond sending his final pursuers flying off a cliff:
If we’re being honest, though, it feels like James Bond has yet to create a franchise-defining car chase. Perhaps that’s a mission the newest 007, whoever it ends up being, can undertake.

19. Mission: Impossible—Rogue Nation (2015)

The Mission: Impossible franchise is no stranger to electrifying chase scenes, the best of which find Tom Cruise’s Ethan Hunt working up his heart rate. When it comes to action behind the wheel, though, Fallout tends to dominate the discussion—even on this very website. But I think the vehicular chase in Rogue Nation is being slept on. What we have is effectively two sequences for the price of one: The first finds Hunt pursuing Ilsa Faust (Rebecca Ferguson) by car through the narrow streets of Casablanca alongside some nefarious henchmen; the second sees him continue the chase outside the city on motorbike. (Adding to the chaos: Hunt had only just been resuscitated, and he’s clearly not all there.) In terms of death-defying stunts for the audience’s entertainment, a helmetless Cruise taking corners like a MotoGP racer is child’s play compared to his other exploits, but the actor’s authentic reaction to scraping his knee on the road underlines that there’s no one else in Hollywood doing it like him:
We’ll be sure to update this ranking if and when Cruise does something even more dangerous down the road, pun unintended.

18. Vanishing Point (1971)

A movie that counts the likes of Steven Spielberg and Quentin Tarantino among its biggest fans, Vanishing Point is the first of a few entries on this ranking that’s essentially one extended car chase. The film stars Barry Newman as Kowalski, a man tasked with delivering a Dodge Challenger T 440 Magnum from Colorado to California while eluding police across four states. One of Kowalski’s most memorable run-ins comes when a guy driving a Jaguar E-Type convertible challenges him to an impromptu race. Incredibly, we’re expected to believe the man in the Jag comes out of this crash in one piece:
Vanishing Point might not boast the impressive production values of other movies on this list, but considering Tarantino would go on to feature a white Challenger in Death Proof, its influence in the car cinema canon is undeniable.

17. Fast Five (2011)

Let’s face it, Fast & Furious has seen better days. Some believe the franchise’s dip in quality coincided with the death of Paul Walker; others are dismayed by the pivot from street racing to absurd feats of superherodom—emphasis on the Dom. Perhaps it’s a bit of both, but the very best movie in the series, Fast Five, manages to strike the perfect balance: It’s a relatively grounded heist thriller that nevertheless takes the franchise to ridiculous new heights. After Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) and his crew steal $100 million from a Brazilian kingpin, they drag the entire bank vault holding the money through the streets of Rio de Janeiro, all while being pursued by authorities. It’s a delightfully destructive sequence that does untold damage to Rio’s infrastructure and features some of the most bone-crunching crashes committed to film:
If the Fast franchise is going to break out of its recent slump, it would do well to remember that there’s nothing better than letting its heroes live their lives a quarter mile at a time—no detours to outer space required.

16. The Blues Brothers (1980)

A good car chase isn’t reserved just for action flicks: Comedies can get in on the act, too. In The Blues Brothers, starring the recurring Saturday Night Live characters played by John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd, the beloved bandmates must prevent the foreclosure of the orphanage where they were raised by scrounging together $5,000. Naturally, that’s easier said than done: Along the way, the Blues Brothers draw the attention of neo-Nazis, a country-and-western band, and local police. While The Blues Brothers has amusing gags and musical numbers, its chase sequences with the Brothers behind the wheel of a 1974 Dodge Monaco are what really steal the show—and none are better than a climactic pursuit across Chicago. More than 60 old police cars were used in the film, some of which are wrecked in a comically over-the-top pileup:
The sheer scale of The Blues Brothers’ final set piece is commendable in and of itself—as is the movie’s commitment to treating real-life cars like a bunch of Hot Wheels.

15. Baby Driver (2017)

For good and for ill, Edgar Wright’s movies exude an abundance of style, and Baby Driver is no exception. Baby Driver is centered on a clever gimmick: The action works in tandem with its soundtrack because the film’s protagonist, Baby (Ansel Elgort), suffers from tinnitus and constantly plays music to drown out the ringing. When everything’s clicking into place, Baby Driver feels like a supersized series of music videos, and nothing hits quite like its opening sequence. Baby acts as the getaway driver for a bank robbery while listening to the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion’s “Bellbottoms.” The ensuing chase works around rhythms of the song, as if Baby’s Subaru WRX were the star of its own dance number. Take nothing away from the actual driving, either, which puts the rally car to good use:
Baby Driver’s gimmick stretches a little thin by the end, but it’s hard to deny the crowd-pleasing power of Wright’s film when it’s firing on all cylinders.

14. The Raid 2 (2014)

With a trio of kickass Indonesian martial arts films under his belt, Gareth Evans has established himself as one of the most exciting action directors on the planet—someone who seems most in his element staging positively brutal hand-to-hand combat. In The Raid 2, however, Evans also brought his signature brand of carnage to the road. While there’s some cleverly executed close-quarters fighting within the confines of an SUV, courtesy of Iko Uwais’s hard-hitting protagonist, what really cements this sequence’s greatness are the moments when Evans turns the cars into an extension of the characters’ fists:
This belongs in an entirely new category of combat: car fights. There are so many action scenes in The Raid 2 worth writing home about—the kitchen showdown is an all-timer—but the fact that Evans casually tossed in an unforgettable car chase shows why he’s one of one.

13. The Driver (1978)

I’ll say this for Walter Hill’s The Driver: It sure lives up to its title. In this stripped-down thriller—one where none of the characters have a name—we follow the Driver (Ryan O’Neal), a getaway driver who has become a thorn in the side of the LAPD. In the film’s best scene, we see its taciturn protagonist living up to his reputation. With the Driver behind the wheel of a 1974 Ford Galaxie, a cat-and-mouse game unfolds when a handful of police cars are hot on his tail. What I love about this sequence is the pared-down nature of it all: The Driver outwits the cops as much as he outraces them. (Though, ironically, that wasn’t entirely by design: As Hill later explained, an accident on the last night of shooting meant they had to cobble together what had already been filmed.) Frankly, you’d never know the difference from the finished article:
If the general vibes of The Driver seem familiar, that’s because it was a major inspiration for Nicolas Winding Refn’s Drive, which just so happened to feature an unnamed protagonist (Ryan Gosling) evading police through the streets of Los Angeles.

12. The Bourne Supremacy (2004)

The shaky-cam style of the Bourne franchise isn’t for everyone—just ask John Woo—but credit where it’s due: These movies know how to deliver a good chase scene. (A friendly reminder that The Bourne Legacy is an underrated gem with an awesome motorbike sequence to boot.) But there’s one Bourne chase that stands above the rest: the Moscow getaway in The Bourne Supremacy. After being wounded by the Russian assassin Kirill (Karl Urban), Jason Bourne (Matt Damon) hijacks a taxi, with both the police and Kirill in hot pursuit. This isn’t the kind of sequence that lingers on any one shot; instead, what makes it work is the frenetic nature of the editing, which allows the viewer to feel like they’re in Bourne’s fight-or-flight headspace:
If I’m being honest, I’m usually one of those people who doesn’t like the Bourne movies’ shaky-cam style, but when it’s executed with such craftsmanship, you can’t help but get caught up in its adrenaline-pumping power.

11. The Seven-Ups (1973)

Philip D’Antoni was the producer of two movies featuring Hall of Fame car chases, Bullitt and The French Connection, the latter of which won him an Oscar for Best Picture. And with his lone directorial feature, The Seven-Ups, D’Antoni sought to craft an iconic sequence of his own. The film stars Roy Scheider as NYPD detective Buddy Mannuci (elite Italian American name; I can practically smell the gabagool), who commands a unit handling major felony cases that lead to seven-plus-year prison sentences; that’s why they’re known as the Seven-Ups. Midway through the movie, when one of the team members is killed by two shooters who flee the scene, Buddy chases after them. The 10-minute sequence, which starts in the Upper West Side before moving out of the city, is thrillingly immersive, alternating between close-ups of the characters and wider shots of all the damage they’ve caused. But the chase’s defining moment comes right at the end, when Buddy narrowly avoids a grisly death:
The sequence isn’t quite at the level of Bullitt or The French Connection—very few are—but D’Antoni still manages to leave an unmistakable imprint on the car chase canon.

10. Death Proof (2007)

If you ask Quentin Tarantino, Death Proof, his knowingly trashy tribute to exploitation cinema, is the worst movie he’s ever made. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a lot to admire about the film, which honors the unsung heroes of Hollywood: stunt performers. The first half of Death Proof follows three female friends who cross paths with Stuntman Mike (Kurt Russell), a misogynistic serial killer who takes them out in his “death-proof” Chevy Nova. Fourteen months later, a group that includes stuntwoman Zoë Bell, playing herself, also lands on Mike’s radar. As Bell and her friends test out a ’70s Challenger, she performs a “ship’s mast” stunt, clinging onto the hood of the car with fastening belts. Unfortunately, when Mike pursues the women, it puts Bell in a precarious situation. Most of the entries on this list celebrate some next-level driving skills, but Death Proof’s inclusion is all about Bell pulling off one of the wildest stunts you’ll ever see. She’s quite literally hanging on for dear life:
If the Academy handed out Oscars to stunt performers—and let’s hope it does happen one day—Bell would’ve won in a landslide.

9. To Live and Die in L.A. (1985)

William Friedkin was already responsible for an all-time great car chase in The French Connection (more on that later), but the filmmaker made a commendable bid to outdo himself with To Live and Die in L.A. In this neo-noir thriller, Secret Service agent Richard Chance (William L. Petersen) is hell-bent on arresting an expert counterfeiter, Rick Masters (Willem Dafoe), who kills Chance’s partner days before his retirement. To capture Masters, Chance and his new partner, John Vukovich (John Pankow), attempt to steal $50,000 from a jewelry buyer for an undercover operation. The sting goes bad when the buyer, who is later revealed to be an undercover FBI agent, is killed and a group of gunmen goes after Chance and Vukovich. It’s a clever inversion of the usual car chase formula—this time, it’s the lawmen running away from the criminals. The outside-the-box thinking extends to the film’s most astonishing stretch, in which Chance evades the gunmen by driving into oncoming traffic:
The fact that Friedkin shot the chase at the end of filming—in case anything disastrous happened to the actors—underscores just how risky the endeavor was. The pulse-pounding results speak for themselves.

8. The Matrix Reloaded (2003)

The Matrix sequels have never been held in high esteem, but I’m ready to live my truth: The Matrix Reloaded fucking rules. (If anyone’s got a problem with this take, file your complaints with the Architect.) What’s more, the film happens to boast the finest action set piece of the franchise: the highway chase. After Morpheus (Laurence Fishburne) and Trinity (Carrie-Anne Moss) free the Keymaker (Randall Duk Kim), a program capable of creating shortcuts within the Matrix, they’re pursued by the Twins (Neil and Adrian Rayment). Morpheus once warned that going on the freeway was “suicide,” and it doesn’t take long to see why: The chase draws the attention of several Agents, who repeatedly take over the bodies of other drivers on the road. The scene is the best of both worlds: There’s some incredible stuntwork on display, including when Moss weaves around on a Ducati, and CGI augments some feats of superhuman strength. But the most jaw-dropping aspect of the sequence is how it came together, as the production spent $2.5 million to construct its own highway (!) on California’s Alameda Island. If that weren’t unique enough, I’m pretty sure Reloaded is also the only movie in existence in which a katana takes out an SUV:
The Matrix remains the Wachowskis’ masterpiece, but don’t get it twisted: The filmmakers were still cooking with gas in the sequel.

7. Gone in 60 Seconds (1974)

Size isn’t everything, but for H. B. Halicki, who produced, wrote, directed, and starred in Gone in 60 Seconds, it’s certainly part of the package. The indie action flick follows Maindrian Pace (Halicki), a Los Angeles insurance investigator who has a lucrative side hustle jacking high-end cars. The plot kicks into motion when a South American drug lord enlists Pace to nab 48 cars within five days in exchange for $400,000. Of course, Gone in 60 Seconds is best known for what happens after Pace is caught stealing a 1973 Ford Mustang Mach 1, when he leads police on a chase that lasts a whopping 40 minutes. (More than 90 cars were destroyed in the process.) Halicki, for his part, did all the driving himself, including a spectacular jump off a makeshift ramp of crashed cars:
While Halicki wound up making a few more indies after Gone in 60 Seconds, he died in an accident on the set of its sequel. His legacy as a do-it-all daredevil, however, lives on.

6. Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991)

Long before James Cameron immersed himself in the world of Pandora, he was a pioneer of state-of-the-art visual effects. Case in point: Terminator 2: Judgment Day is credited for having the first CGI character in a blockbuster, the T-1000 (Robert Patrick), a killing machine composed of a futuristic liquid metal. But Cameron also understood that the CGI of that era shouldn’t be the main attraction: It worked best as a complement to the practical effects, as seen in Judgment Day’s epic viaduct chase. When the T-1000 tracks down a young John Connor (Edward Furlong) in a shopping mall, he’s saved at the last minute by the Terminator (Arnold Schwarzenegger), giving John a chance to escape on his dirt bike. As the T-1000 gives chase, the David and Goliath vibes between man and machine are further epitomized by the T-1000’s commandeering of a truck. The sequence already has a terrifying sense of urgency, but it hits another level when the T-1000 crashes through the viaduct like the Kool-Aid Man:
Big Jim is still revolutionizing what can be achieved with visual effects in the Avatar franchise, and while I cherish those movies, nothing beats his old-school showmanship.

5. Duel (1971)

The feature-length debut of Steven Spielberg—perhaps you’ve heard of him—the TV movie Duel is essentially one extended chase sequence between salesman David Mann (Dennis Weaver) and a sinister trucker determined to drive him off the road. I’ve attached a clip from the ending of the film, but that doesn’t do Duel justice. What cements this movie’s greatness is how it sustains an unbearable level of tension across its 90-minute running time—with a budget under $500,000, no less. Spielberg’s masterstroke is never once showing us the other driver, anthropomorphizing the truck itself as a monster. (You can see a lot of similarities with how he would build suspense in Jaws.) When Mann finally gets the upper hand, tricking his adversary into driving off a cliff, it feels like you can breathe again:
Spielberg would move on to bigger and better things after Duel, but considering how much the director accomplished with so little, you can’t help but wonder what else he could conjure up with limited resources.

4. Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)

Like Duel, Fury Road is basically one long car chase—the difference is Miller got to work with a blockbuster budget, and made every cent of it count. It’s hard to pick a single standout sequence in Fury Road, but if I had to choose, I’d go with the first attack on the War Rig after Furiosa (Charlize Theron) flees with the wives of Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne). Here’s why: Think back to when you saw Fury Road for the first time, before you fully grasped the vehicular carnage that was in store. And then stuff like this kept happening:
To quote Steven Soderbergh’s thoughts on Fury Road: “I don’t understand how they’re not still shooting that film and I don’t understand how hundreds of people aren’t dead.” Whether or not Miller manages to one-up the action in Furiosa, the director is already in the pantheon.

3. The French Connection (1971)

We return to the Friedkin-verse for what may be his best film, The French Connection, the crime thriller based on Robin Moore’s 1969 nonfiction book of the same name. The story concerns two NYPD detectives, Jimmy “Popeye” Doyle (Gene Hackman) and Buddy “Cloudy” Russo (Roy Scheider), and their tireless pursuit of a French heroin smuggler. But while there’s plenty to admire about how The French Connection illustrates the thin line between police and criminals, its greatest claim to fame is its car chase. After Popeye narrowly survives a sniper attack, he goes after the shooter, who escapes on an elevated train. The ensuing sequence is true daredevil filmmaking that Friedkin shot without permits, leading to real crashes with New Yorkers that made the final cut. But Friedkin’s finest touch was mounting a camera to the front of the car, making the audience feel like they’re part of the action:
My Ringer colleague Justin Sayles believes The French Connection’s chase should’ve landed at no. 1, and I’m sure many folks will agree with him. Being the only film on this list to win Best Picture, however, is a solid consolation prize.

2. Bullitt (1968)

When it comes to modern car chases, all roads lead back to Bullitt. A Dad Cinema classic, the film stars Steve McQueen as Frank Bullitt, a San Francisco detective who pursues a group of mobsters after a key witness is killed in protective custody. In his search for answers, Bullitt realizes he’s being tailed by a couple of hitmen, and then turns the tables on them. From there, the chase is on. Aside from McQueen doing most of his own stunts behind the wheel of a Ford Mustang GT 390 Fastback, what’s so impressive about the sequence is how timeless it is. Even the little imperfections, like hubcaps repeatedly coming off the wheels, work to the film’s advantage, stressing just how much these drivers are living on a razor’s edge. It’s been more than 50 years since Bullitt revolutionized the car chase, and yet few movies since have felt like they’re pushing the envelope to such an exhilarating degree:
That the car driven by McQueen was recently sold at auction for $3.74 million, a then-record price for a Mustang, underlines Bullitt’s enduring legacy.

1. Ronin (1998)

“If I’m going to do a car chase,” filmmaker John Frankenheimer said in an interview with the American Society of Cinematographers, “I’m going to do a car chase that’s going to make somebody think about whether or not they want to do another one!” Boy, did he ever. In Frankenheimer’s late-career masterpiece, Ronin, the director actually incorporated several chases, but it’s the climactic sequence that stands alone as the greatest ever filmed. The movie concerns an international group of mercenaries who are hired to steal a mysterious briefcase; a series of double-crosses and double-bluffs ensue. But for the final chase, all you need to know is that Sam (Robert De Niro), a mercenary with ties to the CIA, is in pursuit of Deirdre (Natascha McElhone), an IRA operative in possession of the case. Winding through the streets and tunnels of Paris, what’s most striking is just how fluid it all feels. You’re completely engrossed in the chase’s forward momentum, captured from every conceivable angle; a symphony of controlled chaos. The driving styles even reflect the characters: Deirdre is reckless and impulsive, while Sam remains calm and controlled.
There are many worthy car chases in this ranking, but in my view, Ronin takes pole position. And while I can’t imagine a movie ever topping what Frankenheimer achieved, I’d love nothing more than to be proved wrong.

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.

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.

Hi, long time lurker but idek how to process things right now haha. For some background, I (23 f) definitely have some issues around food. I’m second gen asian american, and my dad came here as a refugee when he was a teenager. He has a lot of trauma about not having enough to eat, very stereotypical walk in pantry, hoarding food, loving deals on food, extreme couponing, etc. He passed on a lot of that to me. I adore fine dining but I also love garbage food or street food. I carry around leftovers and shamelessly wrap things up in napkins and throw them in my purse. I have bags of almonds in my car and stashes of food at all my friends houses. Food is my love language, I love cooking it for my friends, being cooked for, etc.
So two nights ago, my best friend and I took my roommate out to a very expensive steakhouse for his birthday. I don’t have a lot of money but I’m doing okay, I’ve been saving up to take him out for a while because he’s done a lot for me. It was definitely a big treat for us to go though. Since I don’t eat much at once, I had a lot of leftovers (plus the bones my friends didn’t finish so I could chew on them later which I know is weird but let me be happy okay?) I gave my boyfriend the lobster mac but saved the steak for sandwiches for the next couple days.
Yesterday, my bf was having a really bad day. He woke up late for work, had to rush out the door. He was supposed to work just the morning shift but his coworker asked him if he’d cover her night shift since she was hungover, and she’d bring him food. She didn’t, and he was upset. He went from 9 am to 11 pm without eating. Obviously I’m upset too, I offer to doordash him something, I would’ve brought him food but I was working on set. I get worried about him because he doesn’t eat sometimes, and because he was having a bad day he was already super withdrawn. He told me he’d make pasta when he got home.
I guess you see where this is going, he ate my steak, I was absolutely devastated. His reasoning was that he had brought me food from set the previous day but in my mind it’s nowhere close. I know I shouldn’t have but I blew up at him, cried a lot, etc. He offered to take me to another steak house but it’s not about the steak it’s about how I build up this food in my head and think about it several times a day looking forward to eating it and then it’s not there. I told him that and he told me I should bring that up with my therapist. Is my relationship with food is unhealthy? I’ve had issues before where people touch my food without asking so I’m wondering if it’s me. I feel guilty for yelling at him and then running out the door and crying in my car. AITA?

I’m 27 (f) and I have 3 children, all school aged. I’m currently doubled up w my parents and I want to move out and get my own house. I have under $1k in savings, and I work part time at a restaurant bringing in about $1600 monthly. I currently just graduated a phlebotomy course in hopes to be a full time phlebotomist, and making double what I am now.
My credit score is 600 and I have roughly $8k in debt (~3.5k in credit card debt from almost 3 years ago when I was irresponsible, ~5.5k in auto loan debt for the car I got in 2020 that I’m still paying $265 monthly , originally for 15k).
I am going to lose my housing in October.. my parents are giving me the boot, and I live in the North Eastern part of MA.
What should I do first to help me get to getting a house or at least a condo? I don’t want to rent if I can avoid it, it’s astronomical how high the rent is for a 2 bedroom. Should I pay off the debt first? Should I start saving hard and worry about debt later? The credit card debt is closed, so it will not accrue any more interest, and I did just open up another credit card to help with my credit. I will be using it strictly for gas and my phone bill. I do have a chime credit building card and have been doing awesome with it.
What should I do? I just want to know what is the best next step given my situation.
Okay, I can’t buy a house. However, what can I do now to have better credit and be able to ONE DAY get a house? I was thinking of a mobile home to start.

I’m 27 (f) and I have 3 children, all school aged. I’m currently doubled up w my parents and I want to move out and get my own house. I have under $1k in savings, and I work part time at a restaurant. I currently just graduated a phlebotomy course in hopes to be a full time phlebotomist, and making double what I am now.
My credit score is 600 and I have roughly $8k in debt (~3.5k in credit card debt from almost 3 years ago when I was irresponsible, ~5.5k in auto loan debt for the car I got in 2020, originally for 15k).
I am going to lose my housing in October.. my parents are giving me the boot, and I live in the North Eastern part of MA.
What should I do first to help me get to getting a house or at least a condo? I don’t want to rent if I can avoid it, it’s astronomical how high the rent is for a 2 bedroom. Should I pay off the debt first? Should I start saving hard and worry about debt later? The credit card debt is closed, so it will not accrue any more interest, and I did just open up another credit card to help with my credit. I will be using it strictly for gas and my phone bill. I do have a chime credit building card and have been doing awesome with it.
What should I do?

TLDR: Dad died, car loan is hefty, zero dollars in estate, trying to decide if I should let the bank/dealership reposes the car, or find a way to negotiate with them to keep the car for a lower amount than what the car loan was for.
Here's the longer version:
My dad passed away recently and without going into too much detail there is zero dollars in his estate. A few months ago he bought a used car at a dealership which he financed through the dealership and I believe he paid more for the car than it was worth so I am fairly confident that I cannot sell the car for the amount of the loan. I believe the dealership ripped him off for about $4-6k because he was old and didn't know any better.
My mom was the beneficiary of my dad's estate and executor of his will but she lives in long term care and is not capable of acting on his behalf and lawyer advised us that her power of attorney cannot take on the role of executor of the will (also parents are also legally separated and she was not involved in any of his finances so she is not responsible for the car loan even thought one could argue that the car is hers). There is a backup executor of the will but he is not in the picture either, although we might be able to drag him into it kicking and screaming if we needed to.
Bascially, a lawyer has advised us that the car and the loan is not our problem as he basically didn't have a valid will and there is no money in the estate. She said to leave it where it is and walk away and let the dealership or the bank or whoever do what they have to do to deal with it once the payments start bouncing.
The problem is that I just can't stomach doing that. My dad LOVED cars and his car was his prized possession. He was always in it driving around town and when he got this new one he took a bunch of pictures of it and wanted to come visit me to show me his new car but I told him not to because it was winter and I didn't want him driving on the wintery roads (boy do I regret that now). I also happen to be driving a rusty old car with constant problems. Now that dad is gone I have to drive 6 hours away to go visit my mom once or twice a month so that she is not all alone. I need a new car and would talk to my dad often about my car woes. I just don't have the headspace to go car shopping while I'm grieving and dealing with the fallout from his death, taking over my mom's care, dealing with my own health problems, etc.
So basically my question: Is it possible to negotiate with the dealership or the bank to get possession of my dad's car for a lesser amount than the value of the loan? If the loan is $26k and the car is only really worth $18-20k, can I offer a lower amount to settle the loan and take over ownership of the car? Note that the alternative is that the car sits abandoned in the parking lot of his apartment building until it eventually gets towed, repossessed and probably auctioned off.
The point is I have a lot of practical and sentimental reasons not to just abandon the car, but I have no idea how to go about getting possession of it without 'buying it' from my mom and paying off the loan, but it's just not a good purchase and I'd be paying several thousand dollars more than it's worth, which I can't really afford. Would love some advice on this messy situation.

Hey all!
So the premise here is that a young couple are moving in together for the first time, and it's a brief look at their first evening and morning together. I've written it as a girlfriend as this is actually based on real events, but the listener can be anyone. Girlfriend can also be changed to boyfriend if preferable :)
Fine to monetize, just give me credit and link back here :) also, if anyone wants to fill this, awesome!!!
There is a mix of internal and external monologue here. Hope I've kept that clear in the text but, if not, please let me know!
Girlfriend
(knocking on the door)
Hello! Is anyone here? Oh, hi! Sorry I’m a bit late. Took ages to load up the car. Hmm? Sorry, I know you have other clients! Yeah, of course, I’m sure they’re on the way.
(internal, sarcastically)
Well, this estate agent seems lovely. Is she actually going to let me in?
(spoken)
Are we okay to wait inside? I think it’s going to rain. Thankyou…
(internal)
I still can’t believe we’re doing this! I hope I haven’t brought too much stuff. They said they’re barely bringing anything! Oh, this place looks a little dusty! Floor’s a bit messy! I’ll have to give it a clean. God, I hope they don’t lose patience with me. Their room at home always seems so tidy, but I know their mum is a bit of a clean freak too.
(spoken)
Sorry? Yeah, this is our first place together. We’ve been going out for three years and I just got a new job, so we figured why not? Renting for now, but hoping to buy a place in a year or two.
(internal)
If they don’t run a mile after living with me for a few weeks. I’m okay to live with, right? My housemates didn’t have an issue at [insert Uni or college, depending on location]. Oh god, what if…
(spoken)
Sorry, I’m here now. Oh yeah, I remember I really liked this kitchen! New oven, cool! Tell the landlord thanks! Yeah, I may as well start signing everything whilst we wait. I’m really sure they won’t be much longer.

The sound of knocking.

Girlfriend
(spoken)
Oh, that’ll be them now! Come up! We’re just in the kitchen. Hey!
(internal)
Ah man, I still get jittery when they smile at me like that! I still can’t believe we’re doing this. I know we spend all our weekends and most evenings together but it is going to be different, actually living together. We need to get a joint account set up, we’re going to need to go shopping ASAP – there’s literally nothing in! The internet people better turn up tomorrow! I’ve only got [speaker to insert their favourite show] boxsets for us to watch and I’m not sure that’s their thing…
(spoken)
Sorry, I was miles away. So we both sign here? Oh, rules? Okay?
(internal)
Gosh, do they think we’re going to be throwing mad parties every week? We’re not kids! Security deposit? We know this already! Ah, I shouldn’t be so harsh. She’s just doing her job. But does she have to act like we’re planning on burning the place down? Oh, one year’s tenancy? No early release? Eeesh, what if they don’t want to stay… oh wow, they signed really quickly!
(spoken)
Thankyou. I don’t think I have any questions. Do you?
(internal)
There’s that smile again. They look so excited! I hope they’re not as nervous as me. Oh, she’s leaving. Good.
(spoken)
Well, here we are. Just the two of us now. No… second thoughts? No, of course not! All my stuff’s outside, is yours? Shall we get it all in first and then think about where everything is going to go? Oh, your dad’s given us that TV? Fantastic! Think my laptop might be about to die!

Around half an hour later…

Girlfriend
(spoken, sounds out of breath)
Okay! Big pile of stuff. Least we got it in.
(internal)
How do they only have like three suitcases? I couldn’t even fit everything in my car!
(spoken)
I knew I shouldn’t have brought so many books! No idea where we’re going to put them. And the bathroom really is small! I know we said we didn’t mind, but…

Sound of a kiss.

Girlfriend
(spoken)
I love you too. Sorry, I’m overthinking things again. How are you feeling? I know! Still can’t quite believe we have our own place. We really needed it. I swear my dad was deliberately being annoying half the time. Always banging around downstairs! Shush, I’m not just like him! He’ll be okay. He’s got mum. I guess it must be weird with all your kids gone.
(internal)
Dad was so great about everything. Maybe I should have let him come help us move in, but I kind of wanted this to just be us.
(spoken)
Yeah, let’s take a proper look around.
(internal)
I need to chill. This place is really nice, especially for the price. I love the living room. Still can’t believe the sofa and chairs came with the flat. The sofa looks so comfortable. I can’t wait for us to snuggle up on there. They even left a little reading lamp in the corner! I hope they don’t mind if I want to just read some nights. They didn’t really seem to before, but now it’s just us all the time…
Ahhh, I wish the bathroom was bigger! The shower’s a bit ancient. I dunno if we’d both fit in… shit, now they can see me blushing, great! Let’s move out of here quickly!
Really good cupboard space for a small bedroom. I’ve got so many clothes though. I may need to use some of their space as well! Dad was right. I should have had a clear out before I came.
(spoken, laughing)
Don’t jump on the bed like that! Because it’s all tidy! Yeah, I know nobody’s coming round today, but… I am chilled! Wait, what? Okay, fine, I’ll try it out. Yeah, it is very comfy.
(internal)
They smell so good today. I love it when they wear this. I don’t even know what it is. Guess I’ll be seeing it in the bathroom, so I know what to get them for their birthday.

Sound of kissing.

Girlfriend
(spoken)
Are you happy we’ve done this?
(internal)
It’s weird how right this feels. I know it’s just the two of us here now, and I don’t feel nervous. This is just so cool.
(spoken)
What? Let you show me? How… oh….

Sound of kissing and giggling.

Girlfriend
(spoken)
Hey you. We have a lot of unpacking to… oh, you’re so mean.

More kissing.

Girlfriend
(internal)
I love it when they stroke my hair like this. Okay, pinning my hands above my head. That’s… new. Kinda like it though. It is so good that nobody can possibly disturb us. We can literally do anything we want to! Okay, my cheeks feel like they’re on fire. Typical.
(spoken)
Okay, we can, ohhh…
(internal)
I could get used to this.

The next morning…

Girlfriend
(internal)
What time is it? Must be getting late, it’s so bright in here. We need better curtains! This bed is so comfy though. I must have fallen asleep so quickly last night. Urgh, I’m so groggy in the morning. Wait, where are they? Can I hear noises in the kitchen? And what’s that smell? Oh, they must be cooking something. Bless them. I’m still so full from last night. It was so awesome to just have the night together in our own place! They’re getting better at cooking. I’ll need to make us something tonight.
I better get up soon. It’s just so warm in here. Ah, I need the bathroom. I still feel a bit awkward about that, but they’re so lovely about it. I’ll just sneak in now…
(spoken)
Oh hey! I thought you were in the kitchen. Oh, what you carrying? Wow, breakfast in bed! Thanks!

Sound of eating.

Girlfriend
(spoken)
Oh man, this is so good! When did you become a Michelin Chef? Your mum usually cooks for us!
(internal)
How do they look so awesome even though they’ve just woke up? I bet I look a right mess. Ah, there’s that smile again.
(spoken)
What? Haha, pull the other one. If there’s one thing I look like now, it isn’t beautiful. Have you seen my hair? Looks like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards. Okay, now you’re just teasing me! I guess I better get dressed in a sec. How long you been up? An hour? You’ve been trying to build the TV stand? How’s that gone? Oh…
(internal)
Bless them. They really aren’t very good at DIY. Good thing the landlord should take care of any repairs we need. My bookshelf should arrive today. Might be better to get Dad to come help us with that. If they’re not offended.
(spoken)
Okay, I am full! That was awesome though, thankyou! I’ll cook tonight. Unless you wanted to try that takeaway we saw round the corner… haha, you really know me so well.

Sound of kissing.

Girlfriend
(spoken)
Okay, I’ll jump in the shower then I’ll come and help you! There’s something I wanted to give you as well. I meant to last night but by the time we got everything unpacked I forgot! It’s in my bag, hold on, I’ll get it.
(internal)
They’re so cute. I can see them checking me out. Don’t know what’s so hot about these pyjamas. They’re like three years old and literally have super-heroes on them. Oh god, why did I wear… no, I can’t keep overthinking this stuff. Not if we’re going to live together.
(spoken)
Here it is! I got it custom made. Open it.

Sound of ripping paper.

Girlfriend
(spoken)
It’s that picture I took of you and Bounce a few years back. Remember, for one of our first dates you took me for a walk in the forest with her? We almost lost her when she tried to chase after a bird? I know you’re going to miss her living here, so I thought you’d like a picture of her. I’d say she could come round any time, but I don’t think we’re allowed pets.
(internal)
Ah man, I hope this is okay. They really love that dog and I know it was hard on them to leave them.
(spoken)
You love it? Of course, you’re welcome! I love you too.

Sound of kissing.

Girlfriend
(spoken)
You know I over think everything and I’m a little, well, full-on sometimes, but I just want you to know I’m so happy we’ve done this. I can’t wait for, well, everything! You mean the world to me, and I’m so happy you want to live with me.
(pause, then spoken)
Here’s to the next forever!

Howdy I am not selling nor promoting anything simply stating to give comfort that someone is doing something nor will I share any thing on here about where to find said nonprofits and what not then I’m about to mention
Having my career taken away from me and disability insurance. Will live a nice stress-free life. I get three days into accepting I build scaffolding in the carpenters union and no job site. Will let anyone with cataplexy be able to be just out of liability alone
So I know we’ll be the poster boy for my nonprofit of narcolepsy awareness and hope to create multiple others such as research and help people through the process of testing and after due to not working and maybe still having a family like myself did thru this.
As well as appeal company that donates percentage of profits back and be the only place that I make money because everything else. Will go as it should, and I will be different in the sense of a nonprofit and show where all the money goes without being asked, just simply presented on the platforms of my nonprofit page and how much we’ve invested into.
The only thing I will here is my term for us if you guys like it cause I do plural is narcalites
As well as I do believe being on amphetamines and or methylphenidate hydrochloride such as ADHD meds caused narcolepsy and many others
There should be more restrictions put on for kids not to be on and I feel can be proven already For restrictions. In the matter of a dopamine deficiency, considering the only study I can find which was provided to me by a doctor because they have access to more. 1 year on 2 years off to take dopamine to get back to the same level you are ignorant to think that this isn’t messing with kids, brain chemistry, and Greatly can give us an answer on the Unknown. And at the end of the day, they’re creating drug addict considering it’s already titled highly addictive and they restrictions put in place allow people like myself to be on 60 mg a day as a fifth grader without any say.
Simply look at when this medication came out and the increase in narcolepsy diagnosis from those kids growing into adults. It’s a huge peak as well as just keeps getting bigger every year. Hmmmmmmmm wonder y why And how is it a dumb carpenter figured this out.
I’ll tell you, I am not against the medication I think if properly put out there such as 18 years old and minimum of 15 years old anything other than that extreme cases and I mean extreme such as narcolepsy in a child not ADHD. A hugely ADD. Myself obviously yes it will be hard. However, I wish I learned to cope with them at 18. Decide for myself if I wanted to help. I need the help. For a while I was accused of being a drug addict till I found out actually it’s narcolepsy that’s why I needed more or it wasn’t because it not being treated properly now I’m proper treatment. I’m sorry but I just can’t ask why. Not a yes man. Never have been never will.
And reason for me being poster boy is because you tell me a better one than a division one wrestler winning multiple state titles throughout the childhood working double shifts in the carpenters union all the time out of sheer will power and adrenaline. to when finding out pregnant really feeling the first actual stress of my life that stress not bad to have it comes with life although causing my narcolepsy to be so so bad
And I know you guys can understand the statement of it’s very hard to tell going through life if something happened in a dream or didn’t or just déjà vu well I’ve learned not to just go with and I’m not insaneb I’m a vivid dream Think about that with normal sleep to distress, causing me to only sleep in and out without medication for longest period of time a month and a half able to stay up for four hours so yes I do believe awareness needs to be out there, especially when it’s the last thing on the list they test for at least causing two years of hell
And if I have done anything wrong in this post I do not want to change any of what it is about but the creators of this platform please when blocking my post from being seen inform me what to change. Because I feel I’m doing nothing but good for us the narcalites And only bettering us as a whole because I fear for the next case like mine to give up or the ones that I’ve already have and maybe ended up dead from her car wreck or resulted to drugs, I refused