Ten Days to Hell or Health Suzanne Marsh January 1, 2021 Dear Journal, Tomorrow I begin a new diet. Yes, I know I say that every year, and I fail miserably. Not this year, I am determined to take off at least ten pounds in ten days. How you may ask. Simple the No Sugar No Carb diet. I am also going to begin to exercise. This will be a first for the couch potato queen. You can bow to me later, after I complete the diet. The diet looks easy enough the exercise I am not so sure about. Somehow, I think I should have done this thirty years ago instead of waiting until I turned fifty. My new mantra is: "I can do this!" I did my grocery shopping yesterday for the next ten days. Perhaps I will look like Marilyn Monroe, I could dye my hair platinum blond, get some silicon implants, gee with my new figure and looks, I could look like a frumpy Marilyn Monroe. Until tomorrow when I start my diet... Dear Journal, Day 1 My new years resolution is now in effect, this diet takes ten days. This should entice my taste buds according to what I have read, Apple Cider Vinegar three times per day, I just had my first taste, it is bitter, it did not help; now I lust for more sweets. I was supposed to have scrambled eggs, with spinach and mushrooms, instead a nice big piece of cake was so much nicer. After the cake, I knew I should have oatmeal, the oatmeal looked like wallpaper paste, it tasted that way too. Ugh! Black coffee...it needs SUGAR AND CREAMER. I am not so sure this is such a great idea. I can't even begin the damn diet correctly. Actually oatmeal seemed like a great idea at the time. However I did learn an invaluable lesson: NEVER MAKE OATMEAL IN THE INSTAPOT. It seems if you don't watch the thing closely it can and will build up to much pressure, I now have ceiling with oatmeal plopping down onto any surface in the kitchen; including me. I simply do not understand how one cup of oatmeal could completely destroy the kitchen. Day 2 My exercise routine began this morning, I am still questioning myself as to why I even got out of bed. I wonder if can declare myself legally insane. I began with the correct breakfast of scrambled eggs, sliced avocado and tomato. No substance but okay I suppose. The exercises are a trip! They are supposed to be heart healthy, let me tell you the sadist, I would really like to meet him or her. I do believe I would have several words to say, and they would be very colorful. The first thing was twenty five squats, by the time I got five my legs felt as they were about to fall off. Fifteen I was beginning to wobble, by the time I got to twenty five I was tottering. Forget the other exercises, I am going to go to the gym. I guess I need a class in flexibility. Day 3 Being out of shape is the least of my problems. I think I sprained my body, if that is possible! I went to the gym yesterday and enrolled. Today I met with my personal trainer, who must have graduated from the Marquise de School of Sadism. She was a really tiny woman with the pep of a ten year old. She began the session with push ups, I now have muscle sprains where I never knew I had muscle. The muscle must be well hidden, I am rather flabby but this was ridiculous. The next thing the class did was to get on various machines: the tread mill was okay but some of the other torture devises...well let's just say oh no oh hell no! Day 4 First of all I need a sugar fix, this diet is making me crazy, exercise is making me so tired I fell asleep in the lazy boy while watching the boobie tube. I don't ever remember what I was watching, although I am sure it must have the Food Channel. Snacks are a nightmare of their own, nothing sweet. There is something about sunflower seeds that is revolting. Almonds yech! walnuts are okay but for ten days...I think not. Lunch today was a giant fiasco. What sane person has chicken wrapped in lettuce grilled, it looked like green slime, after I grill the slime then I added snap peas, bell peppers, and mushrooms. I dislike bell peppers and I detest mushrooms, they taste like earthy shoe leather. I hate this diet but I am going to stick with it! Day 5 If and I mean if I survive the diet from hell I will have lost my mind along with ten pounds! This is the half way point, hallelujah! I may just treat myself to a hot fudge Sunday. No, that is not a good idea, that could put five pounds back on. I went to the gym today, there I met another woman about my age fifty. I asked her what made her decide to come to a gym where torture machines were no doubt located. She smiled: "Well, I decided after my sister had a heart attack it was time to shed about fifteen pounds. I was once a very active person, now on a good day I am a couch potato." "I am grappling with loosing ten pounds in ten days. I guess I should try to stick to this diet but it is not easy. I was entertaining the idea of splurging with a hot fudge Sunday." "Don't do it, that poison to your body!" That was enough of that! I could see out of the corner of my eye the instructor smirking. This was not a smirking moment! Day 6 Here I sit, pen in hand wondering why I undertook this damn diet! Yesterday I rented a treadmill so I don't have to go to the gym to use one. I thought it was a great idea until I began to use it. I had no idea what the numbers were for, so ten seemed like a good number. The damn thing took off like a scalded cat. I had no idea my legs and feet could go that fast as I clung to the rails. Not only did I get an all body work out, I broke two toes and have a black and blue butt. Whoopee! I may send the treadmill back I don't think I can use something that attempts to hurt me! Day 7 Three more days of torture, three more days of this diet! Three is a good number. I am in the process of making dinner: baked chicken, green beans and kale chips. The adventures of eating right. The baked chicken was really good with a dash of lemon. Green beans are great. Kale chips are terrible, sort of like eating freshly mowed grass. It is green and tastes awful. Glad I did not boil it. That most certainly would have been barf material. I have no doubt it would have looked like the spinach like Mom used to make it reminded me of algae that grows in water. Talk about something unappetizing, that is it! Day 8 One more day, I know I can do this! I feel better, my clothes fit better. Tomorrow I weigh myself. I don't know if I am ready for the revelation but at least I stuck to the diet, that is more than I have managed up to this point. I started this particular New Years resolution twenty five years ago. I have tried every diet that has come out since then and there must be at least one hundred or more by now! I don't know if I am bragging or complaining! Day 9 Not only have I rounded a corner but I am eating healthier than I ever did. I still would like a sugar fix, but thus far I have been good. Resistance, I suppose pays off in the long run. I had roasted turkey, no stuffing...that part sucked eggs! The salad almost cleaned out the ten day diet from hell! The salad had lettuce, bell pepper, walnuts, mushrooms...those still taste like earthy shoe leather. I guess my next New Years resolution is stop being so sarcastic, the damn diet does work. Day 10 Day ten, imagine that. The very first thing I did this morning was to weigh myself. I lost ten pounds!!!!! Ten pounds, imagine! I guess the ten day wonder diet does work, although it more like the ten day wonder diet from hell. I now weigh one hundred and fifty pounds. Since I am fifty and also weigh one fifty I guess fifty is nifty. The treadmill has been returned. I still attend the gym...although I am sore from stretches and a machine whose designer was a masochist! Was the trials and tribulations worth it...yes I think so. I now have the energy to walk the dog...a mile a day up from one block every six weeks. I am very pleased with myself...I went out and bought a brand new set of jeans...no more stretch pants for this girl! Hallelujah and amen!


Dear Diary, Why are heroes so destructive, and why is insurance so hard to get these days? I feel like the two are connected. Seriously though, it’s frustrating. While they fly around, smashing into buildings, throwing away bystanders' lives like worthless trash, the rest of us are left with physical and financial reminders of our average-ness. Yeah, I get it, Spectacular-Man. You can shoot lasers from your eyes and I can’t. Did you really have to slice my aunt’s car in half, though? Was that really necessary?

My mom suggested I start keeping a journal of everything that’s going on. “A mess like this only happens once in a lifetime,” she said. “You’ll want to be able to tell your kids one day.” If I live to have kids.

Anyway, I’ve never been much of a writer, Diary, so please excuse my lack of linguistic expertise. You’ll get used to it quickly.

Dear Diary,

It’s been two weeks since the aliens touched down and three days since my first entry. It’s scary how quickly I’ve become accustomed to the chaos around me. When the end of the world seems imminent, you’d think people would be too busy losing their minds to worry about anything else, yet here I am, sitting at school, watching teachers scramble to put up sound-proof padding on the walls. As if that’s enough to keep out the muffled sounds of the intergalactic war going on outside. The worst part? This shitty school lunch sitting in front of me is the most upsetting part of my day so far.

I forgot to pack my lunch this morning because I was too busy trying to save my neighbors from the wreckage of their apartment. Somehow, a tussle between a gang of “teen heroes” and some aliens made its way to my part of town. I only caught a glimpse of their faces before they flew away, but I could have sworn that one of the “heroes” was my science partner last year. He couldn’t even dissect a dead frog without passing out, and now we’re expecting him to help save the world? The aliens have a slimy appearance, somewhat similar to frogs, so I’m not sure how he held it together through the fight.

You may have noticed my quotation marks around the word “hero” in that last paragraph. When you think of a hero, what comes to mind? Most likely someone who saves people, right? Maybe with huge muscles and an even bigger ego? Not a scrawny white kid with shitty energy-manipulation powers and a savior complex. Definitely not a scrawny white kid with a severe lack of upper-body strength (such a lack that, after realizing he was not able to lift the rubble HE created in an unnecessary fight, decided to flee the scene and leave his old science partner to save the people whose lives he ruined.) Definitely not that, right? Right?

So yeah. I didn’t have time to pack my lunch.

I hate being treated like a device for character development.

Dear Diary, I’m becoming more and more glad that I chose this thick leather notebook over the flimsy composition book I was considering using for this… documentation? Is that the right word? I don’t know. My education has gone sharply downhill these past few weeks.

My aunt finally got some compensation for her car, though. She found some loophole in her insurance agency's “no coverage for super-human accidents” policy since Spectacular-Man is technically part demigod. God, that’s not a sentence you get to say often. When I was a little boy, I use to pray every night that I would magically wake up with powers. Teleportation, or maybe fire breath. Anything I could use for good.

I’m glad God never answered. I shit on these super-freaks a lot, but it’s gotta be a lot of stress for them to suddenly be thrust into the spotlight like this. We had a lot of good Samaritan types before, just intercepting muggings and pulling cats out of trees. Local stuff like that. Nothing nearly as destructive as foreign life forms with a thirst for human brains. I didn’t even know that Scrawny Dude had powers. I guess “energy-manipulation” (whatever those buzzwords mean) isn’t a very useful power for everyday life, so it’s not surprising he kept it secret.

Dear Diary, My mom says I should make copies of my entries in case you get destroyed. She seemed adamant about it. I think she’s still in disbelief I even listened to her. I was too lazy to copy all my writing again, so I just took pictures of the pages with my phone and copied them onto my computer. I think that’s good enough.

Dear Diary,

My mom was right. Your first body got destroyed, along with everything else in my locker. And every other locker at Standard High. Thanks, Tornado-Woman, great work keeping us safe! Now you’re that flimsy composition book I mentioned earlier.

Should I rewrite everything, or just print off the pictures I took and tape them in here? I’m leaning towards the second option. I hope the library is still offering students free printing privileges. On second thought, I hope it’s even still standing.

Dear Diary, Boy, oh boy, oh boy. Where do I begin? Tell me which phrase sticks out to you most: Alien egg nest, rip-off Teen Titans , hospital stay, or super-science-buddy? Should I just go in order? I think I’m just gonna go in order.

It all started last Thursday. That’s when my notebook got destroyed. I briefly mentioned that a hero named Tornado-Woman was responsible for the locker massacre. I criticized her techniques, which, in hindsight, I must apologize for. I am sorry Tornado-Woman. You were definitely right to tear through the rows of metal cubbies with no explanation while all the confused high schoolers around you begged you to stop. My bad.

I’m only half-kidding. Basically, she had noticed that a lot of the aliens were congregating around the high school and snaking somewhere underground. She suspected that it was some sort of nest and thought they were using our lockers as incubators. Her hunch was halfway right. At lunch the next day, an announcement was released to the whole school calling for an evacuation. Everyone filed out in line, except for a few kids.

Remember “Scrawny Dude” who almost killed my neighbors? Well, apparently he has a whole super posse . These “heroes” decided that this infestation was their moment to shine. Literally. One of them has the power to turn into a ball of light. How useless.

I’m getting off-track. Anyway, they all ran back in and decided to handle this mess all by themselves, once and for all. This lasted about five minutes before they realized they’d bit off more than they could chew. Most of the freaks retreated, except for Scrawny Dude and the Light Girl. I guess it was like, dark, or something, down in the basement where they found the nest, so Light Girl did her thing and became… light. Here’s the thing: she doesn’t actually turn into solid light. There’s some sort of core or center that is super hot. Usually, this isn’t important, because usually, she’s not surrounded by highly flammable gross-alien-space-egg-goo-shit.

So long story short, the whole basement erupted into flames. Light Girl was fine, she just phased through a wall in her light form to escape, leaving Scrawny Dude alone and really wishing he had a different power.

Ok, get ready, because this is where I come in. I, in a stroke of absolute genius-ness, remembered that the main entrance to the basement was only a few steps behind the exit I used. Adrenaline took over my body and before I knew it, I was in the building. Within seconds, I located the door, crept along the wall, and finally wrapped my fingers around the handle… but, before I could pull, I heard thunderous applause from outside. My mind raced. Was it for me? I hadn’t even done anything yet. Were my peers so amazed by my bravery that they preemptively gave me a standing ovation? The possibilities whirled through my brain before I saw it: Scrawny Dude, draped across the shoulders of an invisible form, emerging from halfway across the building. The figure set him down on the ground before materializing as a short blonde girl, now doubled over and coughing.

Someone got to him first.

I didn’t even have time to react before a blast of heat from the staircase in front of me shot me backward, straight into a giant window. I had been holding the door open as I took in the scene around me, and in that time, the fire spread onto some explosive chemicals in a storage closet. That’s what I’m told, at least. I lost consciousness pretty soon after. When I woke up again, I was in the hospital. I’m writing this entry in the so-called privacy provided by the flimsy blue curtain strung in the middle of the room. Due to the recent influx of injuries these past few weeks, the hospitals have had to get crafty about making more space. I caught a glimpse of the person behind the curtain; it’s the blonde girl who saved Scrawny Dude. I’ve watched feet shuffle in and out of the room all day, all of them barely noticing me before ducking behind the cloth wall to bring her gifts and kind words.

Nobody came for me.

Scrawny Dude showed up at one point. He looked fine, just a few bandages here and there, maybe a cough or two every few minutes. He gave me a sad smile and wave before leaving.

Now I feel bad for forgetting his name.


Harley and I were just walking down the street, he was wearing army fatigues, while I was carrying my tri pillow and evocca bag with the essentials in it. I'm not sure where we were, but things changed fast. It started with the silence, the dead calm in the middle of the street. Cars stopped, people looked to the skies, and a second later the world erupted into chaos, a chaos that would never end. Harley grabbed my hand and we ran, explosions surrounded us as we dodged falling debris, just trying to make sense of what was going on. We kept running until we came across a school that appeared to be untouched, but was surrounded by people, looking scared and confused. We stayed there for a little while, trying to get answers from people, but they were too scared to say much, we just caught snatches of conversation about, "it was like they came from no where." The school was packed with people, but we found a corner in a classroom to curl up for the night, it was cold and the floor hard. Neither of us slept well that night. The next morning, we soon found out what "they" were. They were monsters, ugly huge greenish monsters, and they were packing some serious weapons. Harley was a corporal in the army so he was soon pushed into being the leader of the group of civilians, and it became a war. The evacuation began. We found an army helicopter sitting in the gymnasium, no one knew why it was there but for us it seemed like a miracle, as it was just what we needed. Harley and I led the pack, he knew how to fly so he was going first, but in the rush we got separated from each other, next thing I knew, the helicopter was packed to the rim, and I was left outside. I told Harley to leave, he had to. There were too many lives at stake, and i Knew he would come back for me. As I melted back into the crowd, yelling 'I love you' over the sound of the propellers, it occurred to me that I may never see him again. And I didn't. Months later. The zone I was in had turned desolate, buildings surrounded by desert. It was a safe zone for humans, but not by much. We had set up temporary beds inside the buildings that lined the street, store fronts mostly. The school where I'd last seen Harley, had been reduced to ash some time ago, by our fighters. I had tried to locate Harley's friends, to see if they had seen or heard from him, but I could not find them. The world had changed so much in so little time. The sun was high in the sky, the sand blowing around my feet, I was walking down what used to be a very busy street. It was hot, but I kept the blanket around me to hide from the sun and severe winds. I had heard whispers in the wind, so often thinking it was Harley's voice, that now it was just a cruel comfort, of what I used to have. But even if he was to find me again, he would not recognise me, as I had lost so much weight in these harsh times. I was in a shroud of sadness and isolation. On the wind I heard him call my name. My heart didn't skip, I didn't form any hope. It was just another day, the wind being cruel. But it wasn't just another day, because in the distance I could make out a figure, walking toward me. I could not see his face through the wind, but I knew him immediately.


March 10 th . 2015 As the sun sets in the distance, the mourners start to disperse. One by one, they turn and walk away, giving Roxanne a gentle pat on the shoulder, or a sympathetic nod as they pass her on the way out. Eventually, she’s the only one left, stony-faced, still staring at the fresh mound of earth beneath which her best friend now rests. Pretty white and pink roses are strewn on the grave, and as the trees sway in the cool, gentle breeze, the weight of the reality finally hits her: Janet is gone. Her best friend of 30 years is gone. She’s never coming back. Ever.

Roxanne heaves a sigh of relief. ---------------------------------------------------------------- January 25 th . 2000 “No, no, no! Janet! Wake up!” Roxanne’s shrill voice rent the otherwise still air, her screams echoing off the walls of the empty building. Tears streamed down her bony cheeks as regret flooded her entire being. Her trembling body was bent over the motionless girl lying flat on her back, limp, blonde hair plastered across her face. Janet William’s pale face looked lifeless, although the gentle rise and fall of her ribs indicated otherwise. At first glance, she didn’t seem hurt. But her legs. Her pudgy legs were bent at odd angles, almost as if they’d been pulled violently apart. Roxanne couldn’t breathe . How could she have been so careless? How could she, Roxanne Jones, a state swimmer, have let her guard down for a minute? She shouldn’t have gone along with this stupid idea. Everyone knew that the disused swimming pool was cursed. How could she have allowed Janet to get to the top of the diving platform? 30 metres above the ground, built over 20 years ago and hadn’t been maintained in the last 5 years. The platform wasn’t sturdy. Definitely not sturdy enough to support a 150-pound teen with no experience whatsoever in diving. Perhaps if she’d fallen into the water beneath, Janet would’ve been fine. Maybe a few scratches, or a bumped head even, but still fine. But she’d hit the cold cement with such a sickening thud. Perhaps if Roxanne had been able to grab onto her friend’s flailing arms as she teetered on the edge of the platform, Janet would have been all right. Perhaps if Roxanne hadn’t also climbed onto the platform, Janet wouldn’t have lost her balance in the first place.

They didn’t know it then, but that one moment of stupidity (or was it misfortune?) had altered the course of their lives forever. ---------------------------------------------------------------- September 20 th . 2002 “You’re going to resign?? Again??” Janet screeched at the top of her lungs. “But you promised to stick to this job! No other job will pay as well as this, and we need the money, remember??” “You need the money, you mean,” Roxanne muttered bitterly under her breath, inaudible to anyone but her. This was not the life she had envisioned for herself. She had once harboured great aspirations, aspirations that seemed certain at that time. Winning the state swimming championship just over 3 years ago had caught the attention of the top sports schools in the country, and she was sought after by world-class coaches who’d promised to send her to the Olympics. She was so close to her dreams; so close. “Roxanne? Are you listening? We need the money. We’re supposed to go for that Taylor Swift concert in Singapore next month. Aren’t you excited for that? And our Europe tour later this year? Isn’t that on your bucket list? Roxanne forced herself to look at Janet. Her best friend. The girl with whom she grew up at the orphanage. The girl who’d been by her side since they were toddlers. The girl who’d been confined to a wheelchair since that horrible incident 2 years ago. Janet looked hurt, tears starting to pool in her eyes. It took very little to set her off these days. Janet’s once-bubbly personality had been crippled along with her legs. Initially distraught after the doctor’s declaration that she’d never walk again, she’d now come to terms with it. But Roxanne became everything since then. Even as children, they were inseparable, but now, it was as if Roxanne was her lifeline. All of Roxanne’s ambitions had to be abandoned; all of her desires were put on the back burner. Janet’s needs, and wants, took precedence over all else. Whatever Janet wanted, she got. Through Roxanne. Janet was living through Roxanne.

Despite her frustration, Roxanne thawed. Although she wanted to scream at the unfairness of it, her expression softened. Once again, she was consumed by the familiar guilt. It was after all, partially her fault that Janet was now in this state. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I won’t quit the job. We’re definitely making the concert and the tour. Two items off our bucket list,” Roxanne heard herself say, kneeling so she could hold Janet’s hand. This was how all of their disagreements were resolved – with Roxanne conceding.  ---------------------------------------------------------------  June 10 th . 2005 “You want me to what??” Roxanne bellowed. “Trust me; it’ll all be worth it -” Janet’s sentence was cut short by Roxanne’s outburst. “You want me to be a surrogate?? Carry your child? Are you insane?? You do know that I’m engaged right? Marc and I plan to start a family one day when we’re ready. That’s probably years away. Who’s going to raise this child of yours then? Or are we all going to live together for the rest of our lives? How much more are you going to ask of me, Janet? Haven’t I given up enough for you??” Roxanne knew instantly that she’d gone too far. The expression on Janet’s face said it all. Her features were contorted in agony, and tears cascaded down her cheeks like a burst dam. “I-I can’t b-believe you just said that!” Janet’s voice broke as she yelled. “Given up enough for me?? If you hadn’t dared me to jump off that wretched platform that day, I’d still have a life! If you’d stopped me from climbing up those steps, I wouldn’t now be a paraplegic! If you’d grabbed me when I reached out for you, I’d probably be a wife and a mother today!” Roxanne felt like she’d been slapped. She always wondered if Janet truly blamed her for the mishap. Now she finally got her answer. And it stung. In that moment, words failed her. Janet wasn’t done. “Since you’re the reason my life has gone down the drain, don’t you think this is the least you can do for me?? You know how much I love children, right? It’s probably one of my dearest dreams, which I can no longer achieve, no thanks to you! So you think 9 months of carrying a child is worse than 5 bloody years in a wheelchair? 5 years and a lifetime to go! You owe me this!” Roxanne sank into the couch, covering her ears, refusing to listen. ---------------------------------------------------------------- August 2 nd . 2008 The smell in the doctor’s office was oddly comforting. Roxanne winced when the cold gel was applied to her growing belly, but she was eager to see the ultrasound image of the life within her womb. Janet looked ecstatic of course, seated in her wheelchair by the foot of the bed, squeezing Roxanne’s foot reassuringly. “Did you feel any movements today, Ms. Jones?” the doctor’s concerned voice boomed after a few minutes. The smile on Roxanne’s face faltered. “I t-think so,” she stammered, looking at Janet for confirmation. “Is something wrong??” Janet’s voice was laced with panic. “I’m afraid I can’t detect a heartbeat, Ms. William. I’m very sorry.” And just like that, their second surrogacy attempt came to naught too. Both Janet and Roxanne grieved, but in different ways. While Roxanne withdrew into her own cocoon, Janet was more vocal. Her heartbreak was too painful to contain. She bawled her eyes out daily, inconsolable, irrational. For Roxanne, the pain was beyond words. Granted, she’d been a reluctant participant initially, but with each attempt, the idea had grown on her. She’d broken off her engagement with Marc, choosing to put Janet first, as usual. She’d devoted all her time and energy to this. She was so invested. She felt like a failure; she’d failed Janet once again. ---------------------------------------------------------------- March 10 th . 2015 Roxanne heaves a sigh of relief. A part of her aches at the thought of spending the years ahead without her best friend, but another part feels as though she’s been liberated. But the guilt is something she’ll carry with her forever. Janet managed to live her life to some extent through Roxanne, but many of her dreams remain unfulfilled. The past few years have been rough. Janet’s health took a turn for the worse after a bout of pneumonia about a year ago. Recurrent infections and hospital admissions became more frequent until last night, when Janet finally gave up. “Goodbye Janet. I hope you’re in a better place now,” Roxanne whispers as she takes a step back and finally leaves the cemetery.


Centuries ago a secret society, bent on the idea of a world inhabited only by them and those of their choosing, quietly formed and began to lay the foundations that their chosen predecessors would build upon for generations to come. Eventually they proclaimed themselves the Elite Intelligence Leaders of Earth's Reform or EILERs. Only the very highest of society's high class and those viewed to be absolute genius within the proper academic fields were deemed worthy of recruitment consideration. Those candidates were thinned further using stricter scrutinies until only those found perfect were cleared to be approached. With members dedicating their entire lives to their sacred cause the EILERs swiftly and silently put into place everything ruled necessary to create the world they so feverishly sought. For decades enormous laboratories, safe houses, storage facilities, and highways connecting them were installed deep beneath Earth's surface in preparation of the day their dreams could be realized. Years before humanity could develope infantile suspicions, EILERs had developed things far beyond their capacity to fathom. Genetically engineered beasts known as Wolgarears, Fawldorees, War Baralin, Crocazurphin, all programmed to obey the EILERs. Any human wanted for entertainment or servitude purposes would be lab produced, pre-progammed specimens of chosen design. The different countries, states, providences, even the plant itself would cease to exist by their former names as with only one controlling factor any needs for such divisions were rendered extinct. This new playground for the true deserving rule would be known only as Euphrasia, the perfect combination of EILER humor and truth, as this Utopia would come about through their unique form of euthanasia for euphoric gains. Many would like to believe this only science fiction, perhaps at worst the ramblings of some conspiracy theorist who's mind has finally completely broke; for Remainders, the last surviving non-EILERs, however, Euphrasia has been their new reality for the greater part of eight years now and, despite it's spelling, they all understand it's pronounced hell. Rag-tag groups of Remainders had banded together in mostly small numbers since the EILERs launched their first wave. Many were hunted down and killed by the various beasts that now prowled on land, in the sky, and by waterways alike. Others starved or succumbed to the elements, diseases, or effects of nuclear and chemical fallout. Some couldn't be defined as surviving, their minds had snapped leaving them barely more than wild beasts themselves. Others just disappeared into what wilderness was left, content with existing however long they may have so long as they lived and died on their own terms.

Sure some fought back but to no avail, most fought and squabbled amongst each other handling the EILERs work for them.

A very rare few had proved themselves quiet the intolerable nuisance; as had been the case for Alina's band of misfits. Had been was, of course, the key phrase of that statement. Alina came back to semi- consciousness in panic and an agony like she'd never known trying in spite of it to bolt upright and intensifying the terror as she realized she was immobilized. Hot tears sprang to her eyes but with effort she blinked them away and staved off the flow. They could take her life but not with the satisfaction of breaking her first. Physical pain is only temporary no matter how bad, she told herself, the phrase fast becoming an inner mantra even as the fog settled back in fading her out. "Alina?Aaaaliiiinnnnaaa? ALINA!" That final snapping of her name, sharp as a slap, brought her to the surface enough to at least cut her eyes in the direction of it's origin. "Ah, yes, atta girl. Unfortunately, instead of just putting you down like the repulsive vermin you are I need you alive and conscious for at least a bit longer. Alina dear, don't do that, focus." Someone was talking and snapping fingers in her face, and again she fought to understand.

"Fine, I'll give you the antivenin, though I'd much rather you suffer through. Pay attention damn it, you'll be coming out of it rather fast once this traverses your veins a time or two." A pinch, then a feeling like being forcefully yanked from watery depths. Alina gasped and nearly wretched. "Don't you dare!" A man, thin and balding, thick glasses, stood over her with such an extreme hatred in his eyes he could be no other than an EILER. Fear gripped her hard again and this time, as the agony faded away, she knew she should have fought to stay inside the fog instead. This was it, the end. He knew it and knew it wasn't going to come easy. His could only hope the others had gotten away safely somehow. He was long overdue on the other side of life, he was good with dying, but getting one of them killed? Unacceptable. They should've been ten times more cautious, years of successful raids on EILER buildings had made them stupidly confident and bought them their send off this time. Hagan mentally checked his body for injuries, rating severity, while attempting to appear still lost in unconsciousness. Nothing noteworthy internally, he focused on what his senses, with the exception of sight, could tell him about his external surroundings. Lux somehow made it to the rendezvous point before collapsing to his knees, then over onto his side. Gone, they were gone, the only family he'd known for the last five horrendous years now just names on an already too long list.

His mind replayed that last heart wrenching sight before he'd finally forced himself to follow logic and run. Alina leaping from the roof, attempting retreat, nearly making it but being brutally seized in the air by a Fawldoree, it's lethal, venom soaked talons piecing deep into her back. Her scream before the beast disappeared back inside the compound with her would haunt him forever. He knew the risk he was taking every second past the set limit of ten minutes but leaving was like confirming them dead. Chrissy sat shivering, her back pressed against the damp earth of the pit she dropped into. The ground had just opened up beneath her, swallowing her whole and closing behind her. The darkness so complete she may as well have squeezed her eyes shut. As absolute as it was, it didn't feel empty, and when the stench of rotting meat hit her nostrils followed by a warm, sickeningly wet tongue lapping slowly up one side of her face as if savoring the taste of her fear, Chrissy began to scream. Rainer came to with blood running into his eyes, the stinging causing him to grab a fistful of the his shirt and use it to rub at his face forcefully. The night around him was deathly still but as he started to raise up a strong arm snaked around his throat dragging him backward. "What do you want from me?"Alina found her voice as her captor dug through a desk compartment for who knew what. "Hmm? Oh, not much really just keep breathing for now and when the time comes do really well with your part as the pitiful, helpless female so I can extract the information I need from your mate." "From my...." She internalized the rest of her sentence. Mate? What mate? Did he mean one of the men in her crew? Had some one else survived? "You're wasting your time and mine." He casually stood and walked calmly to the table she was strapped on, looking down at her with an eerie smile before exploding into violent action and driving an old letter opener straight to the bone inches above her right knee. Calm again, he watched her strain involuntarily against the straps, her high pitched scream fading into the keening of a wounded, terrified animal.

"I don't believe I am, no. No I think something of that sort will be just the ticket." He smiled again, flicked the opener's protruding end and danced away as if enjoying some grand tune. Checking the masterpiece they dared still title a watch, Harrington smiled again, what an exciting night, and oh, how he loved excitement. Now that the filthy little rodent was squirming in pain again, he had other business that should be delivered within the minute. Leaving the interrogation chamber and swiftly entering his temporary living quarters, he was not displeased with the timing of a thump at his door. Rolf, his personal Wolgarear, sat patiently with his part of this mission balled up and shaking between his massive front paws. "Very well, bring her in and place her on the cot." Carefully as a mother lion might her cub, the grizzly sized wolf, cougar, bear hybrid lifted it's living package and padded into the room doing exactly as he was told. As they always did.

"Hmmm, very good, too long, too long indeed....hmmm. Thank you Rolf, see yourself to the male's holding area and await further instructions." He absentmindedly waved the beast off. "Welcome home daughter." He strived to hit the perfect tone of disappointed, stern, yet relieved parent. "Let's hope the cleansing it's gonna take to rid the last seven years you've insisted on living as normal filth doesn't actually kill you before we can reunite as a proper family." Gently as possible he tightened the restraints on her wrists, ankles, and midsection. He'd let her rest as he worked on the disgusting bile that had somehow poisoned her mind and taken her from him long ago. Having heard the muffled but still bloodcurdling scream, Hagan had to rethink the good of his previous prayers, he knew death could indeed be a great mercy. He didn't get long to chew on it as a Wolgarear entered, plucked him from his gurney as though he was a mere infant and trotted out into a corridor of sorts. Humiliating to say the least, dangling from the beast's mouth like a chew toy. He caught glimpse of a man, unmistakably an EILER, seconds before a hood slipped over his head and the trotting started again.

He was soon roughly discarded onto a hard surface pulled upright into a sitting position and the hood was yanked free.

A whip thin man in at least his early fifties stood towering over him, his expression inquisitive with a fist pressed to his lips, forehead furrowed above beady squinting eyes. "Not even acceptable breeding stock, ah well, not the purpose anyhow, nothing lost. Come now look at me, really look so I know your fully aware." "Fuck you, how's that for breeding stock you evil piece of shit." "Not much intelligence either, speech is understandable though and that's all I need. Listen carefully I only say this once without consequence, I need to know how many little friends you brought with you and where to find the ones that may have managed to survive." Slowed reaction time due to just regaining consciousness saved Blades from being flung across his shoulder and ending up with a broken neck.

"Shush it tough guy, I didn't drag myself and your sorry ass out of that cluster fuck just to die from your lack of control." "Fuck you, Blades." He managed to sputter out. "You got a long way to go before that's a possibility Romeo, pull yourself together." "How, bad...everyone..." "Shush, listen. It's bad, worst we've ever got. Jeremy and Feist are dead, Chrissy and Lux are unaccounted but it's difficult to believe in a happy reunite at a rendezvous...." "Alina?...Ha..Hag..." She paused but then. "Taken." Causing him to strain to get up forcing her to muscle him around more. "No. Don't be stupid. We try to go in that only ends with all four dead and you know they may already be gone, breathing or not. We wait, we watch, long as we can. If we can we will do everything possible if we cannot we do not dishonor them by dying stupid." She was right, he hated it but he'd preached those very concepts to them repeatedly for years, he and Hagan had. Alina squealed and thrashed about despite her every attempt not to as the bastard viciously twisted the object deeply embedded in her thigh. Hagan spewed a stream of obscenities and promises of brutal death and she desperately sucked in deep, unsteady breaths trying to prepare for the next assault. "That does not pertain to a single question I asked you, I'm very disappointed in you." He disappeared behind his desk causing Alina to start shaking. "Hagan keep your mouth shut, it don't matter!" She still managed through clenched teeth. He'd known pain and suffering, seemingly unbearable agony, but this... this was indescribable.

"Hagan! Don't you fucking da..." The EILER son of a bitch cut her off mid sentence by grabbing her by her chin and pinching tightly.

"It's a shame I need you making all those pretty screams, else and I'd sow that filthy mouth shut!" Releasing her with a shove he turned back to Hagan. "Now that I have your undivided attention..." He held an inconspicuous little silver instrument in front of him for Hagan to see but hidden from Alina's view. "Do you know what this is? What it's used for?" Hagan's chest and throat began to tighten and burn as he worked desperately to keep down the churning stomach acid. "No? Ah, well then, allow me to educate you." He towered over him again but leaned down til they were almost nose to nose.

'Big mistake asshole.' Hagan had to suppress a grin, but then... "Rolf, should this pathetically stupid Remainder do anything to prove that nature, the girl automatically becomes your dinner and you are to take your time, really savor your meal."

"You son of bitch, you sorry motherfucker I'll.." "You'll shut up and listen to me only speaking when asked to or I'll cut my losses and he can have her now."

As if to get in it's rathers the Wolgarear whined and chuffed from its place by the door.

"Now, back to our lesson, this pretty little instrument here is simple yes but a must for any data extraction kit. You see you take this end like such, placing this part underneath the fingernail just so and press until you feel the resistance of the nailbed. Now, here's where technique is applied, some prefer to just cram it in and pop the nail loose all in one quick go. Myself, I say what a waste, no creativity. This is an art! I like to slowly work it back and forth, never really letting up pressure but not rushing the process either and my way you can get all the way to the base and pry loose the entire nail. None of that sloppy business." Hagan trembled, his eyes closed tight enough to cause starbursts, his jaws ached from clenching his teeth, and his finger tips threatened to bite into his palms. "Please." "I'm sorry what was that?" "Please. Please don't." "What? Use this? On her? I most certainly will without your intervention. I'm not the bad guy here really, you could stop it. You could end every bit of this, I just need a number and relative location. Pretty fair trade I believe."

He stood back up straight and began backing toward Alina, twirling the damn thing between finger and thumb. "Going once...going twice...AND I'll count the silence as your choice. Negotiations are closed for this round folks." Turning, he latched onto one of Alina's fingers as she fought hard to get away. "The more you squirm the longer this takes. Your choice." Showing obvious surprise in his voice, he couldn't help but cruelly tease her as she stopped struggling. " Now see, there a good dumb c...." Now his eyes registered a very different surprise and he tried to straighten himself to full height, mouth gaping. Harrington Mathews Fellerock III fell dead without ever finishing that sentence. Alina's eyes widened with fear as she remembered the Wolgarear, Hagan already had his attention glued to the beast that still sat by the door calmly as though nothing had become of his owner.

Chrissy went straight to quickly loosening Alina's restraints until she was satisfied Alina could finish the task, silently she stepped over her father and began loosening those on Hagan. Alina and Hagan remained tense but stunned into a continued silence Chrissy finally broke.

"I'd say search quickly but I'm not sure that would be smart, I've already gathered some supplies while I searched for a weapon and your whereabouts, they're waiting outside the door, can both of you manage walking out of here or..." She grinned devilishly, looking from one to the other for dramatic effect before walking over to the Wolgarear still sitting as calm and innocent as an oblivious puppy. Neither could hold back gasps of alarm as she put her face to it's and spoke something inaudible to them. The confusion only intensified as the Wolgarear stood up, nudged her chin almost in a loving like gesture and padded out the door where it stopped and glanced back as if to say "You guys coming or what?" "Well? Walking or riding?" "Walking." They declared in unison. "Chrissy" Hagan started but she hushed him with a stop gesture. "Earning everyone's trust was harder for me than anyone else in our group, why?" "Because you're...." Quickly connecting the dots his astonishment only increased."That piece of work is?" "Was, at one time, my father. Yes. Not for a very long time now and I feel nothing other than relief in saving you two and admitedly excitement for getting to reunite after all these years.... you see? Rolf was never his, he was created and programmed for me when my father was still convinced I'd delight in being an EILER." She smiled again brightly.

"So, how you think our next raid is gonna go seeing as how we have our very own Wolgarear now?"


Earth 2150 is a much different place. Most of the world has turned into slums, areas where the poor and desperate live in squalor. Austin had a family on earth until the wars started in the slums. Losing his wife and kids while he was away getting rations from the aid convoy took everything from him. His family had always talked about moving on to one of the colonies, but the kids were to young, one more year and they could have done it. After spending months trying to get justice for his family, he decided it was time to do what his family never would now. Move on. It was a one-way trip but Hell what did he have left? They are offering ten million cred’s and 5 acres of land on Rylon, the newest colony. He signed up, made it through the tests and prepped for cryofreezing; The only way to make it through the 5-year journey to Rylon. Austin awoke with a jolt, ears ringing, eyes glazed over with whatever paste they put in them to protect his eyes from the cryo. His body hurt everywhere; they tell you this will happen and that it will pass but they could not have conveyed how much this hurts. Ears screeching with sounds that he can’t make out, because the nerves are still working on waking up. His body is asleep, that needles and pins feeling when you sleep on hit your funny bone but all over. A voice . . . a woman’s voice. What is she saying? “Austin, everything is alright you have made it to the station orbiting Rylon 6. We are bringing you back. I know that it hurts more than anyone ever could have made you believe but just hold on and you will be all set up.” Fading into blackness. Austin awoke to find himself in a room grey walls and white ceiling. The last thing he can remember was the burning he felt all over his body. He tried to move his hands and feet and was surprised to find that he had been strapped into the bed so that he could barely move. He opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was an awful groan of pain. His throat felt like he had not had a drink for years. . .and with that one thought it all came back to him. The loss of his family. Deciding in the months that followed that there was nothing left for him on earth. He tried calling out again. “H – h – h cough Hello?” he got out in the gravelliest voice he has ever heard. Behind him he can hear someone sitting up and a chair moving. “Hello, Austin how are you feeling? We have strapped you down so that incase it takes a few hours for you to remember where you are you do not hurt yourself.” As the disembodied voice was talking, he could hear footsteps moving along the floor and suddenly a blurry woman stood over him. “Here let me get these out of there” She reached down and pulled the protective lenses from his eyes and suddenly he realized just how bright this room was. The overhead light panels are off and the room is brighter than he has ever seen. “There we go that’s better! My name is Beth I am the doctor that woke you up from Cryo this morning.” “Its over?” “Yes, it is! You landed on Rylon 6, 12 hours ago.” “Where are we now?” “Let’s sit you up, shall we?” As Beth was talking, she had pulled the control remote for the bed from her pocket and began to sit him up into a sitting position. Austin Could not believe his eyes. He had seen the pictures of what earth had looked like when his Great Grandad had been a young man. And even those he had though could not be real. So much Green. But can you even call it green when it is so many different colors that all contain green? “I did not believe it could be this beautiful” as a single tear runs down his cheek as he thought of the family that would never see this. “I will leave you now. If there is anything else just press the button there on your bed.” Alone with his thoughts he came to grips with the fact that it was done. He figured all that was left now was to keep moving forward. The following day his legs were finally stable enough for him to stand. Rylon has a slightly less dense core as such gravity was about 70% of what Earth was. He started the physical reconditioning process so that his body would not lose the muscles that had not been used in 5 years. Cryo stops everything you don’t age but when you wake up your body begins to atrophy so to combat that there is a 6-week conditioning process to counteract that process. Austin could feel a noticeable difference in how his body felt on Rylon 6 due to the weaker gravity. The air he was breathing was somehow different than earth Austin had never breathed air so fresh. 6 weeks flew by and before he knew it, he was sitting in his room on the night before his release to his new life. “Hi Austin! How are you feeling? Ready for your departure tomorrow?” Beth asked as she walked in with a tray of medicines. “Oh, hello Beth, Yes I believe I am. I packed what things I have had here and had all my documentation sent to the decontamination station so that the remaining portion of my personal belongings could be sent to my storage container. What’s with all the meds?” “These are your last set of immunization boosters. We don’t want any of the viruses from Earth to make it here to Rylon so we have to give you an inhibitor to help clear them before letting you out.” She drew up a few syringes of medicine while she was talking and laid them all out ready to go so that the unpleasant necessity can be taken care of quickly. “Oh yeah. . . I remember you telling me about those sorry! Here which arm?” “Left please” Austin turns to his right exposing his left bicep so that the medicine can be injected. Just like that she had given him 4 shots and had disposed of the needles in the little sharp’s container on the wall. “I wish you the best of luck Austin! I need you to come back in 4 weeks for the last set of injections to ensure that everything is in order! Here is your final packet with the finalized printout of what you need to expect moving forward. Your land will be about 5 miles South-West of the main colony landing zone.” “Awesome thank you!” The next morning Austin awoke with the sun as he had for 6 weeks and after a brief breakfast and farewells boarded the cargo transport to get to his new home. When the captain of the cargo transport told him they would be landing in moments he looked out the window and felt his breath catch in his chest. Beauty indescribable and unforgettable surrounded him. He knew at that moment that he would be happy here.


I’ve started to write something. I don’t really know what I’m writing, but I’d like to spill my stream of consciousness out onto a page, grasping my thoughts, before they drift away again. I don’t know where they drift off to, there’s nowhere they could physically go, but they do. It seems to be important to acknowledge all these thoughts, accept them, but don’t dwell on them. I spend far too much time thinking, overthinking, arguing with the voice in my brain, so I thought I’d give that voice in my brain another task. That voice in my brain is now typing out this, and at least it stops him arguing with myself. I find that if I keep that voice adequately occupied, it prevents us squabbling, and that way I can live peacefully. I’ve never tried meditation- to me it’s like a mixed martial arts, training myself mentally against the annoying voice- but I’ve never done it. It’s probably the annoying voice that has convinced me not to, outsmarting me in a way, so that I cannot defeat him. I’m speaking of this other voice as though it isn’t really me, but it is, and it seems that everybody has another annoying voice. If not, we’d all walk around completely content with ourselves- not afraid to speak to girls, to large groups of people and just being happy to be alive. This annoying voice spends far too much time regretting what I haven’t done in a day and why I’ve been staring at my phone for multiple hours. Without it, I think I’d be happy just surviving. After all, we’re only here to survive, so why aren’t I happy just doing this? There’s something special about humans. Our quest for surviving has evolved as we have. We no longer just search for twigs, to light a fire, to keep ourselves warm, to cook food, to stay alive, to have children. We also have that annoying voice, which perhaps isn’t so annoying. It makes us curious, it makes us do stuff and that’s what makes us better as a race. Without that voice, I would not be wandering aimlessly in my thoughts right now. I seem to be fighting that voice right now, desperately trying to add some structure to these thoughts, to develop a storyline, and almost an argument for this piece of writing. But I shouldn’t need to, I want to let that voice do the talking. The voice is probably the reason why we are surviving now, and is setting is up for success as we colonise other planets- instead of sitting here waiting for the next existential threat. It tells you to get off your arse, but it also makes your mind wander and ask questions. The voice will keep asking those questions, badgering away and being “annoying” until we find the answers. At which point, it will ask another question and the cycle continues. But we have bettered ourselves in this time, we now understand about the depths of the universe, we can speak to someone thousands of miles away, we can manipulate energy into many forms and we can keep ourselves free from disease and illness quite effectively. So maybe the annoying voice isn’t so bad after all. Its incessant nagging can get tedious at times, but it’s remarkable ability to take me places, without going anywhere, and tell me to doing something, without actually saying anything, is very special. However, we still know very little about how that voice operates, in a location we have named “the brain”, the most complex organism in the universe. I think, that instead of trying to train the annoying voice, I should let the voice train me, let it ask those questions and I’ll seek the answers, riding out the misery it does sometimes inflict. Because maybe one day, once we’ve answered all of the questions, the annoying voice will tell us a bit about itself. We will have mastered the brain. I think I’ll try to befriend the annoying voice.


Avidan made a tidy living writing formulaic romance novels full of graphic descriptions of casual sex, with no redeeming qualities whatsoever. He published under a pen name, and told no one. All his loved ones thought he worked at his volunteer job at the homeless shelter, and somehow never questioned how a person could afford an apartment in this city from whatever imaginary earnings they thought he accrued from such a modest organization. His life was smut and serving soup. His editor told him she was going to have to take a ten month leave of absence for personal reasons involving cocaine and legal trouble, but that everything was perfectly fine. Really. She assured him that she would return at the conclusion of this hiatus prepared to edit, and was trying so hard to keep her cool in this three-minute phone call that she didn’t give him any writing parameters at all. This was unprecedented. “No wonder she always sends her edits in the middle of the night,” he said to himself after he got off the phone. Avidan set his personal feelings regarding drug addiction aside and contemplated the gift he’d just been given. Thankfully, his last novel was already on the press, which meant it was time to start a new one. He could finally write however he wanted. He had ten months, but this project had to be of such quality that his editor would publish it even though it wasn’t like his other books. He was going to go rogue. It had to be a romance novel or his editor wouldn’t touch it, so he poured his heart and soul into writing the romance novel he’d always wanted to write. After ten grueling months of late nights and peanut butter sandwiches set on top of glasses of milk next to his computer for more meals than was really prudent, he had a complete draft. The protagonist had a complex personality, and rejected the handsome man who doggedly pursed her because he was shallow and controlling. When he attempted to rape her, she gave him a knee to the groin and reported him to the authorities. He went to prison halfway through the book. She overcame nearly insurmountable obstacles in order to receive a formal education, and met a wonderful man who treated her as an equal. They fought some pirates and then moved to a city where they had ample career opportunities. His editor broke the silence. “Do you have a draft for me?” She sounded more like her old self, if less energetic. “Well...I do… It’s not like my other novels. Just read it and keep an open mind.” “This does not inspire me with confidence.” She read it. She loved it. They sent edits back and forth for a while, then it was published. Within six months, it was apparent that this book was going to sell extremely well. Whether it was the pirates, or the total breakdown of normal romance novel procedure, either way, he now had many readers. The publisher increased the advertising budget, and then sales exploded. Now there was talk of a book tour. This was problematic. He had no way of explaining his absence to his friends and family, and felt bad about taking leave from the homeless shelter. Sales went up and up, and soon his other books had increased sales, as well. Avidan was becoming a rich man. “The book tour is non-negotiable.” They told him. “You leave in June, come back in September.” He was going to have to tell his friends and family. This did not go well. He was glad he decided to call his parents, rather than tell them face to face. “You’re some kind of porn writer?” His mom scornfully spat out. “What happened to writing Christian books? That’s all you talked about, growing up.” “Writing smut is the only way to make a living as a novelist,” he attempted to explain in vain. Then, he endured a fifteen-minute lecture about Jesus, moral values, and the importance of good reputation and how he was destroying their family. He tried to point out that he wrote under a pen name, but his mom was resolute in her certainty that everyone would find out once he did the book tour. “It’ll be your face in all the pictures. People will know.” “What pictures? Nobody is going to take any pictures. I’m just going to go to bookstores and sign books.” His dad intervened at this point and negotiated in earnest for the family to simply never discuss this issue again. It was left that way. So he thought. Right before he left for his book tour, he received a call from his 89-year-old religious grandmother. “I’ve read all your books, and I have some questions…” she began. “Oh, dear God, no!” He couldn’t help but say. “Calm down. I’ve had two husbands and know more about romance than you. I have questions about some of the decisions your heroines made. Why in the world did Penelope in your first book lead on that poor, hardworking lawyer who loved her so much?” They discussed G rated plot details for hours, and she gave him valuable insight. He was shocked to have such an unlikely supporter of his career. His friends mostly made fun of him, and he learned from his mistake with his family and refrained from divulging his pen name, despite considerable pressure. Then, there was the matter of the money. Avidan had royalties pouring in, and he was a simple man who required few material things. He completed his book tour, sales still skyrocketing, and was given complete liberty to write his next book. As he set about to write another novel that broke convention, his savings had accumulated to the point that he could retire if he wanted. Instead, for the rest of his long career, he continued to write industriously, and donated all his earnings to the homeless shelter. He no longer volunteered there, instead spending all his time writing so that he could maximize his earnings. They were able to expand, serve better meals, hire more staff, and start providing additional services with his smut money.


### Musket Whines ###### 6 min read - 1264 words Quiet as it was, you could hear a baby takin' it's first breath out in the street that mornin'. I wasn't no liar and I'd be damned if I'd let that bitch steal my horse without no say so on my part. Velvet meant the world to me and I wasn't about to concede to no horse thievin' whore over the say so of an ol' drunkard. They called me Fire in my brothel tendin' days, on account of my hair, and Velvet was my prize. She was my escape. The day I knew I was done makin' men satisfied in exchange for dignity, I offered a trade for my services, the exchange being Velvet. You could get you'self a shit foal for ten dollars. Velvet was priceless in my eyes. Within a day, Sherry was at my door, falsely accusin' me of stealin' her man and her horse. Sherry kept comin' round, spreadin' evil words and I'd had enough. I says you want my horse, you goin' to have to kill me for her. That's how it all started. My beloved horse and a lying, no good, whore. So here I was, standin' back to back with the devil's wife herself, pistol in hand, ready to die for my ride to a better life, wonderin' if I'd made the right choice. A crowd had gathered, account of drunkard's mouths always bein' open, and I was uneasy about the short path layin' ahead of me. My heart pounded away like the hooves of a thousan' horses. If Sherry didn't do me in, my heart just might. Pistol to my chest, I could barely hear the words the Deputy Sheriff statin' the rules of the duel over my heart poundin' away, but I knew the rules. Ten steps and I'll be sending the devils wife back to her fiery rockin' chair. I could back down, but the world wasn't built for cowards an' I'd lose Velvet and my ticket out of this hell hole. "One!" I took my first step, mind racin' and retracin' my childhood. I thought about my father leavin' me as a baby in the care of strangers in this harsh, cruel world. From what I hear, my father was more interested in the bottom of a bottle than raisin' a child. If Sherry wasn't shittin' herself now, she would be soon. Fuckin' liar. "Two!" Another step. First home I can remember was just four walls and a loft of hay to sleep in. Damn strangers already had 'nough children and treated me like I was just another animal in the Goddamn barn. If they hadn't of had chickens, I'd probably had died of starvation. Raw eggs taste like snot, but it's better than an empty stomach. "Three!" I remember the orchard out back behind the barn. The days after school spent cryin' and wonderin' why kids were the devils spawn, teasin' my hair and freckles. I miss the taste of apples and peaches already. If we get through this, Velvet can have all the apples she want's, from here 'til kingdom come. "Four!" The steps are coming automatically. I think of the fields of hay and my muddy, tattered clothes as I hid from that abusive, piece of shit, fondlin' me all the time an' tellin' me to settle down. When I'm done blowin' Sherries head clear off, I'm comin' for you next. "Five!" I'd turn now and send that bitch packin' if it wasn't for the crowd and the Deputy watchin'. If I miss that whore and she get's the better of me, I'll be damned if someone else don't do her in for me. Not like she's done anyone in this town any favors, accusin' everyone and everything of fuckin' up her life. "Six!" I see the sign above the saloon doors swingin' in the breeze and some drunkard spit's tobacco while leanin' on the s'loon door. Anyone who wasn't in the street before is makin' there way out here now, ready for a spectacle to begin. I may have been an ugly child, but I grew into my own and I can see the wanderin' eyes watchin', wonderin' if I'll be back in there solicitin' a bed. "Seven!" Well if Sherry ain't shit herself by now, she sure as hell 'bout to. Hell, I'm having a hard time keepin' my whits 'bout me. Ain't no one in this town know'd me to be the lyin' type, but I said I'd die for Velvet and that's a promise I intend to keep. Nothin' in this world ever meant much to me, God knows ain't no one befriended me for the sake of doin' so. Velvet will change all that. She may not be human, but she's a good horse and a worthy companion. "Eight!" I can feel the sweat beadin' across my brow. The sun is bright and hot, leavin' me worse for the wear. A dress might have been cooler, but ain't no one to impress and I intend to get while the gettin's good when I'm done killin' a bitch. I remember the first time I saw a man die in this street, and the feelin's are lessened each time I take witness to it. "Nine!" I can see the crowd fidgetin' among themselves. They're like a fox that's happened upon a hen house, pacing with the eagerness of knowin' blood is 'bout to be shed. I can see a child pullin' at his momma's dress and wonderin' what all the countin' and silence is about. For all I know, this is the first death he'll witness. I remind myself to try to breathe steady. It'll be over in a few more pounds of my chest. "TEN!" It's just a number, but the Deputies word echo's through the street. I spin around, catchin' a glimpse of the shops and shop keeper's scornful eye's watchin' two women about put one or the other to death and it feels like an eternity as I'm bracing myself for what could be my last. As I start to straighten out my arm and prepare to take aim I can see the Deputy standing off to the side, eyes flickin' back and forth from me to Sherry to catch the moment one of us falls. A shot rang out and it wasn't mine. I gasp and pull the trigger of my pistol, hopin' to at least finish her sorry ass off before I fall down dead in the street. The second shot ring's out and I fall back expecting that I'll soon be taking my last breath. From where I lay on the ground, I watch as my bullet pierces through Sherry and she falls to the ground on her hands and knee's gaspin' for air, blood starting to pool 'round her breast. She's chokin' and coughin' up blood like I'd seen so many times before on this very street. I want to check myself and see where I've been hit, but I need to watch her lyin' eyes take in their last sight. Somewhat unsurprisingly, I haven't been hit. Sherry was always a shit shot and inexperienced when it came to shootin' pistols. She must have been shakin' in her boots, because I wasn't prepared for what I saw unfold. I glanced around the crowd wonderin' what became of her bullet and as I my eyes trailed from person to person, I saw him fall to the ground. Sherry had let her shot out early, probably on account of bein' a dumb whore, and caught the Deputy Sheriff in the throat.


"What is it like?” he whispered, trying to calm himself. She sighed. “It is exactly what you think it would be like.” He was not sure if she would continue, given her extremely annoyed expression. He had no choice but to wait, nearly forgetting to breathe as he counted the seconds in his head. “I have often thought of how I would explain it to a human if one ever asked me. I have had millions of make-believe conversations in my head with frightened, scared, little know-it-alls such as yourself. When they realize its all true… the look on their face.. Its beautiful.” Her words were so fluid. She half smiled and her eyes filled with a sinister resentment for him. She again paused an awkward length of time before inhaling sharply and resuming her thought. “In those mock conversations, I always try to explain the difference between living one life...with one family, one schooling experience, one professional experience, and one death… and living hundreds. I have been every profession imaginable and I have been nearly every type of person as well.” She spoke slowly, with purpose, as if reading a script. She paced in front of him as she continued, “There were decades where I was kind and had a family. Decades were I was alone and dreamed of a better life. Decades were I was an explorer and traveled everywhere…” her voice had changed to a sweeter tone. He could tell she was remembering something, or someone. She was thinking about something other than him and he felt a second of relief. “I have quiet literally done it all and now, unfortunately for you, you humans tend to bore the shit out of me.” Her voice had reverted back to the harshness that first accompanied it. Upon hearing her last thought he quickly knew his stalling tactic was failing and scrambled his brain for a challenging question, an interesting thought...anything! She inched closer to him and her eyes were no longer looking into his. They turned a empty, midnight black; displayed his scared reflection. He shook his head in terror and cried every plea he could make until he suddenly blurted out, “What about love?!” She paused at his inquiry and smiled large and warmly. “Oh. You’re doing that cute thing that frightened humans do. You want to know me? You want to find out my secrets? You want me to share things with you, things that will make you important? Well, guess what.” Her eyes faded back to a radiant blue and her skin flushed with color. She looked… beautiful. And caring. She looked at him the way his grandmother would when he was younger. She looked so familiar he unintentionally relaxed. Even stopped crying. “You’re not.” His blood was drained from him faster than the warm feeling from her smile.


This is an excerpt from my new novel that will be coming out soon The Long Walk Home: EMP I lit my solar lamp and was just about to check the stove. “What the hell is that?” Jeb said, pointing at the lamp. “It’s a solar lamp.” “Why is it working?” “Because it’s solar?” I said. “But the EMP fried all that stuff. Why does yours work?” “I don’t know. I didn’t even think about that before. I checked it when I took it out of my trunk at work that day and it was working.” “So being in your trunk must have protected it in some way. Then maybe some of the stuff sitting out there in the trucks might still work too.” “I have a bunch of stuff in that shipping container outside. All my camping gear is in there and so is the solar system I bought for this house.” “If that still works, it will be a game-changer for all of us,” he said, grabbing me and swinging me around.

“I have two-way radios out there too,” I said. “We could talk to your mama and daddy from here if they still work.” “Well, Hope, let’s go find the radios,” I said. I found the key to the shed and opened the door. Finding the tub with the radios fairly easily. Rick and I had a huge fight because I thoughtlessly packed them up when we could have used them during the moving process. I had come down here and gotten them, but he refused to use them so I had put them back.

“Wow, Hope. I really was blind about him,” I said, trying to shrug off the memory and the emotions that had come with it.

I pulled out one of the radios, said a prayer, and turned it on. It worked. Tears streamed down my face. “Thank you, God. Thank you that Rick had that fit and I put them back.” I found the charger and Rick’s solar charger. I hooked it up and set it in the sun and it worked too.

I grabbed the other radio and checked on the chicks. Twelve still. Lucy seemed to be okay with them. “Hey Hope, let’s take this radio and charger over to John and Cindy’s,” I said, patting her head. “We will have to be quick though, it will be dark soon.” I put everything in a backpack and we took off towards Cindy’s house. It was a beautiful day and other than the mud it was a pleasant walk. Hope, of course, had to splash through every mud puddle she saw and shake the extra off on me.

I didn’t think about how I looked when Cindy came to the door. “Oh my God, what happened to you? How badly are you hurt?” I looked down at myself in confusion. “Oh, the mud, Hope shook that on me,” I said, laughing. “You scared me so badly,” she said. “I couldn’t bear anyone else getting hurt right now.” Then tears started pouring down her face.

“Cindy, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m so sorry. I found our radios and they still work and I was just so excited to bring one over,” I was hugging her, patting her back, and starting to cry myself.

When she had composed herself, she said, “Don’t be sorry. I haven’t allowed myself to cry since this whole thing started. I was overdue. Sorry, you had to be the one to deal with it.” “Nothing to be sorry about, “ I said. “Now what did you say about a radio?” “Things that were in my trunk were still working. I don’t know why I didn’t connect the dots before but I went out to the shipping container I have for storage and found these radios and they still work too. I brought you a solar charger. Now we can communicate I hope. They have a pretty good range, when I get home I’ll call you and we can test it out.” “Sophie, this will change everything. Have you tried the emergency channel yet?” “No,” I said. “I wanted to be around other people when I did.” “I understand that,” she said. “John’s getting better already, by the way. Meg marked his leg where the stripe was and it was gone back a quarter of an inch already.” “More good news!” “Try the emergency channel,” Cindy said.

I turned the radio on and changed it to the weather band. Static. “I shouldn’t be disappointed, but I am,” she said. “I’m kind of relieved that there is nothing in a way. I miss some things about life before, but not that many really.” “The only thing I miss right now is emergency rooms and pharmacies.” “Yeah, I know,” I said, hugging her. “I have a solar system in the shipping container that was supposed to be for my house. If it still works, I want you and John to have it. I think it will do the most good here for all of us.” “Sophie, we couldn’t take that. It’s too much.” “Just think for a minute, if we can get your freezer working again what would that mean for all of us? Your house is the heart of this community and you should have it.” “We will discuss it as a group, but I would hate to take something so precious.” “Honestly Cindy, I don’t want it. I enjoy the peace and quiet.” “We’ll talk about. Now I hate to rush you, but it will be dark soon and I can’t wait to see if the radios will work between the two houses. So git,” she said, laughing. “I’m gone,” I said. “Let’s go, Hope.”

I was completely covered in mud by the time we got back and I didn’t have any water in the camp shower warming. “Cold shower it is. Thanks a lot, Hope.” She didn’t seem at all sorry. I pulled out the radio and turned it on. “Cindy, I’m home. Can you hear me?” I let go of the talk button and held my breath.

“Yes, yes, I hear you, Sophie!”

“Is Jeb back yet?” I asked, looking at the quickly setting sun. “No, don’t worry though. Jeb and Sam can take care of each other and Meg was with them so they won’t do anything foolish.” “I know,” I said. “I’ll have him call you when he gets back. It’s so nice to be able to say that,” she said. “It’s nice to hear too.”

I quickly changed and washed the mud off. Lucy was now the proud mama to twelve chicks. There was still one egg left. Then I went inside to wait. I made coffee and fixed myself something to eat. After I cleaned up from my meal, I went outside to check the chickens in the coop.

It had been full dark for nearly an hour when I finally heard his voice on the radio. “Sophie, are you there?” “Yes, I’m here. Are you okay?” “We are all fine. We hit the motherload at the drugstore, then went to another town nearby and did very well there too. I’ll be there as soon as I help unload everything.” “See you then,” I said. I put the coffee on to reheat and waited. Hope jumped up and ran to the door and so did I. “Sorry that took so long, but we found some good stuff that will save lives. Meg was literally jumping up and down,” he said, as he picked me up and swung me around.

“How is your dad?” I asked when I caught my breath.

“He is doing much better. The red streak is almost gone. Is there coffee?” “Of course there is, do you want anything in it?” “No, just coffee tonight.” I poured two cups and handed him one. “I’m supposed to let Mama know I got here. Where’s the radio?”

“This is so nice,” I said, handing it to him. “Hey Mama, I’m at Sophie’s,” he said. “Thanks for letting us know. I can go to bed now. See you later,” she said. “Good night, Mama,” he said. “I guess we can go to bed now too.” “But I’m not tired,” I said. “Good, cause neither am I,” he said with a wicked grin. I woke up the next morning to the sound of a very busy hammer. I got up and dressed quickly and went outside. The outhouse was really spectacular. It was an A-frame with shingles. It looked like a mini Swiss chalet. The vents at the top were covered in a lacy trim.

“Is that what I think it is?” I asked. “Yes, it is your new and much-improved outhouse,” he said, bowing. “It has a proper door and hinges. How will I ever adjust to such new-fangled implements?”

“You are such a smart ass. But that’s one of my favorite things about you,” he said, hugging me.

“I can’t believe I slept through you doing all of this.” “Most of it was already built, I just had Max deliver it this morning,” he said. “And I did wear you out last night.” “Yes, sir, you did,” I said, blushing.

“And I intend to do it again tonight,” he said, kissing me. “Now go make breakfast while I finish up here.” “Yes, sir,” I said, saluting.

“Get out of here you smart ass!” he said, laughing. “Did Max take the chicks this morning?” I asked. “Yeah, he told me to tell you that the last egg had hatched. He took Lucy too. Mama wanted her to help keep them warm.” “That’s fine. I feel much better about your mama having them. I don’t know anything about keeping baby chicks alive without power.”

“How many were there?” “Thirteen,” I said. “Mama will be jumping up and down. She says we need one hundred more chickens. She had just had hers butchered for the winter when this happened. Most of it went bad because we couldn’t eat them all fast enough.” “Well, I’ll go make breakfast now,” I said, kissing him. “I’ll be in a few minutes,” he said. We had settled in to eat breakfast and I asked, “Have you ever been married?” “No, I came close once, but she didn’t want to live out here and I sure as hell didn’t want to move to Birmingham. So we called it off. I have had a few girlfriends since then, but no one special, until now.” “I never dated very much. Rick’s family hated Tammy and basically told him they would disown him if he married her. He broke up with her and we started dating. I think he picked me because our parents hate each other. Maybe he thought they would reconsider Tammy. They gave us a house even though we eloped and screwed everyone out of their party. After a year of doing all the social stuff we were obligated to do in our small town, we bought this land and moved, pissed everyone off. Being rebels was all we had in common though, I see that now. We had talked about kids in the future, so when I realized I was pregnant I couldn’t wait to tell him. He tried to be excited, I thought he was just in shock and would come around. When I lost the baby, he couldn’t hide that he was happy and relieved. It was never the same after that,” I said, wiping the tears off my cheeks. “A few weeks later I answered the phone and a nurse asked to let him know that he missed his follow-up appointment for his vasectomy. I never told him I knew.” I looked up at Jeb and he had tears in his eyes too. “I’m sorry, I’ve never told anyone that before. I didn’t mean to be a downer.” “Don’t apologize. I want to know everything about you and I’m glad you told me that. I would be over the moon if we were to have a baby someday.” I smiled at him and he kissed me.

“What about your parents? Would you like to go check on them?” “They died last year during the pandemic,” I said. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” “I have a brother, he is a lot older than me and we were never close. I can’t see him as the type to survive what happened. My dad used to take me camping, but my brother never wanted to go. I don’t think he knows the first thing about survival.” “Well, I’m very glad that you found your way here. You’re not alone anymore.” “Me too. Now let’s go see what goodies are in my shipping container to make our lives a little better.” There were eight solar security lights, a dozen solar lanterns, several strings of solar party lights, a solar generator kit for camping, and the system that I had purchased for the house.

“The outhouse for sure gets one of these security lights,” I said. Jeb laughed. “Sam is an electrician, so he can install the solar system for the house.” “About that, I think that should go to your parents’ house. We can use the camping system here.” “Why?” “They have more room and if we can find a freezer that works think about how much that would mean to everyone. We have to think of ourselves as a community now and use our resources in a way to best help everyone.” “You’re right. I may know where there is a freezer in a shipping container.” “That system would have run everything here. Sam will know how much it can handle, but we may be able to have more than one freezer and a refrigerator.” “Well, let’s keep two security lights and two of the lanterns and take the rest to Mama’s. I’ll call Mama right now and call a family dinner so we can discuss all this.” “I’m going to set up the camping system and see if it charges and works.” That night after dinner, Jeb laid out all the supplies we had found in my shipping container.

“Looks like Christmas came early,” Cindy said. “Well, it’s much more than just this stuff. This means that things we find in trucks out on the highway will work, maybe too. This means we could possibly restore some of the comforts that we have lost. Sophie has a solar system that was supposed to be installed on her house and she would like us to install it here, for all of us to use. Sam will have to look at it and see what is possible, but we could have at least one freezer, a refrigerator, and maybe some other things too,” Jeb said. “We couldn’t take that from you, Sophie,” John said. “I have another system that I used for camping. I will keep that one. But we need to put our resources where they will do the most good and help the most people right now. Having that system here will do the most good for all of us,” I answered.

“All that is contingent on us finding appliances that are in trucks, correct?” Meg asked. “I think I know where we can get some. The furniture store in Fayette had inventory stored in shipping containers behind the store. I don’t think finding new appliances will be an issue and I think we can do it relatively safely,” Jeb answered. “Sam, do you think that you could use what Sophie has as a guide and make more of these systems?” Cindy asked. “That’s possible if we can find the components. The parts shouldn’t be too hard to find and my boss kept all his inventory in shipping containers. He might even have a solar system or two in there. I’ll be over in the morning to get Sophie’s and get started trying to make it work if that’s okay?” “I was hoping you would say that,” I said. We walked home in the dark, aided by Hope and a solar lantern. “You seem sad, Soph,” Jeb said. “I’m… I don’t know how to explain it. I have been so happy since the EMP. That sounds awful, I know. So many people died and that is horrifying. But I don’t miss TV or phones or traffic. I love the peace and quiet that we have and the life that we are building. Part of me wishes we hadn’t gotten all that stuff out of storage. I know that sounds crazy.” “It doesn’t sound crazy. I feel that way too. But having the security of a freezer will be awesome.” “I know. I just don’t want to end up right back where we were.” “That’s why it was so easy for you to give it away,” he said. “Yeah, but I still meant what I said about the greater good and all that.” “I know you do. Now let’s go in and see if your camping system is charged.” “It’s at about thirty percent, which isn’t bad for being almost dead,” I said. “Want some coffee?” “Sure, I’ll start a pot,” he said. “Nope, I have a coffee maker from my camping gear,” I said. I plugged the coffee maker into the inverter. Filled it with water and added the coffee grounds, then flipped the switch and waited. “Oh my God, I haven’t heard that sound in months,” Jeb said, once the air was filled with the gurgle of the coffee maker. “I suddenly feel like Pandora opening her box,” I said. Hope walked over and laid her head on my lap, sensing my mood. “You didn’t open that box, it was opened a very long time ago. I hope that we will use this gift to make our lives better,” he said, handing me a cup of coffee.

The coffee tasted bitter to me, but I didn’t say anything.


*Sersun Chapters:* *This installment inspired by* *.* \ **Chapter 8: Enraged Earth** Night fell, passed, and was replaced by the morning dawn. Ezekiel had, as always, kept watch through the night. Nothing serious had happened aside from distant rumbling a few times during the night. At the time Ezekiel had thought it was just thunder from one of the many transitory storms, but when morning came and there were no clouds in sight he found himself worried. He made his way back to the camp in the plaza, finding Robin already awake and preparing breakfast. "Hey there Ezzy, how was nightwatch?" "Mostly uneventful, but there was rumbling off in the distance a few times last night." "We miss a storm then?" "No, there were no clouds, and it all came from the same direction." As if to punctuate Ezekiel's words, the rumbling sound echoed through the city streets again. Very close, close enough Ezekiel could identify it as a collapsing building. Robin scrambled to his feet as Riverwood and Sasha jolted awake. Robin looked up at Ezekiel, "Hey, would you mind going somewhere high up? That sounds like we've got a wraith nearby, let us know how close please." Sasha pulled her shield off the ground next to her and pointed down one of the streets, "Don't bother, it's already here." Ezekiel turned, a lumbering four-legged mass of dirt and rock as wide as the supply cart and twice as tall wandered in a far intersection. Robin motioned for Ezekiel to stay still, "Don't move, it might not have noticed us." Ezekiel blinked, "But it's right there." "Do you see any eyes on it? Earth wraiths find you through your footsteps." Sasha scoffed, "Especially yours, clanker." "Haven't you taken one of these down on your own before?" "Do I look like I can take a boulder the size of a house down on my own? They're usually smaller." The wraith turned, facing right towards them. With a sudden burst of speed, it charged. Robin gestured backwards, "Hey Riverwood, we're kinda squishy, mind getting us out of the way?" Riverwood grabbed Robin and launched the two of them upwards to a taller building with a gust of wind. Ezekiel glanced over at Sasha, "Are you going to get out of the way too?" "I know how to fight." Ezekiel heard a click and metal sheets folded out of Sasha's buckler, unfolding into a tower shield just as tall as she was bordered by razor-sharp edges. "Alright tin man, keep it distracted and hit it hard as you can. Only way to take these down is chip away until you reach the core." Ezekiel nodded, then launched forward at the oncoming wraith and slamming his shoulder into its center of mass. Rock splintered and shattered, chunks of dirt sprayed off, and as Ezekiel's feet plowed a furrow in the road the wraith began to lose momentum. Ezekiel heard a rush of wind, and a moment after that Sasha rushed past him at high speed. She dipped her shield down and pushed it through the top of the earth wraith's leg, the hit from its sharpened edge launching out a spray of earth. As Sasha readied herself for another charge the wraith bucked, launching Ezekiel up into the air and back to the plaza. Ezekiel hit one of the obelisks causing it to wobble ominously. He fell to the ground and moments later Sasha landed next to him somewhat more gracefully. Sasha growled, watching as Riverwood began holding the wraith's attention by showering the area around it with pieces of surrounding buildings. "This isn't going to work, we're going to be fighting it all day like this." Ezekiel looked back, "Can earth wraiths climb?" "No, why?" "Then we can just toss it in the chasm. It stops being our problem." Sasha nodded but was interrupted as Robin shouted out at them, "Hey ruffians! Get the wraith to charge the obelisk!" Sasha looked at Ezekiel. He shrugged and she nodded, "Help me get its attention, I'll lead it here." Ezekiel rushed the wraith again, picking up a piece of rubble and slamming it into the side of the wraith when it turned to face him. He could almost feel the anger pouring off it as he jumped back out of its way. Riverwood stopped the shower of rocks, and Sasha came in behind Ezekiel, slamming the front of her shield into the wraith where the impact from Ezekiel's first charge was still visible. Sasha jumped back and sprinted away from the wraith. Ezekiel held still until the two had passed, then began chasing behind them. He watched as Sasha reached the obelisk, kicked upwards, ran up its side for a few steps, and flipped back over the wraith as it collided with the obelisk. The obelisk shifted, sliding off its base and tipping out over the chasm. Ezekiel didn't wait to see the impact, jumping at the wraith instead. He slammed his entire weight into the staggering monster, and kept pushing until it tumbled over the side of the cliff. With a synchronized crash, the wraith hit the ground far below, and the top of the obelisk slammed into the far side of the gap. The obelisk cracked slightly, but held. Robin jumped down from his perch and sauntered over, grinning. "That solves both our problems at the same time, yeah?" Ezekiel looked at the fallen obelisk and let out a low whistle. The cart and supplies would need to be moved over separately, but sure enough, it would work as a bridge to get everything across. The path forward was open again.