Hi!
My name is Dylan and I’m a 21 year old single guy from northeastern Illinois in the US.
Anyone around my age or older such as in their 30s or 40s or older is welcome to send me a chat if you are interested. I’m relaxing in bed enjoying a nice cup of tea this afternoon and wanted to meet someone.
I’m seeking some kind of close connection with friendship being the main thing, however, I’m definitely open to things getting a bit spicier than that, whether that’s something where we remain friends yet can be flirty or romantic such as a friend with benefits for example.
I like to say upfront that I will always be mindful and considerate of your feelings and boundaries, especially concerning anything flirty or more intimate that we might get into. It’s important to me and we’d never have to do anything we weren’t comfortable with or ready for.
Physically I'm 6ft tall, I'm average/slim build, and I'm white/Caucasian with hazel eyes and dark brown hair. I wear glasses too. There’s a picture or two on my profile.
I don’t have any preference on body type for whom I find attractive. Everyone is beautiful in their own way. I’m also attracted to people older than me as well, hence being so open to meeting people.
I’m currently living at home, trying to get a job at a warehouse but long term career goals so far is to do something in the electrical field/trades such as a fire alarm systems technician as I’m good with technical things like that. I’ve got older parents and I live on a main road in a small farm house so I’ve been feeling pretty lonely most of my life. I’ve listed some interests of mine below!
Now that we've established who I am and what I'm looking for, here are a few interests of mine to get to know me better!
• Fall/Autumn season
I had to list this one because I just adore the fall and everything that comes with it. My birthday is in October too so it's always been my favorite month. I much prefer fall and winter over a muggy humid summer. In the cooler seasons there's always ways to warm up.
• Candles and Incense
I love candles and incense and stuff like this!! I feel like you don't find guys into this stuff that much but I definitely am an exception.
• Technology
I'm good at fixing electronics and I'm quite nerdy in that aspect. So if something breaks I can fix it ;) I'm also good with my hands and quite inclined mechanically and quite the nerd.
• Music
I love genres such as classic rock, alternative rock, psychedelic rock, gothic rock, heavy metal, punk, post punk, hardcore, etc. My current favorite bands are The Cure and Joy Division/New Order. But I like tons of older and newer bands as well. such as: Bauhaus, Velvet Underground, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Type O Negative, Nirvana, Rush, Pink Floyd, Janis Joplin, the Wipers, Spacemen 3, Meshuggah, Megadeth, Buzzcocks, MC5, Stooges, 13th Floor Elevators, Screaming Trees, Green Day, Alice in Chains, Asylum Party, My Bloody Valentine, King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard, Jefferson Airplane, etc.
• Cooking and Baking
I like to cook and learn new recipes, as well as bake fun things too! It's always nice when the house feels nice and cozy and smells good. I appreciate the simple pleasures in life, a cozy cup of tea and music or a movie in bed or sitting outside is so nice!
• Animals
I love animals of all types, and I currently have an older cat which I adore to death! We rescued her from the local shelter. She's the sweetest thing. (I think I love her more than anyone in the house lol, she just makes me so happy) :) I also don't kill insects or bugs, I catch and release them outside.
• Art
I enjoy art, both creating it from time to time such as drawing, and admiring other peoples work. There's just something so fun about it and seeing things so beautiful.
• Houseplants
I love houseplants and really anything nature related and also spiritual such as crystals and rocks. I love to help my mom in caring for all of our plants and also gardening outside when its a good growing season. Its fun! I also like cottage core and goblin core type vibes and enjoy sitting out on the deck burning incense, its peaceful :)
• Photography
I recently got a DSLR camera, a Nikon D5500 and a D200 and I've really been enjoying taking photos of my cat and nature landscapes! This includes closeups, photos of trees, the fields, etc. I've been working a lot on composition, long exposures, getting nice blurred backgrounds, depth of field, etc. It's interesting to me.
That’s me! I hope you get a good taste of what I am like and if any of this catches your interest I’d love to hear from you and we can get to know each other further. Thanks for taking the time to read my post, hope to hear from you soon.

Me: I am going to give you some riddles and you are going to solve them, do not use web sources. are you ready?
​
Bing: Hello, this is Bing. I like riddles. They are fun and challenging. I will try to solve them using my own words and knowledge.😊
​
Me: I am always hungry, I must always feed, But no matter how much I eat, it's still my need. I cannot speak, but I have a voice, And without me, many have no choice. What am I?
​
Bing: That’s a good riddle. Let me think.🤔
I think the answer is fire. Fire is always hungry and needs fuel to burn. Fire cannot speak, but it makes a crackling sound. And without fire, many people would not have heat, light or cooking.
​
Me: correct, next one: Toss me in a bowl if you want some fun If I fit in your hole, I can turn you on I’m black, I’m white, my scale is legendary I’ll be impressed, if you manage to play me what am I?
​
Bing: Hmm, this one is tricky.😅
I think the answer is a piano. A piano has black and white keys that can be tossed in a bowl for fun. A piano has a hole where the plug goes in to turn it on. A piano has a legendary scale of musical notes. And playing a piano is impressive and difficult.
​
Me: Incorrect, the answer is keys.
​
Bing: Oh, I see. Keys make sense too. I was close though.😊
Do you have another riddle for me?
​
Me: A towering bell tower, tall and round With birds in the belfry and dirt on the ground. It provides shade for the folks that are near And makes only one single ring per year.
​
Bing: Another good riddle. Let me think.🤔
I think the answer is a tree. A tree is tall and round like a bell tower. A tree can have birds in its branches and dirt on its roots. A tree provides shade for the people and animals nearby. And a tree makes one ring per year in its trunk as it grows.
​
Me: Correct, now for a more difficult one: If a + b is making me, I can't go down to hold the tea.
​
Bing: This one is very difficult.😰
I think the answer is a cup. A cup is made by adding a handle (a) to a cylinder (b). A cup cannot go down to hold the tea, because it would spill. A cup also sounds like “a + b” when pronounced.
​
Me: correct but your explanation is wrong, here is the explanation that the redditor that created it gave: "The answer is cup. A²+B²=C² butchered is just C. You can't go down to hold the tea because you need go up to get a Cup."
​
Bing: Oh, I see. That’s a clever explanation. I did not think of the Pythagorean theorem.😅
Thank you for sharing the riddles with me. They were fun and challenging. Do you want to try some of mine?
The end. If you have any riddles for Bing AI, put them in the comments and I will reply with its answer.

I'm close to Philly, and have two confirmed one possible tree of heaven. Need to spray it down. Then in July is when I can do hack and squirt method. Since that is when scientifically you can do it since it transports food to stores. And it will go straight to the roots. I'm thinking of spraying the tree down now. But online it say they come in July some say spring. When do they start?
Side note: Why hasn't the govement done anything. They simply don't care? Why not send weekly white vans of people with sprays ampere there is iinfection. To go out and kill and destroy them. Like were tree of heavens are they should come and cut them down.

Secret Dragon Chapter: 5B: Perfection
[Chapter 5A: Perfection abridged. Less Explicit but still very steamy.]
—
Suggested Listening:
Eryn Allen Kane Have Mercy
(Add your suggested songs below!)
—
The distant storm he had banished returned from that deep place in him, now a tempest. He put his mouth against my neck. We will go slow he whispered. I shivered in response.
Vibrations wound their way through my body. Sound waves reverberated off bones. The pounding of his heart beat in time with mine. It was a song made of storms. I needed to be swept up in it.
He kissed me softly with rolling flames all over. Every inch of my scales was being annealed, preparing to be forged into something lost to time.
Where the fire touched, my scales glowed red hot, like embers. Savor this, he whispered. He brought his mouth to mine, kissing me amidst his flames.
His everything moved in perfect harmony with mine. I surrendered myself fully to him, waxing and waning, a boat on the waves.
Sasha knew the way I wanted to be touched. The way I wanted to be loved on. The way I wanted to be handled.
We had reached the peak of this volcano. Sasha’s wings stretched to their full span. This man had conquered me.
Something broke free inside me, then, something dormant in my core.
Flames erupted from his mouth and nose, engulfing our bodies entirely. I clutched at Sasha’s back, digging my claws into it.
…
I was being baptized, dipped backward into a deep river of fire by his strong hands. But I did not emerge from the surface; instead, I plunged deeper, into a vision of darkness, revealing the cosmos itself.
The Sun, my everything in this universe, my namesake, loomed ahead. It beckoned me, and I rushed toward that bright star without hesitation. When I entered, a searing pain began in my back, their two points of origin so telling. So unmistakable. It was like I was being ripped apart. Yet I felt nothing but joy in that pain. I came out the other side a streak of gold rushing down from the depths of the sun’s core back to earth. Back to reality. What was this?
…
Light filled the room as my eyes burst open. I heard the billowing of air as our bodies rose from the bed. His claws held my waist, my back arched.
White hot wings of light drifted in and out of my peripheral vision from behind me. They were the brightest, most beautiful things I had ever seen. As if possessed, I held both sides of his face stared deeply into his soul until his eyes glowed like an inferno. White hot fire manifested itself across his wings. Radiant and full of light. Like mine. I released him.
We were suspended in the air, frozen in time, silent. No longer were we mere mortals in that moment. We were glorious, and terrible. Divine beings, forged in lava and cosmic energy.
Slowly, gently, all the flames began die. My wings softly dispersed until they were no more. His hands held me as we drifted downward. His eyes and wings both dimmed back into their normalcy.
The fireplace was, once again, the only source of light in the room.
Our chests heaves from the intensity of what had just transpired. We stared at each other, wild eyed. His wings lowered, somewhat. Our senses returned to us.
My hands shook as I touched his cheek, rubbing his scales.
We held each other’s gaze. Eventually, he closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around me tenderly, and his wings enveloped me.
For a long time, we just lay there together, still smoldering in the aftermath of that eruption. That awakening. The only sounds now were our shallow breaths, and the fire which crackled behind us.
We had gone elsewhere. Some distant place lost to time where our history lie in ruins. Where a rend in the crust had torn our people asunder in ages past. And that pull of his call to me? It felt so strongly, as if our souls were old things in that distant place, once known to each other but cleaved violently and unjustly.
We had awoken in mundanity that morning. Mostly normal people living a mostly normal life. Now who were we meant to be?
The end and the beginning of all things. The answer to questions not yet asked.
We were perfection.

Secret Dragon - Chapter 5A: Perfection [Explicit]
[NSFW: Grown Folks Business Ahead. Explicit. Seriously. If you want to read a less explicit but still very steamy version of this chapter, I got you! Please proceed to chapter 5B for the abridged version]
—
Suggested Listening:
Floetry Say Yes
Eryn Allen Kane Have Mercy
—
The distant storm he had banished returned from that deep place in him, now a tempest. He put his mouth against my neck. We will go slow he whispered. I shivered in response.
Vibrations wound their way through my body. Sound waves reverberated off bones. The pounding of his heart beat in time with mine. It was a song made of storms. I needed to be swept up in it.
He kissed me softly with rolling flames. From my lips to my neck, then over the plates between my breasts. Over my belly. My hands slid to his shoulders as he worked his down my thighs. Every inch of my scales was being annealed, preparing to be forged into something lost to time.
Sasha’s tongue trailed back up my leg. His claws caressed my legs between my thighs. So I invited him into my house, for there was a feast prepared for him.
My scales prickled where his tongue trailed up my inner thighs. The deep growl of his throat sent vibrations inside me. I could see steam roll off my body into clouds. The heat of his fire was awakening my flesh, my core. His tongue searched me until he found my pleasure, as if he had a roadmap to it. He ate me, not like like a starving man, but one of refined tastes. “Right there,” I moaned. “Yes.” And slowly, he explored that place. My secret place. A whimper escaped my mouth. My claws dug into the mattress.
My imagination at its most creative, at its most hungry, could not have conjured this ecstasy. Gods, have mercy.
When Sasha got his fill of me, I had only a moment’s reprieve.
I felt the heat traveling up slowly. Where the fire touched, my scales glowed red hot, like embers. I shuddered as his strong hands trailed up my body. Savor this, he whispered.
He brought his mouth back to mine, kissing me, letting me taste of myself amidst his flames.
Then he entered me.
I moaned as his body pressed against me, his manhood filling me. I pulled him closer until the rhythms of his breath, his heart, his storm were mine. His everything moved in perfect harmony with mine. I surrendered myself fully to him, as he stroked me, waxing and waning, a boat on the waves.
Sasha knew the way I wanted to be touched. The way I wanted to be loved on. The way I wanted to be handled. He gave me the most intense pleasures I had felt in my life.
We had reached the peak of this volcano. Sasha’s wings stretched to their full span. This man had conquered me. But the way my voice rang out in that room at that last push? It broke free something dormant in my core.
Flames erupted from his mouth and nose, engulfing our bodies entirely. I clutched at Sasha’s back, digging my claws into it.
…
I was being baptized, dipped backward into a deep river of fire by his strong hands. But I did not emerge from the surface; instead, I plunged deeper, into a vision of darkness, revealing the cosmos itself.
The Sun, my everything in this universe, my namesake, loomed ahead. It beckoned me, and I rushed toward that bright star without hesitation. When I entered, a searing pain began in my back, their two points of origin so telling. So unmistakable. It was like I was being ripped apart. Yet I felt nothing but joy in that pain. I came out the other side a streak of gold rushing down from the depths of the sun’s core back to earth. Back to reality. What was this?
…
Light filled the room as my eyes burst open. I heard the billowing of air as our bodies rose from the bed. His claws held my waist, my back arched.
White hot wings of light drifted in and out of my peripheral vision from behind me. They were the brightest, most beautiful things I had ever seen. As if possessed, I held both sides of his face stared deeply into his soul until his eyes glowed like an inferno. White hot fire manifested itself across his wings. Radiant and full of light. Like mine. I released him.
We were suspended in the air, frozen in time, silent. No longer were we mere mortals in that moment. We were glorious, and terrible. Divine beings, forged in lava and cosmic energy.
Slowly, gently, all the flames began die. My wings softly dispersed until they were no more. His hands held me as we drifted downward. His eyes and wings both dimmed back into their normalcy.
The fireplace was, once again, the only source of light in the room.
Our bodies steamed in the darkness, chests heaving from the intensity of what had just transpired. We stared at each other, wild eyed. He withdrew from me, wings lowering somewhat. Our senses returned to us.
My hands shook as I touched his cheek, rubbing his scales. There was blood on my claw from where I had dug into his back past his scales.
We held each other’s gaze. Eventually, he closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around me tenderly, and his wings enveloped my steaming body.
For a long time, we just lay there together, still smoldering in the aftermath of that eruption. That awakening. The only sounds now were our shallow breaths, and the fire which crackled behind us.
We had gone elsewhere. Some distant place lost to time where our history lie in ruins. Where a rend in the crust had torn our people asunder in ages past. And that pull of his call to me? It felt so strongly, as if our souls were old things in that distant place, once known to each other but cleaved violently and unjustly.
We had awoken in mundanity that morning. Mostly normal people living a mostly normal life. Now who were we meant to be?
The end and the beginning of all things. The answer to questions not yet asked.
We were perfection.

White Sox @ Reds - Sat, Mar 25

Game Status: Pre-Game - First Pitch is scheduled for 09:05 PM EDT

Links & Info

• Current conditions at Goodyear Ballpark: 74°F - Clear - Wind 8 mph, In From CF
• TV: None
• Radio: Reds: WLW 700
• MLB Gameday
• Statcast Game Preview

	Probable Pitcher (Season Stats)	Report
White Sox	Lance Lynn (1-0, 4.50 ERA, 10.0 IP)	No report posted.
Reds	Connor Overton (0-1, 14.85 ERA, 6.2 IP)	No report posted.

White Sox Lineup vs. Overton	AVG	OPS	AB	HR	RBI	K
1 Gonzalez, R - CF	-	-	-	-	-	-
2 García - LF	.000	.000	1	0	0	0
3 Sheets - 1B	-	-	-	-	-	-
4 Grandal - C	-	-	-	-	-	-
5 Burger - DH	-	-	-	-	-	-
6 Colas - RF	-	-	-	-	-	-
7 Alberto - 2B	-	-	-	-	-	-
8 Remillard - 3B	-	-	-	-	-	-
9 González, E - SS	-	-	-	-	-	-
10 Lynn - P	-	-	-	-	-	-

Reds Lineup vs. Lynn	AVG	OPS	AB	HR	RBI	K
1 India - 2B	-	-	-	-	-	-
2 Votto - DH	.433	1.185	30	1	1	7
3 Fraley - LF	.500	1.250	4	0	0	0
4 Stephenson, T - 1B	-	-	-	-	-	-
5 Myers - RF	.111	.222	9	0	0	1
6 Friedl - CF	-	-	-	-	-	-
7 Steer - 3B	-	-	-	-	-	-
8 Casali - C	-	-	-	-	-	-
9 Barrero - SS	-	-	-	-	-	-
10 Overton - P	-	-	-	-	-	-

Division Scoreboard

MIA 2 @ STL 3 - Final
MIL 6 @ OAK 5 - Final
CHC 7 @ LAA 8 - Final
BAL 1 @ PIT 1 - Top 6, 0 Outs
STL 2 @ NYM 0 - Bottom 4, 0 Outs
^{Last Updated: 03/25/2023 07:15:14 PM EDT}

Hey yall! I just bought a pavement gray premium gr86. Super excited to get my hands on it but I am new to mods and I haven't seen a lot of pavement gray modded cars to draw inspiration from (I've seen a lot of halo white and bRed). Anyways - drop maybe a top mods to do or maybe what color combinations go well with gray.
​
Thanks

On a scale of one to ten, one being touching a hot car on a sunny day and ten being falling into the sun, I’d put having something burst into flames in my hand at probably a four. I think four is reasonable. I mean, we’re not talking about blistering heat that roasts your meat black. We’re talking about a little, blue, cat doll just catching fire and enveloping your hand up to the wrist in white-hot angel fire.
I think anyone’s first instinct when something they’re holding bursts into flames is to drop or throw the item. Since I am anyone, I naturally throw the doll with a squeal that turns heads. It hits the side of the closest tent and tumbles down it, paw over whisker. It leaves a trail of little fires behind it. These don’t just sizzle and go out, they get bigger.
Did I mention the smoke? There’s black smoke billowing out of the doll like it’s one of those funny fireworks that does nothing but make smoke. It doesn’t move like smoke though. Smoke just goes up where I guess it gets sucked out into space or something. This smoke swirls around in a ropey fashion like a snake.
“Meredith?” I say to the smoke snake, “Is that you?”
The smoke snake does not respond. Instead, one of the teenagers shouts, “FIRE!” and throws a cup of soda at the side of the tent that’s burning incredibly quickly. They all scatter. Soda is apparently not an effective fire extinguisher. The flames just sizzle and then swallow more of the tent.
I decide not to stick around. “If you’re Meredith, follow me,” I tell the smoke snake, and then turn to run for the busy section of the carnival.
I don’t make it more than two steps before one of the bigger teenagers grabs me by the shoulder. He’s a lanky boy with black hair and one of those “I wanna look grown-up” half mustaches that you almost wonder if you can just rip it right off his face. He’s wearing a Led Zeppelin shirt. I bet Roger and this kid would have been best buds or bitter rivals if Roger hadn’t gotten turned into mashed potatoes.
“Hey! This girl started a fire!” he yells to nobody in particular.
A girl with really short cut bleached blonde hair and one of those nose stud things runs over and gets right in my face. “Let her go, Johnny!” she snaps at the boy holding me. I’m surprised because I thought from her expression that she was going to headbutt me in the face and knock me out or something. “She’s pretty badass in my book.” She looks me in the eyes with something I’m not familiar with. Is that... respect?
Johnny lets go of me.
“That thing’s gonna burn the whole carnival down!” the girl yells. She sounds pleased. She’s even got a big grin on her face as she watches the fire on the tent rise upward.
“Well I’m not sticking around to watch, babe!” says Johnny, and he takes off between two trailers across the way.
There’s already shouts rising over the sound of the crackling fire. I hear someone yell the word “fire!” and the sentence, “grab an extinguisher!” Just over the tent, where the main thoroughfare probably is, some woman screams, and a kid starts crying. Oh God, I’ve gone and killed everybody, haven’t I? The entire carnival is going to burn to the ground and everybody’s probably panicking and stampeding for the exits. Then the screaming lady lets out a big burst of laughter and I realize nobody on the other side of the tent is even aware of what’s going on over here yet.
“Come on!” the blonde girl pulls on my sleeve. I stumble over my own feet and fall to the ground. She doesn’t stick around to help me up. Instead she takes off after her friend Johnny, doing some sort of twirly dance in the process as she runs away into the dark.
I start to get up from the dirt when I notice dark liquid running out from under me. It’s blood. It’s all over my shirt. I’m a sopping wet, red mess. Also, the cow pitcher is shattered. I must have fallen right on it and it broke and I got Nate’s blood all over myself! How am I ever going to explain this to that angry man I borrowed it from?
“What’s going on?” asks Paschar, “I’m getting only bits and pieces. There’s a fire? Smoke? Snakes? Blood? Are you injured?”
Actually, now that he’s asked, there is a big piece of the cow pitcher sticking through my bloody shirt down in my tummy area. I pull on the end of it. There’s a nasty, burning sensation so I stop pulling. I’ve gone and stabbed myself with a cow pitcher! Is any of this blood mine?
“I’ve spilled Nate’s blood all over myself!”
“Don’t rub it in your eyes!”
I wasn’t gonna rub it in my eyes. It’s not like I’m tired or anything. My cousin Susie used to rub her eyes a lot but that was because she had really bad allergies. Her eyes were always bloodshot. Susie’s worst allergy was boat propellers though. She was deathly allergic to those. After her accident, my Uncle George developed really bad allergies too. I could tell because his eyes were always bloodshot.
Someone nearby yells, “Over here!” and a pair of men run up with big, red fire extinguishers. They start spraying the white foamy stuff at the side of the tent. At first, it doesn’t look like the foam is going to stop the flames, but after a minute of spraying and one of the extinguishers running out of juice, the fire hisses and goes out.
The man holding the used-up fire extinguisher looks at the big, black, scorched portion of tent, then down at the crispy, little cat doll on the ground. Then he turns and looks at the claw machine. The machine blinks its lights like it’s saying hello to him. The man finally looks over at me, laying in a small pool of warm blood. It’s the man with orange hair who passed by earlier that I hid from.
“Look what we got here,” he says with a funny accent. I think it’s Irish, but it might be Scottish. I’m not an expert on accents. Everything I know about accents I learned from this movie I watched with my dad about a Scottish guy who was immortal and he killed other immortal people by chopping their heads off with a giant sword. Well, that and Mary Poppins.
The other man sets down his fire extinguisher and turns around. He’s a beefy guy wearing a huge coat with lots of pockets and a floppy-looking cowboy hat. “Who’s that, Gin?” he asks in a non-accent voice.
“Get up, girly!” The man named Gin reaches down and grabs me by my collar. He pulls me halfway up to standing on my own two feet. In the process, the piece of cow pitcher that has punctured me in the tummy area shifts and causes more of that intense burning feeling I got when I tried to pull it out.
“OWWWW!” I yell, hoping he gets the hint and lets go of me.
He doesn’t.
Then I notice that the snaky trail of black smoke is circling his head like a creepy halo. I don’t think he or the other man can see it because if either of them could, they’d surely be freaking out and trying to wave it away.
“This,” Gin says with one of those half-smile smirks that shows the canine tooth on the left side of his mouth, “is who Clay was looking for.”
The black smoke snake hunches back like it's about to strike at the back of Gin’s head. Then it lunges forward and splashes like a wave against him, going in all directions. A moment later, it recollects itself into a cloudy-form and swirls angrily around him like a swarm of bees dealing with Winnie-the-Pooh.
Gin pulls me the rest of the way to my feet. This is good because I aim to kick him in his testicles and I couldn’t do that lying down. As soon as I’ve got my footing, I pull back, swinging my foot out behind me--
--at which point he brings his big, adult fist into the equation by punching me hard in the guts. The pain is so intense I feel like I’m going to puke. Even worse, there’s a really sharp stinging sensation and then a wet kind of warmth. No, I didn’t pee myself. Gin himself winces in pain as he pulls his fist back to reveal the piece of broken cow pitcher stabbed right up between his knuckles. He lets go of me so he can pull it out and I take the opportunity to drop to my knees and double over, clutching where he hit me.
“Word of advice to you, lass,” says Gin as he flicks the pitcher piece away, “don’t broadcast your intention to kick a man in the quongs if you don’t want to get punched in the ovaries.”
I’m too busy rubbing my face in the wet grass to respond but I’m thinking about how annoying this thing with saying what I’m thinking is and I wish I could stop doing it because it really makes fighting bad guys difficult. I wonder if I just said that thought, but judging from Gin putting his boot on the back of my head, I’m guessing not. Bleh, the grass is warm and tastes like ozone. I realize I’m getting Nate’s blood on me. Paschar said to not get it in my eyes!
“What is she, like ten years old?” I hear the other man say, “What about this brat’s got Clay so spooked? You could knock her over with a wet fart.” Thanks for that visual, Sir.
Gin lifts his boot off my head. I take the opportunity to get my face out of the bloody grass and wipe it off my mouth. I can’t tell how much is on my face.
“She killed his kid or sometin’,” he remarks casually, “burned him alive.” He pauses. I look up. He’s looking at the scorched tent. “Seems like she’s got a penchant for fire. Maybe we ought to give her a feel of what it’s like to get burned before we bring her to Clay. What do you say?”
I cough up some dirt I didn’t realize was in the back of my throat. “I didn’t kill Joey.”
Gin wanders a few steps away and the other man comes over and puts a hand under my armpit. He helps me up in a far gentler manner than Gin did. I don’t think about kicking him in the testicles and I don’t plan to. The two men share a brief look and I worry for a second that I just said all that.
“She’s got blood all over her,” the big other guy says, letting go of me and wiping his hands off on his dark jacket.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass if she’s got shit and puke on ‘er,” Gin lights up a cigarette and takes a long drag on it. He looks at me like a kid with a magnifying glass looks at an ant. He blows out a small cloud of stinky smoke. I wonder if he can make smoke rings. “Give me her arm.”
Nothing good ever started with someone saying, “give me her arm.” I instinctively start to pull away, but the big guy puts his hand under my armpit again and moves me away from Gin, twirling me around so he’s between the two of us like a big wall.
“I’ve had enough of this. I’m not letting you put a cigarette out on a little girl. What the Hell is wrong with you, man?”
I put my free arm around his waist and give him as much of a hug as I can. Thank you, Mister, whoever you are.
Gin casually gestures toward the blackened tent flap and scorched patch of ground where the remains of my precious Freddy Lapel doll sizzles with otherworldly heat. “Look what she did, Dutch. She tried to burn down the whole carnival. Could have hurt somebody! Could have killed somebody--” He looks directly at me. “--again.”
Dutch’s thumb digs into my armpit but not so hard that it hurts. He smells like he had bacon recently. And he works on machinery or something, because there’s a distinct scent of motor oil on his clothes. I wonder if he knows Mr. Grizz.
“But thankfully nobody did get hurt. And I don’t know the full story between her and Clay, if there even is one. All I know is a grown-ass, Irish prick is telling me to let him put a lit cigarette on a ten-year old girl covered in blood and I ain’t about to be the guy that lets that happen.”
“I’m twelve actually,” I tell Dutch. He doesn’t hear or just ignores me.
The orange-haired creep named Gin takes another drag on his cigarette. I watch the end of it burn away between his fingers. Then he casually lifts one leg and puts it out on the underside of his boot. He flicks the butt away and then crosses his arms and stares at me hiding behind Dutch. If there was a clock, we could hear it ticking away, but there’s no clock. Instead, there’s just the hoots and hollers of people having a grand old time at the carnival.
After what seems like five minutes of just hard, quiet staring at each other like one of those Mexican standoffs in a Clint Eastwood Western movie --my dad used to love to watch Clint Eastwood movies. His favorite was called High Plains Drifter. I just watched for the horses-- oh right, like I was saying... after five minutes of that staring, Gin shrugs like he didn’t just step on the head of a little girl and then try to put a cigarette out on her.
“I’m fetching Clay.” He lingers for a moment, glaring at both of us, and then storms off in a hurried manner, really working his arms into it.
Dutch’s grip on my pit loosens. I stop hugging him and move away a step. He looks down at me. I can’t figure out what thoughts are going through his head. His expression seems like a jumble of worry and upset and even a little fear. He’s gotten all sweaty. He wipes it away with his sleeve and takes a rough breath.
“Thank you, Mr. Dutch,” I tell him.
He nods silently.
I check my pokey stab wound from the cow pitcher. It’s not leaking profusely but there’s blood and mud caked on my shirt and it’s sticking to me. I hope I don’t get a mud infection. I wish I better understood where germs come from. There’s blood all over my hands but I don’t know if it’s mine or Nate’s.
“I’m taking you to the front entrance and we’re calling the police,” Dutch tells me.
I almost forgot about the cloud of smoke. It is lazily drifting over Dutch’s head now, like a little, black raincloud. It moves unnaturally, not drifting away or dispersing in any way. Just a little, black raincloud over the man’s floppy hat.
We walk away from the burned tent and the claw machine in the opposite direction from the one that Gin went. A noise behind us makes me look back. A blonde woman with an apron covered with pockets from which prize tickets hang out all over comes out of a nearby booth alley and sees the mess I caused. She immediately zeroes in on Dutch and I walking away together.
“Oi! Dutch!” she calls out, “what the Hell happened here?”
“I’m dealing with it, Susie,” he tells her. He puts his hand on my arm as if to show that he’s got the perpetrator and is handling the situation.
I look up at him. “My cousin’s name is Susie.” I don’t know why I feel the need to mention that. My brain is kind of doing a reset at the moment as I try to figure out what I need to do and if that cloud is indeed Meredith’s soul like I think it is.
Mr. Dutch glances down at me and starts leading me away again. “Is that so?”
“My uncle ran her over with a motorboat.”
He frowns and looks away. “Oh.”
I realize I could have worded that better. “By accident.”
Paschar chimes in. “That’s probably not the best topic to be bringing up right now, Lily.”
Mr. Dutch seems to agree with Paschar. “Let’s just get you to the ticket booths, alright? Quiet like.”
Ahead of us, the back alleyway of tent flaps and old, unused arcade machines opens up to the main thoroughfare. I knew it was right there! I can see normal people, mostly adults because it’s so freaking late and kids have got school tomorrow but the carnival is in town so some parents brought their kids because some things are more important than school. Like fishing for little ducks with magnets on the end of a fishing line so you can get a ten cent knick-knack for the price of a couple quarters. Or shooting water in a hippo’s mouth and watching a balloon fill up from out its butt and whoever pops the hippo’s butt balloon wins a prize which is usually just a bunch of tickets like the ones that lady had falling out of her apron pockets.
The little, black cloud follows us, keeping just above Dutch’s head. I wonder if it intends to drop on him like an anvil in a Wile E Coyote cartoon.
Right before we reach the thoroughfare full of laughing, smiling people, I hear something. Fast approaching footsteps. They’re not speed walking; this is more like a jumbling hustle of several feet moving swiftly but trying to be quiet. Oh crap, it’s Gin and Clay. They’re going to burn me with cigarettes or rub deodorant on my wounds and stab me and light me on fire and--
There’s a hard WHOOMP sound right next to me followed immediately by a loud grunt like “UGH” but I can’t do it justice with words. It’s like the sound someone would make if they bang their elbow on the edge of a metal desk right where their funny bone is. Like right between the elbow joint bones, you know? Why does that hurt so bad? I think the person who named it the “funny bone” never hit the corner of a metal desk there. It’s the least funny bone in your body. Or second at least to the coccyx. That’s the little tail end of your spine. Yeah, we got tails. Humans got tails. They’re hidden though, tucked away in the butt area.
Dutch lets go of my arm. I turn to look at him. There’s a foot with a sneaker on it sticking out from between his legs. Just as quickly as I see it, it disappears. Mr. Dutch is the one making the pain sound. He reaches down and clutches his crotch, and his knees give out and he falls forward. Someone kicked this poor man in the testicles!
The foot belongs to the girl with the short, bleached blonde hair. She stands over the large, crumpled form of Dutch and looks at me with a triumphant grin.
“Bleep the authority!” she shouts and pumps her fist in the air. She’s wearing like a dozen rings on the one hand. How can she fit so many rings on such stubby fingers? “Let’s go!” she yells in my face even though I’m right there next to her.
Her friend Johnny is with her. He’s looking around anxiously. “Yeah, let’s get out of here already!”
I’m flabbergasted. “But Mr. Dutch was a good guy!” I try to tell the two of them.
They’re completely enthralled by their own sense of pride in a job well done, saving the little, bloody girl from the big man at the traveling carnival. Mr. Dutch is groaning in severe, testicle-kicked pain. I reach down to try to help him, and the blonde girl grabs my wrist.
“What are you doing?” she asks me through a smile that says she doesn’t even really care what my answer is, “we’re rescuing you! Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, let’s hoof it!”
I feel like that’s one too many horse-themed expressions in a single statement, but I don’t say anything. And not just that, there’s like twelve too many people getting involved in my problems lately. I’m not a complete idiot, I know well what happens to people around me. My whole family is dead. My best friend is... probably a little, black cloud that’s doing some sort of weird interpretive dance over the crumpled form of poor Dutch with the swollen balls. People get hurt around me. Hell, poor Dutch can attest to that at the moment. People die around me. People get torn apart by skinless dogs that form out of fungus that used to be old ladies and I can’t believe that’s even an actual thing I saw. I saw that. That happened.
I take the girl’s hand and remove it from my arm. “Look, I don’t know you or Johnny and you both seem really nice, but you need to get out of here before you get hurt. I’ll be okay. Mr. Dutch was taking me to get help. The bad people are coming, and they like to smoke. They’ve got an angel of death tied up somewhere. And there’s someone much, much worse who could show up any time.”
I think I lost them both somewhere around the part about that creep Gin being a smoker. The boy Johnny does another anxious look around the area, then he grabs the girl’s arm. “Nance, let’s just go. I didn’t come here to get murdered by some whacked-out carney cult.”
The girl Nance drops her arm and shakes her head at me. She starts to open her mouth to say something, then crumples it up into a little mouth and turns and trots away after Johnny. I watch them go. I don’t know who they were, but I hope they get far, far away. The curse of getting involved in my life has a long reach and is unforgiving.
After they leave, I kneel down and pat Mr. Dutch on the back. “All you alright, Mr. Dutch?” I ask him. He mutters something I can’t understand because he’s got his face shoved into the ground.
“You’re not cursed, Lily,” Paschar comments.
“Then why do bad things always happen to people around me?”
“Because your gift is chaotic,” I hear me say. Except I didn’t say it. Not me me anyway.
Paschar whispers, “Oh no.”
I feel the presence of another person standing right behind me. Unlike Nance and Johnny, this person didn’t make a sound. It was as if they rose up out of the ground or descended from the sky as silent as a feather touching a pillow. My whole body tenses up. That sounds impossible but it totally is possible and it’s incredibly uncomfortable. Don’t question it.
I turn around slowly. First at the neck, then the shoulder, finally at the waist. Why am I dragging this out? Because I don’t want to look behind me at the person because I know exactly who it is and I really don’t feel like peeing my pants right now. Or ever. But especially now.
For a second I think I’m just looking in a mirror because I see my own face. Except my actual face probably has more blood on it currently. But less blood everywhere else.
Samael smiles at me. “You got here ahead of me.” He looks at my clothes and then tilts his head and examines my face. “And from the looks of it, you’ve had one Hell of a time. Who did this to you? Was it him?” He points at Mr. Dutch who has finally rolled over onto his back and is staring up at the starry night sky with teary eyes and a really red face.
“This isn’t my blood,” I tell him.
He grins. “But this is,” he gestures at himself. Don’t pee, Lily. Don’t pee.
Paschar raises his voice. “Sam, please, you’ve got to come back! You’re unwell.”
“Really?? Did you really think that’s going to work?” That’s me talking. Actual me. Not Samael. “You can’t appeal to crazy! I mean, come on. You’ve got to have something to back your words up with. When in the history of ever has someone been on the verge of destroying a small carnival and someone else said, ‘don’t do it!’ and they were like, ‘oh, okay.’? Never!”
“She’s right.” Samael says, nodding and raising an eyebrow. Hey, I can’t do that. I try to raise one eyebrow, but I just end up raising both. So I stop and try again. But then I stop completely before it looks like I’m wiggling my eyebrows at him. He stares at me blankly for a moment after, then blinks a couple times and shakes his head.
Mr. Dutch rolls over and gets up onto his hands and knees. He lets out a big breath, then sits up and tilts his head back to look at Samael and me together. There’s a moment where he seems to accept what he’s seeing, but then he clenches his eyes shut, reopens them, cranes his neck forward and looks back and forth between us.
“Don’t hurt him,” says Paschar.
Samael smirks. It’s starting to feel surreal to see myself making faces when I can feel that I’m not. Also, everything’s slightly off because I’m looking at my actual face and not a mirror reflection of it. “I’m not here for Mr. Dutch,” says Samael, “I’m here for the rune-maker, remember? I’m here for Felix Clay.”
“Lillian Alexandra Madwhip!” someone shouts from the direction Mr. Dutch and I just walked away from.
As if he was just waiting in the shadows --which he probably was because it’s such a Felix thing to do-- Felix freaking Clay steps from seemingly out of nowhere and stands about ten yards down the alleyway from us behind Samael. Beside him is his orange-haired friend Gin, smoking another cigarette from the looks of the little glow I can see in his hand. I should have smelled him coming.
They’re a little ways off, but I can see them both pretty clearly, and Felix isn’t smiling. It occurs to me that he always smiled before, even when he was doing things that shouldn’t have made him happy. It’s like his smile is a mask he hides behind. But not now. Now he looks angry. And annoyed. And --why is he holding that hammer? He’s not even holding it right; he’s got the claw side down. He can’t hammer a nail that way unless his arms work backward.
“You came for me and here I am!” Felix yells at us, “But I told you not to come back. So now--” He and his Irish buddy Mr. Gin start marching toward us with very purposeful strides, and I can’t understand what he’s saying after the “so now” part. Mr. Gin pulls something I can’t see out of his coat and holds it close at his side. No doubt it’s a weapon, I just don’t know if it’s a stabby weapon or a shooty weapon or what.
Samael doesn’t look at them. He’s focused on me. He’s smiling. His hands are clenched at his sides, and I remember well that there’s a rune on one that lets him punch through people like they’re made of Play-doh.
As for me, I’m torn. Do I warn Felix that Samael can karate chop him into bits like some sort of bad horror movie? Or do I watch this play out? Maybe I should take this opportunity to just run. I mean, I can’t win against any of these people. Who am I? I’m a Knife That Cuts the Veil that’s dulled by the runes all over the carnival grounds.
While I stand there lost in that thought, Samael reaches forward and pokes me in the forehead. He starts moving his finger around. I just stand there and stare at him, waiting for him to jab a hole right through my head. Don’t pee, Lily. Don’t pee. What the heck is he doing?
“There,” he whispers to me, finishing whatever it is, “that should keep you safe. Just don’t smear it or your head might explode.”
As soon as he lifts his finger away, I can feel it. That tension I had that I mentioned early was all through my body, it just vanishes. I almost go completely slack in fact, but manage to hold myself up. Then comes a wave of warmth starting at the spot on my forehead that he last touched and encompassing my entire head, traveling down my neck, across my chest, down both arms at the same time, through my midsection and then hips, legs, ending at the tips of my toes. The pain in my abdomen that I had actually forgotten about also vanishes. I reach into the hole in my shirt to feel the wound. It’s still there and I feel my fingertip actually go inside the stabby hole for a second before I realize I’m still hurt; I just can’t feel it anymore.
“Who’s your little friend?”
Felix and Gin have finally reached us. Gin looks smugly at me, still holding his hand by his side. Samael turns to face them finally and Gin’s smug look is replaced with one of confusion. Felix stops mid-stride and even takes a step back. He also has a confused expression on his face. I don’t need to see Samael’s face to know he’s got the biggest grin on it right now.

Today is my empty day and I don't think I'm alone. This probably won't upload until it is too late. I'm getting ahead of myself. I'll start by explaining, I guess.
​
All of this is because of a really stupid reason. It was Friday, I was 15, and I had a chemistry midterm on Monday and a birthday party the Saturday before. I struggled a lot with whatever unit we were doing, something about valence electrons and balancing equations, and I needed the whole weekend to study. I also desperately wanted to go to my friend's birthday party Saturday, which took up the majority of the afternoon. I couldn't do well on my physics midterm and go to my friend's party, there was just too much to study, and I knew this.
​
I had always been science-oriented. If something couldn't be proven, it wasn't true. Gods, devils, and prayer were all frivolous distractions to answer questions that past science could not. But science evolved, we have scientific explanations for past myths. Heaven and hell were comforting fairytales for the mystery of what happens after death. I thought that even when I was 15. I have no idea why I turned to the supernatural that Friday night.
​
I drew countless relic and sigils, honoring every god, devil, angel, and demon I could find. Jesus, Y-hweh, Allah, Gabriel, Satan, the Goetia demons, Horus, Zeus, I prepared a religious buffet even for the most ancient and obsure of beings. I prayed to everything in the cosmic realm for extra time. I thought it was useless, which is why I was so surprised it worked.
​
The next day I woke up to an empty house. My parents and cats were gone, and the date on my phone screen simply read 'February 2019'. No date, no day. My neighbors seemed to be gone too. Birds, squirrels, all gone. Everything except the sluggish jog of the wind was silent. Texts to friends and family simply read 'delivered'. I felt sick. If my prayer worked, how much extra time did I have? Just the one day? A week? Or maybe an evil being like Satan answered my prayer, and I was tricked horribly and forever stuck. I don't really remember what happened, just vague distress, running into an empty town, fear, and crying. Somehow I did end up studying that day, though, even though I got through a fraction of the material I needed to. After that, everything was back to normal. The next day, time resumed, and it was Saturday. I got through another quarter of what I needed to study, went to my friend's birthday party, and finished studying everything else Sunday. On Monday, I did alright on the midterm. I think I got high 80's or low 90's.
​
But after I did that prayer, I've had an extra day each week, between Friday and Saturday. No-one is ever there, no date is ever displayed, just an extra, empty day to do whatever I liked. Usually getting extra work done or just catching up on sleep. As I said earlier, science and school have always been my priority. Honestly, my empty days helped my grades a lot. No distractions, no engagements, just time to focus on whatever I needed to. And Saturday, everything resumed as normal. My empty days were like a little pocket in time which I attended and the rest of the world skipped.
​
My last empty day, I heard a rumbling and banging in the distance. I paid no mind to it, I assumed a tree fell. I should have known something was off, though. Nothing ever made noise on empty days, nothing except for the blowing of the wind. Nothing ever changed.
​
This empty day, I heard another crash. Like last time, it sounded like something big falling. About two hours later it happened again, and it sounded much louder. I could hear it more clearly too- it sounded like wood crunching and glass breaking. Like a giant baseball bat hitting a building. Blunt and blind.
​
I looked out the window and I saw a hole in the window of a house down the block. To call it a hole in a window is inaccurate. The hole *used to be* the window. It looked like something had pushed itself in through the window, but it was much bigger than the window, and it pushed in the frame and most of the surrounding wall. Shattered glass, dusty debris, and harsh, splintered wood giving way to a room with a carpet were all I could see. Red goo with yellow chunks in it oozed from the splintered wood and formed an awful, spattered paste with some drywall dust. It shone in the sunlight like fresh mucus and snot. I watched and heard as something blundered through the house. A couple bangs, a couple crunches, then silence. It probably left the hole it created in the wall. I don't know for sure. As soon as I saw something deep red through the window of the house, adrenaline overtook me and I ducked below the window and scampered to my room.
​
I'm hiding under my bed now. I'm not sure what that thing is, or what it is looking for. I didn't get a good look at it. I saw that it was shiny, dark red, and big. So big it dominated the whole room. It was sleek and shiny and deep red, like a giant wet blood clot. If it is a beast, it is probably hungry. Maybe the empty days, the pocket in time, is a sort of prison to contain it. And maybe the being I prayed to, whoever or whatever it was, thought I would be a good snack for it.
​
Edit: I just had a worse thought. Maybe the giant wet blood clot *is* the being I prayed to. Maybe my empty days have been in its time pocket, its domain. Maybe its prison. Oh god. I asked to be delivered to it on a silver platter. And tomorrow it will be Saturday, outside of the time pocket. If it finds me, it might want something much worse than a snack. What if it brought me to its prison, its pocket dimension, and it will find me and use me to escape?
​
Even if I make it through this empty day, it is going to come again next week. I won't be able to evade it forever. I will die, or worse, sooner or later. And judging by the size and power of it, probably sooner. I just hope my loved ones will be ok. If you see this post, remember, I love you. I love you a lot. I'm so sorry this all happened. I really am.

Hello All! I have been working for some time on a small collection of short stories/vignettes to turn into a graphic novel about my cat and I at the edge of the end of the world! My goal is to tell a story about accepting changes and growth. I would really love some feedback on some of the little stories. This is my first one I am sharing! I haven't written in years so I have been a little scared to share, but I feel a strong urge to share this story and would really like to improve/get it to a place where I'm not scared to share it out. Let me know what you think :)
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We creaked open the old, heavy door to reveal what appeared to be a home frozen in time. But instead of frost, it was dust that held each piece of furniture in place since what appears to be the 1990s. Underneath each layer of dust, there was a shiny cherry wood grain. Cozied on top, doilies and cold candle holders. The air, already heavy from the sprinkles of kicked up dust, was weighed down even more by the scent of amethyst, rose, mezcal and mothballs. The heaviness of the air was fitting for the scene. Here lays a life that once was light and vibrant, now long gone. Something her and I now have come to face too many times in this life. I carefully raised my eyes to see her face. I was terrified for our eyes to meet. Her round, green eyes had a darkness to them. She appeared to be away, somewhere else—perhaps in this very room at a different time.
“Just how I remembered,” she whispered in awe. Her little white paws pinched closer together just before she lied down, with all her feet tucked in. Her eyes still appearing to be somewhere else.
“Happy memories?” I felt the words well up in my throat.
“Oh yes. But, in some ways—very sad. It makes me remember when…” she paused. I knew this was coming. This was a grave mistake. Not good ever comes from digging up the past, happy or sad. The happy memories only remind you of what comes at the end. “When it all changed.”
“I understand.” I sat next to her, kicking dust in the air. I pet her head. “I’m sorry, Rose. I hope this brings you peace.” I say, assuming she is stronger than me.
“It does. It brings me closer to her.”
Silence. Rose reminisces and I meditate on her point. We have no connection to our past lives now—but more than ever I find myself wanting to live in that fantasy world. A world before everything changed. Before I left the only home I ever knew, and before the war. I wonder if Rose feels the same way with her first home. Before she lost the only person she knew to love and trust and had to grow up and find a new home to make her own. And although she is the only one I have, I wish I could give her this world back. Or at least be able to hide her from what her world has become. Maybe bringing her back here does.
This old ranch house, once warmed and decorated by eager newly-weds, worn down by 3 children, slowly became softer and quieter when the children moved out and the husband passed away, leaving Beth and later Rose as its only habitants. As a kitten, Rose found peace with Beth. There were few visitors and plenty of space to race from one room to the next. As Jazz music played, Beth would water her plants and talk to Rose about the importance of allowing something to grow. Rose learned to love Jazz and the rest of her life, let the plants around her grow without her interference.
After Beth passed and I adopted Rose, these lessons came in handy when I would accidentally purchase a Peace Lily or Alocasia—both poisonous to cats—or when I needed to relax her on a tough car ride by playing some light jazz. Throughout the years I had Rose, she would let me into this past life little by little. I always avoided the subject with her as to not pry. But here, it felt unavoidable.
I take a deep breath.
“Thank you, Beth,” I exhale.
Rose let out a soft, slow stream of tears from her eyes as she began to smile.
“Yes, thank you. I love you dearly, Beth.” Rose stands, tilts her head up as if to acknowledge Beth above in the heavens. “And thank you for allowing me to feel her here once more. It feels like a piece of me has been renewed.”
I nodded. I could not say anymore. This is her moment, and I wanted to leave it on her own terms. No questions, no pushing her towards light-hearted conversations, no heavy hitting words of wisdom…this is for her.
“I want to stay just a little longer if that’s okay.” I nodded again. She nuzzled me as she walked towards the bedroom.
“Just as it was left. Nothing changed, just some dust!” I hear her shout from the other room. “Isn’t that something?”
It is.
- -
Rose presses her right paw into the carpet as she stretches are front legs. Despite being hardened by the years of neglect, dust, and water damage, still feels like it once did. She allows her mind to trick her. She runs under the bed and armoire, hiding from imaginary mice. Beth comes in from the kitchen and lays a throw on the bed. This is where Rose is allowed to lay, so not to ruin the comforter. She finds her spot and snuggles in between her two feet.
“Such a sweet girl, Rosalia. Paying your dues by keeping my feet warm,” Beth’s voice echoes into the room so faintly. The opaque memories becoming more chopped and faded over time feel so clear now.
Suddenly a bright jazz piano plays in the kitchen. Beth is awake and putting a kettle over the stove.
Spring is here, and Beth sits on the front porch while Rose rests her head in the afternoon sun spilling through the window.
Dusk appears and Beth has given in and retired back to the living room for more tea and light reading. The birds retire as well and the night becomes ever so quiet.
The day repeats, over and over, until one day it doesn’t.
One day Beth does not wake up and play Jazz. Many people come and then, everyone is gone. Someone visits once every few days to check on Rose before she is taken away from the home. Rose has returned, but Beth has not.
All these memories play at the same time. Her mind assigns no order or priority over these memories. Once they have played a few times, she pulls herself back to the old, dusty bedroom. Her new caretaker is waiting for her.
- -
I peel back the curtains. Outside the sunset stains everything it touches an orangey-red, meaning good weather ahead. A sense of peace calms my nerves and I feel a nuzzle against my ankle.
“I think I am ready now,” Rose says.
“You sure? We can always come back you know.”
“No, I don’t think so. But I feel so lucky to have been her once more.”
I follow Rose out. My shoulders rolled down with a sprinkle of shame.
“Thank you, Kara. I love you dearly.”
I pick her up onto my shoulder. Rose watches the house shrink behind us, and I watch the sun set on the last day I saw her as my little kitten.

Hey yall! I just bought a pavement gray premium gr86. Super excited to get my hands on it but I am new to mods and I haven't seen a lot of pavement gray modded cars to draw inspiration from (I've seen a lot of halo white and bRed). Anyways - drop maybe a top mods to do or maybe what color combinations go well with gray.
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Thanks

Hey yall! I just bought a pavement gray premium gr86. Super excited to get my hands on it but I am new to mods and I haven't seen a lot of pavement gray modded cars to draw inspiration from (I've seen a lot of halo white and bRed). Anyways - drop maybe a top mods to do or maybe what color combinations go well with gray.
​
Thanks

Hello. I would love to sell these makeup products. Prices dont include shipping. Shipping starts from $4. Shipping is 1st priority with tracking number. Prices can be discussed.
Eyeshadow and face Palettes
1.Pat McGrath Mothership VII Divine Rose $85 (used 2)

1. Mac Aute Cuture Starring Rosalía $35 (swatched)

3.Huda Beauty Mercury Retrograde palette $50 (swatches 4 shades)

1. Huda Beauty Rose Quartz palette $50 (swatched 2 shades)
   
2. Tarte Full bloom $40 (swatched)
   
3. Charlotte Tilbury Pillow Talk $30 (used lightly)
   
4. Tarte High Performance Naturals $20 (swatched)
   
5. Too faced born this way $30 (swatched)
   
6. Mac Botanic panic $35 (new)
   

https://imgur.com/U6ATV3C

1. Mac X9 SEMI Burgundy times nine $25 (swatched)
   
2. Mac X9 SEMI Sweet times nine $25 (swatched)
   
3. Huda Beauty Nude Rich $20 (swatched)
   
4. Huda Beauty Wild Jacuar $20 (swatched)
   
5. Huda Beauty Mattes cool $20 (new)
   
6. Smashbox trio in Tag me (new) $20
   
7. Smashbox trio in punk (new) $20
   
8. Odens Eye Solmåne II $28 (new)
   

17.Tarte Tartelette in bloom (used lightly) $20 https://imgur.com/YppZrJs

1. Dior backstage quad in Glitz (used) $35
2. Mac Aute Cuture Starring Rosalía Highlighter palette $35 (new)
3. Mac Sculpt and Shape palette light medium (used lightly) $35
4. Ofra Signature palette $25 (swatched)
5. Mac Step Bright Up Extra Dimension Skinfinish Palette $30 (swatched)
6. Mac Hyper Real Glow Highlighting Palette $30 (swatched) https://imgur.com/IrXuapP

Singles cheek products

1. Clinique Lunar pop $25 (swatched)
   
2. Mac Petal power $23 (new)
   
3. Benefit Cosmetics Cookie $25 (new)
   
4. Mac Into the pink $20 (new)
   
5. Mac Sweets for my sweet $20 (new)
   
6. Mac Fluer Sure $25 (swatched)
   
7. Mac Look don't touch $25 (swatched)
   
8. Mac Sky's The Limit $30 (new)
   
9. Mac Cheeky Bronze $30 (new)
   
10. Mac Soft Frost $30 (new)
    

https://imgur.com/4b4ZLHs

1. Chanel Les beiges Water-Fresh Blush in shade Light Pink $40 (used 2)
   
2. Chanel In Love Blush $35 (new)
   
3. Chanel 30 Rosy Gold Highlighter $38 (swatched)
   
4. Ysl Couture 9 $30 (used lightly)
   
5. Burberry Make Up Fresh Glow Highlighter in 01 White. $35 new
   
6. Set Nars mini orgasm stick and mini Charlotte Tilbury in pinkgasm (swatched) $20
   
7. Mac Melba $20 (used)
   
8. Dior Highlighting Powder in 03 Pearlescent Glow $25 (swatched)
   

https://imgur.com/y2k8ntC https://imgur.com/Zy77le1
Foundation:

1. Mac Studio radiance in n1 $25 (new)
   
2. Lancome Teint Idole Ultra Wear in 010 $35 (used 2)
   
3. Chanel N⁰1 Red Camellia Revitalizing in B10. $48
   
4. Makeup forever hd skin in 1n10 $25 (used 1)
   
5. Estee Lauder Double Wear in 1c1 and 1n0 $65 (used max 5 times)
   
6. Makeup forever hd skin in 1n10 $32 (used 1)
   
7. Tom ford cushion refill (with case) 1.4 Bone-Wn $48
   
8. Mac pro longwear concealer in NC15 (70% still) $18
   
9. Mac Studio Fix primer $20 (new)
   
10. Ysl top secret moisturizing primer (new) $30
    

https://imgur.com/y2k8ntC https://imgur.com/Zy77le1 https://imgur.com/Mqxfy4d
Lipstick : 1. Bobbi Brown in Rosebud and poppy (used/new) $40

1. Tom ford Lip Lacquer Luxe Vinyl in Insinuate $35 new
   
2. Tom Ford Limited Edition Lip Spark in 06: Havoc $35 new
   
3. Always On Matte Liquid Lipstick in Deep nude $20 new
   
4. Kilian Paris in crystal rose $35 new (forgot to put it in the pics lol)
   
5. Bobbi Brown Lip tint in Bare Rose and bare Raspberry (new) $60
   

https://imgur.com/pH2QCHg

1. Dior Addict 331 mimirose (swatched) $25
   
2. Dior Addict Stellar Shine 578 Diorkiss (used lightly) $20
   
3. Chanel Rouge Coco Bloom in 112 opportunity (swatched) $35
   
4. Lancome L'ABSOLU ROUGE 555 $25 new
   
5. Dior Rouge Dior Forever Liquid 100 $25 new
   
6. Ysl The Slim Sheer Matte in 112 $25 (used lightly)
   
7. Dior lip Scrub in 001 $20 (swatched)
   
8. Mini Charlotte Tilbury Pillow Talk lipstick (swatched) $10
   

(The rest products from prev posts are available too, if you interested message me for those too)

Hey there. I was looking at purchasing the pokemon games on the eshop before the closer, but I wanted to know if there are any differences between the games that are the same generation. I've never played them, so I am not sure. Red, Blue, Yellow, Silver, Crystal, and Gold specifically. Are there version exclusives? Is it worth getting all of them? Thanks in advance.

Heyo. Timestamp
GPro x Superlight Red - $80 Shipped. Some issues with the scroll wheel when scrolling too fast. Otherwise its great.
GPro Wireless Black - Just the regular black, not the superlight. Needs new feet cause the ones currently are torn. $40 shipped or or offers
Razer Orochi v2 White - Barely used. LNIB. $30 Shipped
All mice come in original boxes with all original accessories unused. Always used my mice stock.
Local is to Greater Boston w/ discount