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I've done everything I can think of to leave. I've tried my local DV shelter reaching out to friends and family for help. No help in sight for me. The amount of control this man has is disgusting. I can't leave or do anything for myself. He stole my house keys and locks me out. He controls the money and I have no cellphone. I can't even do a work at home job to get independent. I know I'm not alone and other women have been threw or are going through this. I'm out of ideas and solutions to take my life back. The options I have are bleak. Be homeless and run the streets or stay.

The Hungry Ghost was amazing! I knew we were hearing one they didnt play every show. I had to look it up when I got home.
At one point I think Robert mentioned seeing Mt Rainier on the flight from Portland. He said it was a "farking big hill" or something.
Also, did anyone else notice he DID NOT like the cell phones in flashlight mode when he came out for the first encore? He said it was too bright, and right away about half the people stopped doing it. Then he said "I guess I shouldn't complain."
Twilight Sad was very good. Unique singer of course. The guitar player was using an ebow on his Jazzmaster for one song. They were too loud though! Yikes. Painful with earplugs out.
The Cure kept it to about 88 DB, I didnt ,meter them but Twilight Sad had to be over 100.
Great show, 29 songs 8:15 to 11. Awesome. Nirvana shirt for Robert.
During Close To Me Robert was over on stage left, and a gal at the bottom row of a side section near the corner of the stage was dancing ebulliently, wearing all green it looked like, or hospital scrubs, but she danced "with" Robert for a few seconds, I think he did a couple of her moves looking at her, and she just lit up with happiness and danced with total joy.

I had a girl friend who used to Uber at night in a bigger city (made decent tips etc. picking up people going home from the bars, etc).
She told me she had started engaging her alfresco nudity kink more and more while doing it.
Basically had passengers in the back and got more and more confident inching how much risk she took. First unbuttoning her shirt to expose her bra. Eventually driving without pants. Eventually without bottoms at all.
She pushed it to the point where she was able to drive with only a long unbuttoned shirt on. Too dark and most passengers were too drunk and clueless to even know what was going on.
Regardless, pretty wild experiences for her. She never got caught from what she told me.

Back again with another rant. My ex and I were together for 10 years from age 19-29. Never officially married, but we were engaged, lived as husband and wife, and own a home together. He left me and our 2 year old son at the end of September 2022. He was never very active in the childcare while we were together. I worked from home and provided for my son everyday since the day he was born. After my ex left he had a sudden change of heart and was ready to "be a dad" He wanted 50/50 custody. Basically asking for my son to bounce between homes every other day. Custody has been an issue since day one and we're still trying to find a solution to that. We've been to court and are currently trying to settle in things in mediation.
Here comes the kicker... In October of 2022 my ex started "officially dating" his new girl. He never told me and I had to find out on my own in December 2022. They recently purchased a home together 4 weeks ago. Yesterday while in mediation he thought it was an appropriate time to have the mediator inform me that my ex and his new girl are married... she is pregnant... and its due in August... I felt completely blindsided, and stopped mediation for the day.
How could I ever have given so much of my life to an absolute monster of a human. Its so clear to me now that I was just an object that he could use and dispose of once my "usefulness" was gone. I hate that I chose this man to be my sons father. I hate that I was so blind to all the abuse for so many years. Over the last several months I've realized I need help trying to process through the trauma I've endured. I'm going to start Therapy this month and hoping to be able to learn how to forgive myself for allowing this all too happen.

Hi all ,
I (f) was in a almost 3 year relationship with a (m) I am in my late 20’s so is he. Our relationship started during the pandemic or a few months before. This began with getting to know each other from a distance. He charmed me good and smooth talked me well. I fell for it. I mentally at the time was sad/depressed. I always was a hopeless romantic with a little bit of insecurity on marriage. I began to explain how I was afraid of committing because I don’t want my heart hurt. In hindsight I set myself up for it.
Fast forward we are speaking damn near everyday and I share/over share . He shares with me. We meet up when he is home from work and talk about whatever and hang out at parks, restaurants etc. I meet his close friends and a few relatives, I feel legitimate. I’m like wow, he see I love him now, I do. He stood his job due to his own demise, which I bit my tongue at because I gave the tendency to give advice and try to help people. I was not happy with his decision to leave his secure job in the military but he did. At this point he is lost. He stopped having a plan for himself. I saw this and at times I would give advice.
I didn’t get treated the same. I explained my love language and what I liked. He did minimum effort to do it. I saw it and would make a comment but when I do I always felt like I gave him chances to show me his love. I changed what I knew I wanted for him. I like photo shoots and lovely romantic dates or matching outfits. I wanted to showcase my love and not hide it. He was more hidden online. So I said well maybe he not ready so I’m not going to push it.
Fast forward , he leaves me and says he is not coming back. I am sad but want him so I say we can continue our relationship and I will meet you. A whole year of me asking when was the best time for us to meet again. I don’t have to use his money to get a flight etc. I just wanted to see him again. He pushed me off, started speaking on finances and how he was not able to see me. He stated this before but I ignored because I saw that my bf didn’t want to see me?? Not even for a 24 hour trip?? I got suspicious and accused him of cheating and hiding. So I buried my insecurity thoughts so I won’t be nagging. I did this only for so long and I would bring it up. He would say that he didn’t want to drag me along in his life or burden me. I say what do you mean? Don’t you love me so it’s no burden. I wanted to show him that I love him even through his rough moment. I reminded him that no we won’t always be happy etc.
He dumped me. I brought up planning to see him he got offended like he usual does but this time he was aggressive and he was firm about our break. He said he couldn’t do anything for me , he was not in a good place in his life and he is miserable me and he didn’t want to drag me with him. ( I been knew after the first year of dating) I just tried to be my positive loving gf self. I feel like I always loving the wrong person. And they dump me because I am desperately in love with them lol I can’t describe it besides that. I love hard and I hate to get in a relationship because I be all I an. I feel dump for the past 4 days now. He hasn’t spoken to me and I feel like my chest has gotten stabbed. I wasted my time.

first off im NOT advertising this im curious to see if people think its a good idea or if they know the laws.
So long story short i own a 2020 Kawasaki ninja 650 and i genuinely don't like this motorcycle at all i bought some goddies hoping it would tip the scale to keep it but i really just don't like it. (hate it really i wana do a full on review of it but what i say people wont give a shit about)
but regardless I've had jt advertised for sale for a while 2 years i think. started off at $7000 with 1200 miles now irs up to like 4300 miles and i have it listed for $6500. its got "goodies " on it puig windshield full yoshimira tail tidy frame sliders i put the factory option 12v outlet in and it has a tank pad and a custom 3d printed phone mount holder (mods don't add value necessarily i know) ive had one serous bite but because I have a loan they didn't wana buy it. no other serous people so I was thinking about doing a raffle like $100 to enter and maybe get a motorcycle. with a reserve of course, im curious if anyone thinks it could work. if theoretically you would be interested. and second question anyone here understand the laws around this kinda thing in Michigan.

Yesterday I (23M) lost my backpack in a bus. It had a lot of important and expensive things inside (thousands of dollars) and I got quite desperate. I couldn't call the bus company, so I texted my gf(24F) and asked her to try calling them. After about half an hour, we couldn't reach them and I decided to tell my family. We texted later that night, and I was talking about my hopes for the driver to get the backpack and keep it safe. She told me it was quite unlikely, and I replied "oh love, don't say that". In my mind, I was trying to be playful. A few minutes later, she told me that many people would just get the backpack and take it home without telling anyone, and again I replied "oh love". She got mad and said I was acting very strangely. She told me that I was acting like she didn't give a damn about me, and that she did care. I apologized and assured her I did see that she cared, and that she helped me a lot. Today, I got my backpack from the bus company. I told her. She said "I didn't like how you talked to me yesterday". I apologized again and we moved on from the subject.

So I posted one of these a few days ago about making friends and talking to the cute guy at my school and I did end up talking to him and getting his snapchat but I knew previously that one of the girls in my homeroom had rejected him twice, once when she was single and once while she was taken. I asked her about him because we’re friendly and she’s called me her friend before and she said she doesn’t even know his name and he isn’t her type. I was like oh okay and told her I was kinda into him, she told me to go for it so I did. Ended up going back to her and saying I got his snapchat and it went really well, she seemed pretty thrilled for me and I thought that was the end of it. Today I see her go up to him and start talking to him but I didn’t think much of it until she began being touchy and flirty with him and eventually walked off somewhere more private with him. Just weirded me out cause she never showed any interest in him before I said something, she didn’t even know his name and she has a boyfriend already. I was jealous but kept my cool and asked her about it and told her it was fine to be honest cause i’m reasonable and she said it was nothing, no more context but she did laugh when I asked if she liked him. I came home today to see that he left me on delivered for most of the day after talking nonstop. I know it seems super irrational to make assumptions but I know the type he’s into and it’s mostly white girls, she is a blondie with blue eyes and i’m an arab girl with none of that. Just a little upset honestly, this is kind of a rant but I would really appreciate some advice on how to go about this.

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Found a 2013 convertible for $15,593 with 48,845 miles in it. Seems like too low of a price for that mileage, the car facts are clean. When I talked to a sales rep they said they will give me carfax or I can check their website and see it for free. What do you guys think? It seems good, but I got feeling there’s gotta be something wrong with it at that price point.

i never thought i’d have to write a post like this. i thought he’d break records and live a few more years. Keegan had just turned 16 in March and he was in such good shape. he had some lipomas but nothing ever slowed him down. he loved food, sniffing, licking our hands and feet literally nonstop, licking dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and so much more.
he was also so mischievous and explored every square inch of our apartment, looking for a crumb lol.
we had an amazing Memorial Day weekend. him and his brother (11 year old coonhound, Clooney) went on a bunch of walks with us, we had a picnic, we went to a new park. it was so great. and we had no idea that’d be the last weekend we had together…
on May 31, right after feeding him dinner and going outside, Keegan started acting off. he was shaking. i assumed the AC was too low, so i increased the temp and wrapped him up. this didn’t do much to help.
after he wasn’t calming down, i called 2 local ER vets just to be safe. they both said as long as he can sleep and doesn’t progressively get worse, he should be OK until the morning to see his primary doc.
he didn’t get worse, but didn’t get better. his shaking did subside but he began breathing faster. i counted his BPMs and took his temp with a rectal thermometer. his breathing was faster than it should have been & his temp was slightly above what it should have been (103F). he also was "knuckling" his back left leg.
he was able to sleep through the night and woke us up @4AM on June 1. he went outside & he peed and pooped without assistance.
we brought him inside and got ready to feed him and his brother. he was interested in food, but when i put the bowl in front of him, he just stared. i had to hand feed what would be his last meal. at this time it was 6am and i didn't want to wait any longer for his primary doc to open.
we took him to the ER & explained what was going on. they admitted him and the ER doc suspected he may have arthritic flare up, along with a confirmed fever. she started him on fluids and took a chest X Ray to see if he aspirated fluid into his lungs potentially causing pneumonia.
after we dropped him off @7am, we got a call back around 11am. the chest x ray didn't show much significance in his lungs, and his blood work had some lowered white blood cells & some protein levels, but nothing off the charts.
ER doc said a neuro consult would be next and to spend the night to break his fever. we dropped off his medicine to them and about 30mins later, we get another call.
Keegan was declining. his fever was raising & he was deteriorating. we so desperately wanted an in home euthanasia, and the ER doc said we could, but after we see him, we might change our mind. the neuro consult suspected he had some sort of growth on his brain, due to some past issues of excess thirst and urination, which was at bay, which made it all the more confusing.
we thankfully brought his brother along for the ride. they rolled Keegan in and he was in rough shape. he was "not there" and didn't perk up when he saw us. he breathing was more labored than i've ever seen. we didn't want to risk taking him home and putting him through more. at around 3PM, Keegan was peacefully euthanized as his mom (my gf) held him in his arms and i next to her.
it hasn't even been 24hrs, but we are absolutely shocked and devastated. how could this happen so fast? he was in such amazing shape the day before. he didn't get into anything & he had a low key day.
i am feeling all sorts of feelings; guilt, regret, anger, confusion-- all normal i assume. but i never expected i'd lose our boy so fast without warning. they could've done an MRI to confirm a growth in his brain but even so, anesthesia would've been risky and radiology would've been hard on him.
i miss him so bad. i never cried this much in my life. i am hurting more than i ever have. i don't want to go on without him. he made our small family of 4 so lively, even at his old age. he was the best dog i've ever had the privilege of meeting and owning.
my gf had owned him since she was 9 and is turning 26 this year. he was her childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood. my heart breaks even more for her.
we feel like a part of us died yesterday and our apartment isn't the same. it's too quiet. i miss his little nails hitting the floor and him licking my hands and feet until they were raw.
i'm likely going to need professional support to help me get through this. but, i wanted to post to ask if anyone else had a sudden death like this? i'm in such shock and pain. if you read this all, thank you. i have so much more to say about him, but i can’t see well through the tears. i want him to live on forever since he was the best.

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I have Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator.
Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator course is one of the best products on how to start a marketing agency.
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The topics inside Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator course include:

1. Agency Navigator course Core Curriculum
   
2. Custom E-Learning Platform For Agency Owners
   
3. Financial Planner, Revenue Calculator, Outreach Tracker & More Tools
   
4. Websites Templates, Funnels, Ads & More
   
5. Template Contracts, Sales Scripts, Agreements & More
   

The lessons in Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator will teach you how to:
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To get Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator contact me on:
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Reddit DM to u/RequestCourseAccess
Email: silverlakestore[@]yandex.com (remove the brackets)

Bought the game about a week ago now and for the past 7 days I've been constantly looking online for ways to resolve this glitch or whatever . My R2 button for accelerating just doesn't work and my X button to select and press ' play' on the home screen doesn't either , also my camera is always swivelled 180 degrees backwards and I can't see in front of the car . I have tried everything , added it to steam and launch from steam , unplug all usb's and restart the pc , messed around with settings .

I recently switched DSPs and in a different warehouse. My previous DSP was decent. They didn’t have all the extra bonuses like other DSP’s. For example, guaranteed 10 hours, safety bonuses or any extras for doing rescues. I was one of their top drivers, I was always scheduled 40 hours and was never an extra. My route was an hour away from home all country. I found a DSP that has a local route and was offering $.50 more an hour, 10 hour guarantee. I rolled out on previous DSP without warning. I’ve done two routes with the new DSP & have had to be rescued both routes. All apartments and businesses something I am not used to. I am struggling bad and don’t know how to unstruggle. I never needed rescues at previous DSP and was done early. i’m doing so bad and so behind at the new DSP I can’t even take breaks or use the bathroom or it will put me further behind. I have been a DA since November, and was very confident in myself in my job description. Now I am feeling overwhelmed and defeated.

If it weren’t for a killer urban legend, Tina and I would celebrate Valentine’s Day on the 14th
Honestly, I was enjoying a bit of human company after several hours of driving alone, four years ago. Correction. I was trying to enjoy human company. I couldn't identify what was out of sync about Ernestburgh and its inhabitants so I wrote it off to me being picky. I am picky. That's why I was looking this far away from home for the location of my much needed warehouse. I wasn't about to spend the money demanded for run down buildings in my hometown. My odometer assured me I was 114 miles from home. In Ernestburgh. Which isn't in my GPS or on any online map I called up.
Cindy the gas station cashier dropped the cash into my hand and wished me a happy day. Then, haltingly, as if going off script and unsure about doing so, she asked, "What brought you here?"
"Good question," I said, jamming the change into my jacket's inside pocket, "I'm in the market for a warehouse, around 1,000 square feet. Anything like that in town?"
"Let the young lady be on her way," a deep voice boomed behind me. My stomach jumped, although I think I remained calm on the outside as I turned around. A tall, muscular man was nodding at Cindy and me. "Don't mind her, Miss, sometimes we forget our manners here, being we all know each other. You know how that is." He chuckled, although his eyes never smiled. To me, he looked smug. I didn't appreciate that.
"Where are my manners?" I laughed, sticking my hand out to start a handshake. "I'm Lydia from the next town over. And you are?"
He stared at my hand for several seconds before taking it in a quick handshake. "Name's Hopper, Miss Lydia, good to meet you. My wife Cora tells me I need to socialize more and work less, but, you know how it is, I'm sure." He released my hand.
He sounded like he looked, smug. Part of me wanted to egg him on. But I took a breath before speaking and told him I was looking for a motel room for the night. His demeanor softened. "The Deu Lake Inn just reopened after renovations. Go right from our parking lot, left at the second stop sign. Ask for Room Number 103. It overlooks the Lake. Hope you're an early riser. Sunrise over the Lake is unforgettable this time of year!"
Ernestburgh didn't have street lights so the stop signs were a little hard to see but I managed to find the dirt road that ended at Deu Lake Inn's parking lot. That clicked for me. If I landed MoonDoor's warehouse here, the Inn and the entire old school vibe of Ernestburgh would be an easy sell to increase tourism. Especially to boomers.
Annie McIntosh greeted me at the front desk and offered me 10 % off on my stay, which I gratefully accepted. Annie called in Enzio Morton to take my 'overnight bag' to my room and make sure the air conditioning was working. I said I wasn't worried, since it was February 9 and I would rather the room was heated. Annie's response was the a/c was just installed and it being such new technology, staff needed to make sure it worked. I chuckled a little then noticed she probably wasn't joking so I stopped, rather awkwardly.
Annie busied herself with paperwork and actively avoided talking to me after that. Knowing that someone named Enzio had to accompany me to my room, I checked out the only photo on the wall. It was a black and white photo of a man who looked eerily familiar. He wore an odd white bucket hat with the brim pushed away from his face. He had dark hair with full, choppy bangs, eyebrows raised over large eyes opened wide, a nondescript nose and mouth open as if he was either talking or gawking.
It hit me: That was Bob Denver, when he was Gilligan from Gilligan's Island, a 1960s sitcom.
A document attached to the photo frame was titled "Official History and Lore of Our Founding Father". It explained 'Captain' Johnny Ernest spent his entire life in Ernestburgh. His parents raised him on their local farm, before the town existed. Deu Lake Inn was built over his family's farm property. He was orphaned at the age of 11 and lived alone for the rest of his life. He spent 25 years building the earliest homes, post office and stage coach station for what became known as Ernestburgh. Since his death, he returns every year to eat the living being he names. The town would not and could not exist without him, according to the document.
What the hell.
"Miss Annie," I asked, unwilling to be taken in by a local prank, "is that all there is to this story?"
Annie lifted her head, smiling widely. "Yes," she said brightly, "that's our Founding Father, Captain Ernest. Once a year he returns, eats whatever living being he names, then he returns to his beloved lake until the next February 10th."
'Eats whatever living being he names.' I felt fear without knowing its origin, something I don't often experience. I turned to face the Inn's entrance so I could avoid both Annie and Captain Ernest. Enzio appeared soon after. He got me to Room 103, confirmed the a/c was good, and I was left on my own for the night.
I opened the sports bag of spare essentials I always left in my vehicle. It stems from having to be prepared to run for my life when I was younger. Some habits are hard to break. It allowed me to change into a t shirt for that night. I grabbed the remote and jumped into bed.
Covers up to my neck, horror movie marathon playing quietly in the background, I was ready to relax. That's when I remembered my odometer. Part of my being picky is me recording my mileage at the end of every journey. My odometer registered exactly 114 miles from home to Ernestbugh. Based on memory, I'd travelled mostly westbound from home. And online maps clearly showed a large, well-known city 40 miles west of my place. Seems likely I would have noticed that city, had it been in my way during my travels.
Also, traveling no more than 50 miles per hour, my trip should have taken two and a half hours, three tops if I slowed down, got stuck in traffic jams or stopped a lot. That wasn't how my drive went at all. I left home at 10 a.m. and drove non-stop until I arrived at Ernestburgh nine hours later, just before 7 p.m.
Once again, what the hell.
I called up my dashcam footage and fast forwarded through the day's journey. There was scenery I recognized, close to home, then about five hours of static, then scenery that I recalled driving into Ernestburgh. The first time I watched it, I didn't believe it. Had to be a technical glitch. The third time I watched it, my muscles tightened for fight or flight. As much as I wanted to leave immediately, I realized I'd do better to wait until morning. I set my phone alarm for 6:45 a.m. and plugged in my phone to recharge, then spent a long time staring at the ceiling.
My alarm rang a bit too early for my liking and I didn't remember setting the ring tone to 'growls and groans'. The time on my phone was 5:45 a.m. so it wasn't my alarm. For a second I attributed the noise to the horror movie marathon I'd selected for the room's TV. Nope. TV must have shut itself off while I was asleep.
I heard it again. A growl, thunderous and a bit muffled, coming from the back of the Inn where my window faced. Expecting an incoming thunderstorm, I opened the curtains a bit and stared for a second or two at a huge bubble sitting on the lake. A face smiled at me from inside the bubble. A face. In a bubble. On a lake. Smiling at me. So much wrong.
After the fastest shower ever, I shoved all my gear into my sports bag and threw on my coat. I ran to the back of the Inn with all my gear and my phone (charge cord still attached, alarm shut off) at the ready. The beach, such as it was, was about a two minute jog from the back of the Inn and extended for quite a bit before meeting the water. There was a large bubble sitting on the water's surface, a significant distance from the shore. This was the same bubble I'd seen out the window. It kept getting larger, as did the face in it.
I was trying to focus my phone's camera when I heard someone speaking behind me. Annie, the front desk clerk, asked if I was ready to check out.
"Um, Annie, do you see that?" I said as gently as I could, pointing at the bubble. As soon as I looked at it, I couldn't look away. Annie didn't answer my question but she did keep talking. She said check out prior to 11:25 a.m. was fine but I had to pay now. I asked her how much and she didn't answer, which prompted me to look directly at her.
The growling started again. Of course it was much louder than I'd heard in my room. Annie frowned but stood firm, hand out, palm up. I looked back at the lake and the bubble had moved much closer to shore, almost touching dry land. It was huge, and the face now had a full body with arms and legs. Still smiling, it pointed at me with its left arm.
My blood ran cold. I heard Annie's voice but couldn't understand the words. The bubble drew ever closer. The growls were so loud, I clamped my hands over my ears but still couldn't stop staring at the face. It seemed so familiar.
Annie might have stopped talking, I don't know. All I could hear with my hands on my ears was muffled growling. I knew she was still there because she had grabbed my right arm with both hands and pulled fiercely. Even so, I kept staring at the bubble that had stopped rolling when it made land.
The growling continued.
Annie tugged until my right hand fell away from my ear. She screamed it wasn't her time as she released my arm. At that time I didn't know if she stayed or left because I was still watching the bubble.
A crack formed, splitting the bubble in half vertically. Within a blink or two, the bubble split open and the growling changed to a low, gravelly human voice. "Annie! Annie McIntosh!" the being said. Its finger no longer pointed at me, but to my right. I felt compelled to glance beside me and sure enough, there was Annie. Her hands were balled up into fists, pushing on her temples. She was crying and shaking, and I felt genuine terror just looking at her.
"Annie McIntosh, it is your time!" the being announced as it took two steps towards her. I'm ashamed to say I felt a brief moment of relief that the being wasn't aiming at me before I realized it appeared to be hellbent on getting Annie. She was now screaming wordlessly, seemingly unable or unwilling to run.
In that moment, two things occurred to me. The being was an exact replica of the black and white photo of the town's founding father. And if the urban legend was correct, 'Captain' Johnny Ernest can only eat one person per year. He names that person before eating them. Since he'd already named Annie, I figured I was safe at least for that year, and tried to distract him. Maybe Annie could escape and live another year.
I screamed at him, "Captain, you're dead, you don't need to eat anymore!" It was the best I could think of at the time. I put my hands on Annie's left arm and tried to drag her away with me. No luck, she felt like she was cemented to the spot.
Meanwhile, Captain Ernest continued to take huge steps towards us. I'm used to living with and around weird things, but this went beyond weird. Gilligan wanted to eat someone and he seemed focused on Annie.
Something in me broke. I screamed I was sorry to Annie and took off at a full run. I didn't stop running until I got to the back of the Inn. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was morbid curiosity, but I had to take one last look back.
Captain Ernest was still at least two of his steps away from her when he grabbed her.
She was still screaming when he dropped her into his mouth.
I folded two ten dollar bills under the phone on the Inn's front desk then jumped into my car and peeled out. When I got to Ernestburgh's main street I turned left. A right turn would have taken me back to Ernestburgh and that was a huge nope for me. As soon as I saw something resembling a freeway, I took the eastbound route and didn't stop until I was home.
The trip home took two hours and added 114 miles to the odometer. My dashcam worked just fine that whole time. The previous day's footage came up as 'corrupted' when I tried to access it. I spent the next four days in bed, waiting for Tina to return from her mother’s.
Tina's mother recovered quickly and Tina came home on day five. She asked me to retrace my steps with her in the car. No matter what we did, we couldn't find Ernestburgh. I searched for obituary notices about Annie McIntosh until Tina said I might be reaching unhealthy levels of 'need to know' when, in fact, I don't need to know. And she was right.
But every February 9th and 10th since then, she and I spend those days together, at home, without guests. We stay in bed, watch our fav horror movies and eat whatever we want. It's our customized version of Valentine's Day.
Author's note: Find me at LG Writes, Odd Directions and Write_Right

On Monday night while I was winning at Code Cragor 3, my fiancée Montana sat next to me folding more of those damn origami cranes. As soon as she finished one, she'd add it to the growing pile on the floor and start again. Fold, fold, fold, flick. Fold, fold, fold, flick. She'd been doing this since I proposed a week ago. She said the birds meant “happiness” so they’d be our gift to our wedding guests. I hated those demon birds.
She stopped folding long enough to ask when the town justice was showing up on Thursday. She meant for our wedding. Except I hadn't booked the justice. I said I left a lot of messages and didn’t get a call back. That was sort of true, I did leave a message at the town court. I left a wrong number for them to call back. She didn’t need to know all that, though.
She said I was too relaxed about this, like I didn’t want to get married. I didn’t, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. Last week she said she wasn’t going to keep cooking and cleaning unless I proposed. Well, she cooks, she cleans, why would I want her to leave? I proposed. I didn’t “set a date.”
Montana doesn’t like when I don’t answer her. She started flicking birds at me. I kept gaming. Flick, flick, flick. I don’t remember how many she flicked at me before I called her uncle, Sam Orrs. He’s the mechanic for our town manager. Uncle Sam had the connection I needed to ’prove my love and commitment’.
With Montana listening to every word, I described a bunch of phone calls I never made. I laid it on thick for over an hour. The overwhelming incompetence of town court staff infuriated Uncle Sam. He promised he’d work it out with the town manager and call me back Tuesday afternoon.
As soon as I hung up, Montana started talking again. Something about her ‘wedding jeans’ and how we had to get the marriage license in the morning. That killed my interest in finishing Code Cragor 3. As I turned off the console, she asked if her ‘wedding jeans’ made her look fat.
I said yes.
She left the house holding three pairs of shoes and two large overnight bags. She said to call her at Uncle Sam’s when I was ready to get the license.
As soon as her Uber turned the corner, I dumped several handfuls of those demon birds into our trash can. There were so many of them, I couldn’t fit the lid on. Oh well. I was sure most of them would stay in the can until the next trash collection day, whenever that was.
Although I went to bed right after that, I had trouble staying asleep. I hoped Montana couldn’t sleep either, so she’d come back right away.
Uncle Sam’s text-a-thon woke me at two o’clock the next afternoon. He said Montana was fine and he had "worked it out" with the town manager. He also said sit tight and wait for more. Who knows what old people mean when they text. I microwaved hot dogs, finished a bag of chips and tore through three rounds of BulletFold (new release!) before going back to sleep.
A couple of hours later, a weird noise woke me. My neighbor was sanding their floors. Roar, swoosh, roar, roar. Why are people so loud? Close your damn windows. I threw on a Pomplamoose playlist, extra loud, and held Montana’s pillow over my head until I got back to sleep.
That worked well until I woke up hungry and in the dark. Now my neighbor was doing something swooshy and crunchy. Why are people so damn loud? Close. Your. Windows.
I wandered down to the kitchen for something substantial that didn’t require cooking. Took a while to find it: two boxes of chocolate chip cookies in a cupboard and a stale donut in the fridge. Ate the donut on the way upstairs and ate half a box of cookies before getting back to sleep.
A couple hours later, I’m not sure exactly when but it was still dark, noises woke me again. This time it was my stomach rumbling. I finished the cookies and the bottle of soda I found by my closet doors. Not really filling but I was hoping Montana would smarten up right away and gets back here to cook again.
Wednesday morning I woke up around ten o’clock. Why go downstairs when I could eat in bed like a king? Okay, my emergency stash of chips wasn’t as filling as a full breakfast, but Montana hadn’t moved back yet. I watched TV until I couldn’t hear it over the sounds of my stomach grumbling, then I went down to the kitchen again. There was nothing to eat without cooking it. I made toast with peanut butter and took it, with a can of soda to my sofa.
After a couple hours of BulletFold, I still heard grumbling. It was still quite dark outside. There was nothing else to do so I went to sleep on the sofa, clutching a pillow over my head to block out noises.
This morning, I woke up hungry again. Montana was being stubborn and, in a way, that suited me just fine. If she stayed stubborn for 24 more hours, we’d miss the “wedding date” she wanted, and we’d have to start all over again. But I couldn’t wait to eat so I ordered from EatFleet, whose motto is “Delivery half an hour or half off.” With nothing else to do, I waited by the door. Twenty-eight minutes in, my phone rang. I was sure it was delivery, begging for an extra minute or two.
How wrong I was. The driver said she was outside my place and had left the bags on my front walkway. She said she couldn’t get past the birds. I said bullshit. I couldn’t hear any birds and I was waiting at the door.
The driver insisted hundreds of birds were surrounding my house. She made it clear she’d delivered on time and brought the bags as far as she could, meaning no discount.
Then she added one more weird factor: She said my house looked just like it did on local news. That was it, she ended the call. I was so angry, I didn’t want to throw open the door and risk losing my temper at her. Instead, I went to the closest window to see if I could at least describe her car to the cops.
I pulled back the curtains and saw – white. Hundreds of white origami cranes were pressing against the window. I couldn’t see the ground or the sky. This made no sense.
I ran upstairs to the bedroom window, hoping to see where the pile of birds ended, and how far across the front they went. The birds didn’t stop. There were birds past the top of the second floor windows and birds at every window, front and back of the house.
Remembering the delivery driver’s words about local news, I turned on the bedroom TV. Local news was showing drone views of my house. My house, covered by white demon birds. Reporter Gary Moovilon was right outside my house. He called me 'home owner, Dirk T Wadder.' The jerk said my name like it was Dirty Water. He said I'd broken off my engagement with less than a week’s notice. What was a rejected bride-to-be supposed to do, he went on, except get revenge?
I had suggestions. She could calm down and stop obsessing about getting married. But Gary didn’t even bother to come to my door. He wondered if a helicopter had dumped thousands of birds on the roof. He called me Dirk T, saying it like Dirty. He was clearly doing it on purpose. I decided to sue him and the station. He wondered how I managed to sleep through the noise of a helicopter. He tried to talk to my neighbors about his ideas. No one wanted to get on camera.
I didn't hear any such thing. And even if there was a helicopter, how did the birds stay in place? Did someone apply glue to each bird, or are they magnetic, or -- who cares. Less thinking, more action. I ran downstairs to start Operation Remove the Birds.
Since I was doing this during daylight, it would be best to at least pretend I was going to recycle all that paper. My hands were shaking and I realized my breathing was shallow. Last time I felt like this I was seven years ago and had just finished watching A Nightmare on Elm Street. I haven’t been seven in – a lot of years! -- no adult should be scared of paper birds, c’mon now!
It took half an hour but I found the box of recycling bags Montana got a few months back. I stuck a few bags under my arm and grabbed the broom before returning to the front door and turning the handle.
Nothing happened.
I pushed my full weight against the door.
Nothing happened.
I don’t know how much thousands of origami cranes weigh but I do know it was enough to stop me from opening my door. For a second I thought about trying my first-floor windows, but all three of them open out. If I couldn’t push a heavy wooden door into the birds, there was no way I would risk pushing glass into them.
I ran to the bedroom window -- it opened up, not out -- and pulled a fistful of the little bastards inside. The rest of the wall should have collapsed.
It didn’t.
I grabbed more of them. I pushed against the birds that remained.
The wall or birds stayed in place.
Something was very wrong. A wall of paper birds couldn’t be stronger than me, could it? There are things that defeat paper. Like water! I dumped out the bedroom trash can and filled it with cold water. When I got within throwing distance of the window, I picked up the can with both hands and aimed for the opening.
Water went everywhere. It made no difference. I pushed, poked and pulled at birds that were wet and unmovable. I only stopped because paper dust caused my eyes to tear up. I mean, that had to be it, no way I was crying at the thought of being trapped forever.
A man knows when it’s time to admit defeat. I called Montana's Uncle Sam and asked for help. He said he had proof Montana hadn’t left his house so this wasn’t his problem. Even if it was, he said, he didn’t know what to do. He said to call emergency services.
Emergency services said they came here after they saw my house on lunch time news. They soaked the birds with fire fighting foam. The foam didn’t make any difference. They said don’t cook anything until I can get air flow in the house again. I said I can’t get food delivered through the birds. They said good luck and hung up.
I went online for two hours and couldn’t find anybody who’s been trapped like this. By this time, my throat felt like it was on fire and my eyes were producing extra water to put out the flames. That’s when I realized I was dying. I was going to starve to death, if I didn't run out of air first.
I called Montana's Uncle Sam again. I didn’t care if he got a helicopter to remove the roof, just get me out. I didn’t care if I had to wash his car every week for the rest of my life, just get me out. I begged, I pleaded, I told him I would do whatever he wanted me to do, just get me out of here!
He was direct. “I want YOU,” said Uncle Sam, “to marry Montana, today.”