#for now enjoy this raw straight-out-of-my-brain-box version
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19. What are you trying to achieve here? 😢
hiii wazo, thanks for the prompt! 💖
I meant to only write a ficlet for this, but then I got super inspired <3 and made myself very sad in the process 🥲 hope you enjoy!
It had started with Ian randomly quizzing him about some math problem or another. Mickey easily gave him the solution, promptly rolling his eyes at the genuinely impressed look on the red-headed dork’s face.
Of course, it must have actually started some time before then for Ian, since the kid never really did anything randomly. But Mickey, for his part, was completely lost on what Gallagher was doing with these questions.
At first he thought Ian just needed some help with all the dumb classes he was taking in order to get into West Point. That seemed to Mickey like a reasonable enough explanation. If he was honest with himself, he really didn’t mind Ian wanting his help with that stuff, as dumb as he thought the whole army thing was.
Or as dumb as he thought school in general was, for that matter.
But at some point Mickey had figured out that the increasingly complicated math questions had nothing to do with Ian needing to learn all about trigonometry, or whatever the fuck.
Especially since, apart from the goofy grin on the guy’s face every time Mickey gave the correct answer to a question, Ian didn’t really react in any way that could make Mickey think he had just helped Ian learn anything.
When Ian studied, he got focused as fuck. Mickey watched him when they were in the store–Ian sat at the till with his books while Mickey skimmed through a magazine, trying to stave off boredom as he waited for Ian to take a break so they could fuck in the back room or something.
It was impossible to distract Ian when he was that focused. He might ask Mickey a quick question–sporting an adorable (shut up), confused frown on his face signaling he was totally lost on whatever he had just been reading–but then he would just as rapidly go back to his books, face serious and concentrated as ever.
Eyes on the prize and all that. Determined motherfucker.
So no. This was different.
It had nothing to do with whatever Ian was studying, Mickey was sure of it.
It kind of bugged him not to know what Ian was up to, but he let it go, mostly–except for raised eyebrows and a look on his face that clearly said The fuck you playin’ at? Ian’s only response was to smile even bigger.
At the end of the day, it was just another way in which Ian could be weird sometimes. It was harmless. It was fine. Plus, Mickey liked the attention, liked to see that dumb look on Gallagher’s face. Whatever. Sue him.
Over that summer, though, at some point the goofy and impressed smiles started to come accompanied by actual spoken-out-loud compliments.
You’re really good at this stuff, Mick. Wow, I couldn’t have worked that out in a million years! And you just did that math in your head, that quick? Holy fuck, you’re a genius, Mickey were all things that were coming out of Gallagher’s mouth, as if Mickey’s world didn’t shift on its axis every time Ian said something nice about him.
He didn’t know how to react. He hated blushing, for obvious fucking reasons, but it seemed like his face was constantly intent on betraying him on that point. He forced himself not to say anything, since he found that if he tried, all that would escape his lips would be embarrassing as shit stammering.
So he mostly just ducked his head as quickly as he could and muttered a short Fuck off, Gallagher under his breath every time Ian paid him a compliment on his math skills. Or, well, anything really.
The thing was, he knew he was good at that stuff. Always was, against all odds, considering how little he had gone to school at all in the past several years. Yet he had found himself paying begrudging attention to those few math classes he attended, simply because–well, he liked that shit. He understood that shit. It came natural to him. He put it into practice almost every day, in the dealings he was involved in because of his father.
So unexpectedly, with very little book-learning to account for it, yeah. He was good at math. Really good.
Getting praise for it, though. That was fucking weird. He certainly hadn’t gotten it from his third grade math teacher–and that was probably the last time in his life Mickey tried in school. She had taken one look at him at the beginning of the year and decided he was a no-good Milkovich, pure and simple. How could someone like him possibly be worth teaching math to, even if he did seem to be unusually good with numbers?
Not that Mickey was used to being praised about anything, by anyone. Well, his mom was kind to him when he was a kid, as far as he could remember. But she was also not there most of the time, or was out of it when she was. Sweet words, and even songs, would come out of her mouth, but the look behind her eyes was vacant. She barely ever knew Mickey or any of her other kids were in the room when she was in one of those states. Which was most of the time.
No. Gallagher is without a doubt the first person to say a kind word to Mickey and mean it. There’s an earnestness in his face that cannot be denied, and that scares Mickey shitless. He doesn’t know what to do with it.
That’s why, one day, Mickey snaps.
Ian has been quizzing him on all these math problems he apparently found online–one question after the other, beaming like a little overexcited kid when Mickey quickly works out the answer, every single time.
Mickey’s starting to feel a little on edge, all the questioning making him feel a little dizzy, like he’s being interrogated by the fucking cops or something. Like so much is riding on his answers, but he’s not really sure why he should be this nervous in the first place.
It all comes to a head when Ian starts excitedly talking about how Mickey should take some advanced math classes at the local community college, should get a fucking certificate or something to attest his skills, and that could maybe in the future lead to–
“Just fucking stop!” he yells, slamming his palms on the counter in front of him. His breathing is labored, erratic. He feels on the edge of something–something scary–so he holds onto his rage instead.
“This little goddamn fantasy world you’re planning for me ain’t never gonna fuckin’ happen. I’m a Milkovich. I’m fucked for life, remember? The sooner you get that through your damn skull, the better. Who the fuck do you think you are anyway, to know what’s fucking best for me?! You’re not my fucking family, we don’t owe each other shit. What are you trying to achieve here?”
He finally stops for breath, his mouth gaping open as he sets aside his fury for a moment to take in Ian’s reaction to his tirade. Ian’s lips are pursed, his jaw tight and his shoulders rigid. But what really hits Mickey like a swift kick to the stomach is how wet and red-rimmed his eyes look.
And Mickey knows what it feels like to hold your tears at bay like that. Until it physically hurts. Until all you want to do is scream.
Mickey can’t stand the sight a minute more. He lowers his head, uses his palms to push himself away from the counter and then to shove open the door of the store, marching out of there as fast as his legs will allow him.
He feels a little wetness in his eyes. Shakes his head to try and get a fucking grip of himself. It’s fine. He’s fine.
Gallagher was annoying the fuck out of him, and he just snapped. Simple as that. Doesn’t mean anything. No need to fucking whine about it like a little bitch.
The image of Ian’s hurt expression comes rushing back to his mind’s eye with a vengeance, and Mickey wipes a frantic hand down his face. As if that’s going to do anything. As if it’s going to erase what he can’t unsee, what he can’t help feeling deep in his soul.
He’s walking down the street, no real destination in mind, his body as wild and directionless as his brain at the moment.
It’s fine. Tomorrow he’ll go back to the store, and everything will be fine. He knows he should probably apologize, but he also knows he won’t. Ian will forgive him anyway, hopefully. He’s sweet like that. Mickey just did the verbal equivalent of spitting in his face and kneeing him in the groin, but Ian will understand, eventually. He always does somehow.
Mickey hates himself. Hates his life, hates his fucking family, hates this whole goddamn existence. Hates that he wants that shit Ian was talking about, but can’t afford to want it. Hates that he can never have the things he wants.
After walking for about an hour, smoking one cigarette after another, he finds himself going into one of the abandoned buildings he and Ian have met up in a few times.
He needs a familiar, quiet place. To think. Maybe to dream a little. To daydream about a different life for a bit–one where he could have the things he wants–before going back to his real one.
He sits on the roof of the building, watching the sun set, blowing plumes of smoke towards the sky.
Mickey closes his eyes. He pictures red hair, green eyes, freckles. A blinding smile, directed at him. A soft gaze full of fondness. Big hands holding his face, long fingers carding through his hair. Strong arms squeezing him in a tight embrace.
Keeping his eyes shut, he can feel it all. This intense certainty that he can do whatever he wants in his life. Endless hope and reassurance coming from his favorite person–someone he loves completely, and who loves him in return, standing steadily at his side. The freedom to be who he is and to do what makes him truly happy.
A future where he–Mickey Milkovich, son of Terry Milkovich–is not fucked for life after all.
A world full of love and possibilities.
#ian x mickey#gallavich#gallavich fic#shameless fanfiction#my fics#angst#set in s2#pov mickey#the fact i've written this whole thing today is astounding to me considering how little i've written in months#i've actually completed a one-shot from start to finish! yay!#this will be coming to an ao3 near you as soon as i get it betaed#for now enjoy this raw straight-out-of-my-brain-box version
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you really should not enable me like this… if this ask turns into a mess, it’s because i’m currently in uni-finals-hell and my brain is short-circuiting.
but since you asked, i will say that future!fic (or the concept at least) ticks off a lot of boxes that i love in story telling. i love stories that centre around themes like returning to your past when you’re older, more world-weary; stories where a character spent so long trying to recapture a specific feeling or memory or moment, only to return to the source and try to build something there instead. or alternatively, realizing that now you finally have the road map to where you need to go, but you’re out of time and now your only choice is to either cauterize your wounds or pick at them forever, thus never letting them heal. “I could follow you to the beginning / Just to relive the start / Maybe then we’ll remember to slow down / At all our favourite parts” (yes, i’m a taurus. yes i like the idea that even when everything changes, nothing every changes. fight me.)
i also love when a story is about two characters with a shared history meeting again under radically different circumstances. the drama and potential is soo much fun to play with. because like… ‘i knew you once but i don’t know you now. i’m trying to overlay the image of past you onto this new present version of you, but the pictures don’t quite manage to line up properly’. (kind of obsessed with the potential imagery of like. future!fic yzvr dancing around each other and not saying what needs to be said, but then yuzuru secretly accompanies javi to the rink for practice one day — because it’s been too long since yuzuru has been on ice and he’s going a little stir crazy — and then they just. fall back into doing their tcc stroking exercises side by side without even having to think about it. they’re at their most honest when they’re on the ice… anyways!)
and the idea of coach!javi with a rebellious preteen skater of his own is so ?? good?? because idk if this is where you were going with this, but i immediately thought ‘wouldn’t it be funny if his student kind of reminded him of yuzuru’. like they’re just this hyper-intense kid with huge dreams and so much raw talent — and he’s not in any way a carbon copy of yuzuru, but sometimes the parallels are a little too close for comfort. like, javi is Not a morning person but he has no choice but to become one, because this kid will literally show up outside the rink at six in the morning on a saturday and just wait there until javi arrives. the kid is still in juniors, but that means nothing because javi sees them throw themselves into an unauthorized quad lutz during practice one day and he’s like oh my god. this is why brian started losing his hair.
(please indulge me for a minute here) can you imagine this tiny spanish skater meeting yuzuru (maybe they’re just nosy and maybe yuzuru asks to meet javi’s student idk), and with all the unearned boldness of a preteen just goes: ‘i want your back counter 3A.’ and yuzuru (still a menace even after all these years) is like ‘and why is that?’ — the kid, with a perfectly straight face says, ‘because it’s the hardest entry into an axel jump, and only the best skaters can pull it off. i want to be the best. please teach me your jump.’ … this is objectively ridiculous but i think it’s such a fun trope when older characters see themselves in younger characters
this ask is getting long and nonsensical, so i’m going to stop here. i do really love the concept of this fic and i’m soo pleased to hear you enjoyed my other ask about it :3 as always i really enjoy hearing your thoughts and i’ll continue to enable you unless you tell me otherwise! before i go, i wanted to say i listened to ‘nothing new’ (taylor swift) and ‘this is my trying’ (taylor swift) and ‘touch’ (sleeping at last) back to back to get in the right mood to talk about this fic and i made myself sad lol — have a lovely day 💞
anon your novel-length asks are my sole reason to live these days! never apologize for them! in the middle of finals too ahhhhhh good luck!!!!!!
also i listened to 'nothing new' (from the vault, with phoebe bridgers) for the first time and started SOBBING and still recovering from this experience rn so allow this reply to be messy im so sorry!!!
first thing. we should write this fic together hear me out. javi waking up at 6am bc of a lil skating gremlin that reminds him of yuzu!!!!!! please!!!!!!! the axel interaction with yuzu!!!!! AHHH!!!!! i pictured the kid as both a yz and a javi avatar -- absolutely unhinged in a yuzu way, but with way less control, and terrible with press in a javi way. i kinda imagined this lil gal with box-dye hair & heavy eyeliner in a sasha way? going viral or something for slapping another girl in the face at a comp or whatever kdfjkfj and flipping off cameras! so javi's teachings to her could involve. managing relationships with your rivals djfjhfj.
'nothing new' and 'this is me trying' are PEAK what i imagined yuzu's arc/mindset to be in this fic you NAILED it im speechless. literally every single line of TIMT could be said be yuzu . like im sorry but. the whole first verse. "I didn't know if you'd care if I came back / I have a lot of regrets about that" and "I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere" and EVERY word. and NW fucked me up. "How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22?" HOW INDEED. "I wonder if they'll miss me once they drive me out" ISN'T THIS YUZU ABOUT THE ISU IM -- yeah. so his arc would be acceptance that things can end, acceptance that you can't control everything, that you have to let go of things and of to let go of the impression that things could have gone differently if you were even more perfect in your past/if you didn't make the mistakes you made.
now javi. his arc would all be about OWNING UP to desires and wishes. like. ok hear me out. i feel like with the yuzu/javi dyad (2015-2018) there was this heavy portrayal of yuzu being the fighter and javi being the laidback one, just happy/lucky to be there, riding the wave, not really caring about it all. like idk. always arriving late to practice -- it's way easier to accept loss when you know you haven't given it your all, isnt it? like (this is projecting, all of this is) this mindset makes you a lot more chill with missed opportunities -- even relationship-wise (eyes emoji) -- but at some point you're losing a lot, you're losing too much by not investing yourself fully in the things you care about, by not even VOICING how much you care about these things. so i could see the lil gremlin skater being on the verge of quitting skating, or returning to an old coach, bc javi never explicitly states that he wants her there, that he thinks they could make a great team and that he believes in her and will fight for her. and that would parallel our fave missed connection -- YUZU, bc it's NEVER TOO LATE TO MAKE THINGS RIGHT AND TO GO IN FULLY IF THAT'S WHAT YOU WANT! and it's cheesy and it's beautiful and it's hopeful and it's all about cauterizing wounds yes don't @ at me this is a feel good fic.
you made yourself sad thinking about this fic??? NO. listen to times like these by EDEN!!!!! this is the vibe!!! HOPE AND LIGHT AND SPANISH SUNSETS AND GOLDEN WHEAT FIELDS AND WIND AND SEA CLIFSSIDES OK
GOD i have so much more to say but this is getting RIDICULOUS i should just write the thing!!!???!! ah!
i feel like i havent covered a THIRD of what i want to answer to you fgkfjgkfjg sorry my brain is scrambled like eggs.
I'M A TAURUS TOO ANON IS THIS WHY WE'RE VIBING SO MUCH? taurus szn is JUST starting FASTEN YOUR SEATBELTS
#thank you so much for your thoughts aaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!#list of random things i want in this fic for no reason :#yuzu taking up knitting to fill in the wifi-less days at the cottage#knitting rage-fueled scarves and gloves and them being super ugly and javi wearing them and kids at the rink being like : they're ugly.#javi : are they? yuzuru hanyu knitted that. take back your words#the top of a dramatic cliffside 20 min walk away the only place to catch data#the son of the old lady who takes care of the cottage to be a tractor driver and an absolute hunk and not speaking a word of english#and both javi and yuzu lowkey simp for him because he does all the hard field and garden work#but javi hating to leave the place when he knows the son is going to come that day bc he knows yuzu will flirt with him and can't stand it#mmmmm and for now that's it. list might grow#ILY ANON#ask#asks#future fic au
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Emily VanCamp On Reprising Her Role As Sharon Carter And Those Power Broker Theories
Sharon Carter’s dark, bitter, and vengeful return in ‘The Falcon and the Winter Soldier’ could mean many things—or nothing at all.
You’re always one decision away from a totally different life, and that rule applies doubly in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. A simple choice in the heat of the moment can have grave consequences for our beloved heroes; Peter Quill punching Thanos just as Iron Man and Spider-Man almost pull the Infinity gauntlet off the villain’s hand is a hotly debated Twitter topic every other week. The current Marvel conflict on everyone’s tongue? Why on Earth is Sharon Carter (Emily VanCamp) an enemy of the state, when the Avenger who got her in this mess in the first place is roaming his past life worry-free?
Last we saw Sharon, she was the wide-eyed, determined Agent 13 of S.H.I.E.L.D. and a CIA operative whose loyalty to Steve Rogers/Captain America (Chris Evans) prompted her to defy the Sokovia Accords and steal Cap’s shield and Falcon’s wings from the government. Her allegiance to Steve landed her a kiss from the Avenger but not without controversy: Sharon is the grandniece of Peggy Carter, Steve’s true love and the woman he traveled back in time to be with at the end of Endgame. Sharon’s blink-and-you’ll-miss-it romance with Steve was just as short-lived as her residence in the MCU timeline, but thanks to the newest Disney+ series, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Sharon gets a second life—just not the one the former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent envisioned.
When we meet Sharon in episode 3, titled “Power Broker,” the glow of the woman who longed to live up to her grand-aunt’s accomplishments is eclipsed by a dark cloud. She’s traded in her button-up shirts for hoodies and operates as an art thief out of a sprawling mansion in the eerie fictional town of Madripoor. She hasn’t spoken to her family members in months. When Sam reminds her he was also on the run, she reminds him, “Was. Is. Big difference.” She’s cynical, bitter, and vengeful, which apparently turned her into a stone-cold killer. She murders three bounty hunters with a steel bar and darts a knife into the shoulder of another. Sharon Carter is long gone, her one driving force the desire to be pardoned. Who is this new person? Well, Marvel devotees have their theories. Ahead, Emily VanCamp talks reprising her role as Sharon Carter, those Power Broker theories, and more.
Let’s go back to your Marvel introduction. What qualities initially drew you to the character of Sharon Carter?
I loved her dedication and devotion to Cap [and] to the cause. She was in this bloodline of agents, and this kick-ass woman who was a little bit more idealistic at the time. Now some of those qualities have been stripped away, unfortunately, based on her circumstances and the sacrifices she made. She’s wondering whether or not it was all worth it. She feels abandoned.
Knowing what she knows now, especially with Cap out of the MCU timeline, do you think Sharon would have made a different choice in Civil War?
I don’t think so. One of the things I love about her is her integrity. And to her, that’s what she believed in and that’s what she thought was the right thing to do. So I think it’s less about Steve and more about her devotion to the cause at that time. No, I don’t think she would go back and do anything differently. Do I think that the character would have liked a little bit of help, with all these other characters being pardoned, and she’s just sort of been left on the run as this fugitive? Yeah, I think her reaction to it would have changed. But I don't think she would have changed her choices.
At the end of Avengers: Endgame, Sam and Bucky were able to get closure from Captain America. Do you ever wonder what closure would look like for Sharon, had she had the opportunity?
I’m sure she would have wanted that, but I think that she's moved on from that. Now she just wants to be pardoned to get her life back. That ship has sailed in so many ways for Sharon, and we don't even really address [Steve and her] in the show. It’s so much more about where she is now and how to move forward and make that deal with Sam: Listen, I’ll help you out if you can get me out of here. [Sam and Bucky] are on this mission and she's reluctantly helping them, and that’s what the dynamic is now. Does she want to? Probably not. But is it her ticket out? Probably.
What did you have to understand about her mindset now in order to play her in this new phase?
I think it was just important for me, one, that we address all this time that’s passed and kind of discuss, “Where has she been? What has she been doing?” And we talk about it a little bit in episode 3, that she’s been hustling and dealing in stolen art and living in Madripoor. You get the sense that things have not been easy on Sharon. And she’s definitely made her way and she’s thrived in this environment, but it’s not an environment she would have chosen. She was sort of, in her mind, left behind, so there’s a chip on her shoulder that I think it would be really hard to get rid of at this point. And she even says at one point, “The superhero thing is a joke.” She’s definitely lost that kind of idealistic, young agent mind.
How did you prepare for that change in her?
I think it’s great to dig a little bit deeper into all these characters and their perspectives. And with Sharon, it’s so much about her resentment and her tenacity. She’s thrived in this new environment, even though it’s not ideal. So that’s something that’s carried through in her personality. She didn’t lose that. But I think just her goals, her thoughts have just changed.
What is a Marvel training session like? Sharon killed so many bounty hunters by herself.
It was months of prepping even for that sequence in episode 3. Sharon doesn’t have superpowers, so everything is just with her bare hands. We wanted it to look as gritty and raw and real as possible, so we trained a lot. Every day that I wasn’t shooting Falcon or The Resident, I was in that training center going over choreography, doing the footwork, doing boxing, doing jujitsu, all the things that I need to do to prep my body and mind for those sequences. You hope that when you get there to shoot it, that muscle memory and that adrenaline kicks in, and off you go. But Marvel is amazing at preparing you for those moments. I was welcomed to go and train every moment I could, and I did. But to have that available is just such a gift, especially when you've got a sequence like that, where you can't really hide from anything. It’s just you.
Sharon’s dark return reminded me of your Revenge character Emily Thorne. Do you prefer these darker roles over characters like Nicolette in the soapy drama The Resident?
They’re all so different. I think that’s part of what I like—just embodying totally different characters. Revisiting Sharon was very cool because we get to see her, as you said, in this totally different light. I don’t have any sort of preference. It was definitely difficult because last year I was doing Falcon and Winter Soldier and The Resident at the same time, so sometimes getting home at night I was a little bit screwy in my brain as to where I was headed the next day and what mind frame I should be in. But it’s not to say I enjoy playing one more than the other. It was fun to get back to Sharon, though, and see this new, kind of hardened version of her.
What was it like shooting both The Resident and Falcon in the middle of a pandemic?
Even before the pandemic, it was hard because it’s two different characters, one of them being very, very physical, so even that in itself was a challenge. Then the pandemic happened, and luckily I didn’t have to do both at the same time. We only had about a month left on Falcon and Winter Soldier, and I finished that up and then went straight into The Resident. It was nerve-racking going back to work after months of being isolated and at home, but also really nice to have a sense of normalcy. Even though it’s not normal at all on set anymore, it’s nice to be around my colleagues, to be at work. We’re kind of lucky to be able to do that and just to deliver new content. Everyone’s streaming everything Marvel. It's made our jobs a little bit more challenging, but also more rewarding in many ways because we’re able to deliver that joy.
When you pay close attention to Falcon’s episode titles, they’ve been very descriptive of each episode. So when the third episode was titled “Power Broker” and we see Sharon return, Marvel theorists ran with it.
We see Sharon return. We see Zemo return. It’s kind of like, yeah, episode 3 was always a big blast of so many things. There’s a ton of theories going around.
Have you ever envisioned Sharon going to the dark side, going against the heroes? What do you make of those theories?
Sharon’s always been this kind of idealistic personality, but I also think there are so many gray areas now between heroes and villains, and that’s something these Marvel shows are really exploring more in-depth. I think anyone at this point is capable of anything. There are so many characters that haven't even appeared yet. There's a lot going on in these six episodes. So for me, I don’t want to say too much because there’s just so much more to come.
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Gust and Piper Beginnings - Pt. 7
Here’s the next part of the story! Please enjoy!
You can read the first the other parts here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
I’m also posting the story here on AO3!
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Gust collapsed on the couch in the middle of the living room. He muffled his groans in one of the decorative pillows that Ginger had just embroidered earlier that month. It was light blue with pale pink flowers. She’d been so proud of how it turned out. Now, he was using it to smother himself. Ginger only spared him a glance as she turned the page of her book. “Rough day?” He grunted in response, basking in the cool fabric of the pillow. “I thought you were done helping at the Harbor? You guys caught up, didn’t you?”
“Oh, we did,” Gust rolled on his back, still cradling the pillow to his chest. “But I was helping Piper today.”
“Piper?” This seemed to catch her attention. She closed her book and set it off to the side, eyes on him. He tried not to squirm under her calculating expression. “That’s a surprise. Why were you helping her?”
“She needed help,” he shot her an unamused look, “why is my helping her a surprise?”
Ginger smirked. “No offense, but unless you’re assisting me, the word helpful doesn't normally apply to you.” Gust frowned. He couldn’t really argue with her. She was right. He only ever doted on Ginger. No one else warranted or deserved his attention, well until now. “So what did Piper need help with? You look ready to keel over.”
“Piper hurt her ankle.” Gust stifled a yawn and curled up against the arm of the chair. “She can’t walk on it, so I offered to help her so she could keep working over the next few days. I don’t know how she does it.”
He really didn’t. He was at her workshop at the crack of dawn and she put him straight to work. He never anticipated that Piper, laid back and fun loving, would be such a hardass when it came to her craft. She never showed it. He emptied and filled machines. Then she sent him out to gather raw material that she couldn’t go out and gather herself. He’d turned his nose up at the pickaxe she’d given him, but he soon realized that it was the only way to get any of the things she’d asked for. His arms were still aching and a part of him doubted he’d be able to lift them in the morning.
While he did that, she was still working on her long list of commissions at her desk. He had no idea how she managed to juggle gathering her own supplies and making things out of them too. He was exhausted and he’d only been working a day, but this was Piper’s reality. He only got away when he did because he had to come home and watch after Ginger. He couldn’t even fathom what would have happened if he’d stayed longer. One of the Civil Corps members may have had to tote his unconscious body back home.
“How did she hurt herself?”
Gust waved her off. “In the old WOW Industries or something. We bumped into each other while I was searching for hibiscus flowers and she offered to help.” Ginger only gave a solemn nod at that. She knew how important those flowers were. He clutched the pillow a little tighter to his chest, like it would stop his heart from pounding out of his chest. “I should have said something sooner, but she insisted on helping me. So, I decided to help her with her endeavors for the next few days. That’s all.”
“Is that all?” Ginger cocked her head to the side and a small smile flutter across her face. She looked at him with such a gentle expression. He didn’t know what it meant. It made him uncomfortable. “That’s very noble of you. I’m sure Piper is relieved to have your help while she’s injured.”
“I was barely any help.”
Ginger only chuckled. “Did she ask you to come back tomorrow?”
Gust shook his head and rolled onto his back. He watched the ceiling fan rotate lazily overhead. He traced the orbit with his eyes. “She didn’t have to,” he admitted after a moment, “I told her I would help her until her ankle was better and I plan on keeping that promise.”
“I like this new Gust.”
He turned his attention back to Ginger, brow furrowed. “What?” Ginger folded her hands neatly in her lap and shrugged. It wasn’t an answer and that was mildly irritating for him. What was that supposed to mean? “I’m not a new Gust.”
“I disagree.” She stood up and tucked her book under the crook of her arm. “I thought something was different about you recently, but after tonight I think I now know what that is.” Gust straightened in his seat. What did she know? Before he could press, she was heading out of the room and towards the staircase. “I’ll let you get some rest. I’m sure it’ll be a long day tomorrow.”
Like that, he was left alone with his thoughts, which was a dangerous place for him to be. He had no idea what Ginger meant. How was he any different? He was still him. He didn’t feel any different. In fact, he felt very much the same and that’s what irritated him. Ginger had to be wrong. He was still Gust. Rude, crass, and standoffish. He found it very hard to believe that anyone would ever like this version of himself.
↢↢↢↣↣↣
“Have you eaten?”
Piper offered a mumbled response as she continued working on Minister Lee’s commission for a batch of new talismans. He wanted enough for the whole town, and she’d been working on them for over two hours. Before that, she’d been hard wiring a new desk lamp for Mei. The goggle marks were still embedded across the bridge of her nose. He doubted she’d taken any breaks between the projects.
This was his third day at the workshop and in that time he’d really seen how Piper operated. It was appalling to say the least. She never took breaks. She rarely stopped for meals. He’d taken it upon himself on more than one occasion to slip her a glass of water, just to remind her to drink something. Still, she worked diligently and she showed no signs of changing her ways. Honestly, he wondered how she’d survived this long without someone to force her to stop and take a breath.
“You need to eat.”
“I’ll order something from the Round Table.”
“Why waste the money? Don’t you have something around here?” He glanced around her workshop. There was a small kitchen in the corner. It had a stove, fridge, and a small sink, all of which looked like they went untouched. “I’ve seen the vegetable garden you keep out back. Don’t you keep any of the produce?”
“I do.” Her fingers worked deftly as they wrapped red cord around another engraved stone. It seemed like a mechanical response at this point, but still she didn’t look up from her work. “But I don't know how to cook. So I normally eat them raw.”
Gust blinked at her in disbelief. “You don’t know how to cook?” He massaged the bridge of his nose and sighed. This woman. If she didn’t know how to cook, how had she not shriveled away to nothing. She really was hopeless. “But you live alone? How have you survived this long?”
“The Round Table,” she tossed another talisman on the pile, “and the unadulterated kindness of Sophie and Emily. Without them, I might have starved.” She grabbed another piece of stone and began carving away at its surface. It’s like they were discussing the weather and not the fact that she wasted all her money on take out.
Gust shook his head at her. “No wonder you can’t afford that next plot of land, you’re wasting your gols on take out.” She only grunted in response, too engrossed in her work to really hear him. He clucked his tongue and made a beeline for the kitchen. He knelt down and opened the cooler box. Hopefully she had something he could work with. He was surprised to find it well-stocked. Meat and fish were neatly packaged on one shelf. No doubt boons from her adventures. She had an array of vegetables from her garden. There were even fresh eggs and milk, no doubt from Emily and Sophie. He rolled his eyes and started pulling ingredients from the fridge. Fine. If she refused to take care of herself, he’d do it for her.
He regarded the splay of ingredients on the counter. Blade fish, meat, palm jujube, and rock salt. He had been craving bacon fish rolls for a few weeks now, but he’d been too busy to find the time to make it. At least now he had an excuse. And he’d be feeding Piper in the process. Two birds with one stone. He swept his hair back into a ponytail and got straight to work.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like? I’m cooking.” Gust didn’t even look up from the frying pan as he laid out the thin strips of bacon. They sizzled softly and the smell of cooked meat was enough to make his mouth water. Normally, he didn’t have much of an appetite, but all the manual labor was making him hungrier than usual.
“Yeah, I can see that, but why?”
“Because it was obvious that you weren’t going to feed yourself.” He sniffed and sprinkled a little rock salt over the bacon. They only needed to be seared before he took them off and rolled them over the blade fish and palm jujube, so he had to keep his attention on the pan. “So I’m making us lunch. You’re going to stop working and we’re going to eat like civilized human beings.”
Piper snorted. “I’m not a child.”
Gust visibly bristled, but he kept his eyes trained on the sizzling pan. Don’t let the bacon burn. That’s all he needed to focus on. He didn’t need to indulge her. But of course, his mouth moved faster than his brain. “Well, then don’t act like one.” He sighed. This happened every time they spoke. “If you’re going to neglect to take care of yourself, someone’s gotta do it.”
Piper had stopped working now. She sat in her chair, knees tucked under her chin as she regarded Gust with pensive expression. “I’ve managed this long, haven’t I?”
Gust rolled his eyes. “Barely. I had no idea it was this bad.” He clucked his tongue and pulled the pan off the heat. “You don’t even know how to cook, ridiculous.” Piper chuckled and spun in her seat, but Gust failed to see the humor. These were fundamental building blocks of staying healthy, how could she just brush them off like they were nothing. It made his heart ache.
They didn’t speak as he busied himself with preparing the rest of the meal. Piper didn’t press and returned back to her work after a minute or two. A comfortable silence settled between them, it almost seemed natural. It was quick work, finishing up the bacon rolls, it was almost second nature for him. Cooking came easy to him. Much like painting, it was a form of creation. Gust always needed to be creating. It’s the only time he ever felt some sense of relief and purpose.
“Time for lunch.”
Neither said anything as they settled around her rickety kitchen table. The front of her coveralls were covered in stone dust, but Gust didn’t bother to comment. The bacon roll was good. It was such a simple recipe, but it always hit the spot every time he made it. Gust couldn’t ignore the way she watched him as he ate. The pensive expression was back as she nibbled at her lower lip. She barely touched her food.
“Are you going to eat or not?”
Piper regarded the plate in front of her, a soft flush blossoming across her cheeks. “I will, I will, but I have a question first.” He hummed around a mouth full of bacon fish roll. He couldn’t imagine a question so dire that she wouldn’t eat, but he stayed quiet. “Why were you looking for the hibiscus flowers?” Gust almost choked on his food. He swallowed thickly and it slid down his throat, settling in his stomach like lead. “Why was it so important that you find them?”
Gust considered her question. He stared down at his plate and the hunger he’d been feeling dissipated. He didn’t doubt that Piper knew about his mother’s death, but he doubted she knew how much her death had affected him. He could tell her, but then he’d be breaking down a wall he’d spent a long time building. He didn’t know if he could bear her condolences or Light forbid her pity. The pitying stares of the town had played a large role in his leaving in the first place. He didn’t want to endure that with Piper, of all people.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“No, no, Iー” he swallowed the lump that was beginning to form in his throat, “it was my mother’s favorite flower.” His voice was small, but firm. He fiddled absently with the watch on his wrist. “I try to gather them while they’re in season, so I can drop some off at her grave for her birthday.”
Piper’s expression softened. “That’s really sweet of you.” She reached across the table and took his hand. “As soon as my ankle is better, I’ll make sure you get those flowers. I promise.” She squeezed and he felt it in his chest. He tried to keep his breath even, but it was a struggle. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” Her fingers slipped away and Gust found himself wishing they hadn’t. He really liked the feeling of her hand in his.
She speared her fork into the fish roll and stuffed it into her mouth. Her eyes rolled back in her head and groaned. “Peach’s pants, this is amazing.”
And just like that, the topic was dropped. She didn’t pry into his affairs. She didn’t force him to talk about his feelings or offer empty condolences. She just let it be. He was so happy, he could have cried. Gust took a shaky breath and turned back to his meal. “Maybe I’ll make something for you again sometime.”
↢↢↢↣↣↣
Gust made her lunch the next day. He was only slightly embarrassed to admit that he’d spent his evening pouring over cooking books to find a recipe Piper might like. Ginger had noticed, but she’d been merciful enough not to comment on it. They were currently seated at her rickety kitchen table. Piper had become much more receptive to taking breaks with the promise of a home cooked meal. He’d settled on salmon fried rice today.
“What do you do for fun?” Piper arched an eyebrow at him as she chewed her food thoughtfully. She’d already devoured half of her plate, which Gust took as a good sign. “I feel like in the time we’ve known each other, you know a lot more about me than I know about you.”
Piper snorted. “And who’s fault is that?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Well, if you’re asking about my frivolous activities, I don’t have a whole lot of time to indulge in them these days,” Piper settled back in her seat, “but I did do boxing when I was back in Barnarock.” He must have done a poor job at hiding the surprise on his face because she took a few jabs at the air in front of her. “I was good too.” She added with a pointed look in his direction and Gust threw up his hands, relenting. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. Piper was pretty firmly built. When he’d carried her back to her workshop, he felt the firm contours of her upper arms.
“But you’re so even tempered?”
“And why do you think that is?” she asked with a crooked smile, “I take out my aggression on Sam when we meet up and spar.” She tapped her temple thoughtfully. “Can’t be losing your temper, if you know you get to kick someone’s ass three times a week.” She shrugged. “It’s therapeutic for me, I guess.”
Gust bit back a smile. “I knew you were able to handle yourself in a dangerous situation,” he gathered another mouthful of rice on his spoon, “but I would have never guessed that you were this well-equipped for the job.”
Piper sighed. “Well, to be honest, I didn’t think those dangerous situations would come with the job,” she cradled her cheek in the palm of her hand, “don’t let them know, but I feel like I’m often doing the Civil Corps job for them these days. Like, why is it always me, ya know? I never see Higgins getting trapped in a cave with ancient bloodthirsty AIs.” She laughed, but it sounded strained and Gust noticed immediately. “But whatever, I’m just glad people can turn to me in a crisis.”
Gust frowned at her. She seemed sincere enough. She prided herself on being dependable, but her usual nonchalance was missing, but he didn’t point it out. Piper didn’t pry into his business, he should extend the same courtesy. “My lips are sealed.” He mimicked the zipping of his lips and Piper laughed. This one sounded far more genuine and it made his heart flutter in his chest. It was worth the internal loathing. Light, that was so lame, he was becoming his father.
“Now, you have to answer my question though.” She leaned across the table and Gust found himself leaning closer as well. Where did you learn to cook? This is amazing.” She gestured to the plate in front of her. “You could give Django a run for his money if you wanted to.”
“I learned when I lived with my Master in Atara,” Gust said simply, “it was an enlightening experience.”
Piper ‘oo-ed’ teasingly as she took a sip of her red tea. He was beginning to think that red tea had replaced the blood in her veins, she drank it so often. “I feel like that’s just a nice way of saying she made you her bitch and had you do all the cooking.” Gust pursed his lips at her, but he made no attempt to correct her. There was nothing to correct. She smirked. “Yeah, I thought so. That tends to be the case with those apprenticeships, you do the bitchwork so your Master doesn’t have to, right?”
“I learned a lot from Vera during my time with her.”
“Well, obviously, look at you. You’re talented and successful,” She waved him off with a swipe of her hand. Gust wanted to argue, but she didn’t give him the chance as she continued, “I just know there’s a lot of hoops to jump through before you actually get to learn something, so more power to you. I consider myself a pretty patient person, but I wasn’t patient enough to deal with that kind of bullshit.”
Gust straightened in his seat. “Wait, did you study in Atara?”
“Study is a strong word,” she smirked around the rim of her glass, “but yes, I tried to gain an education in Atara, but I dropped out after a year or two. Not my proudest moment, but the scholarly life wasn’t exactly my calling.”
“What did you study?” He would have never guessed that she studied in Atara like him. Piper was unintelligent. Quite the opposite, she knew how to hold a conversation and Gust always enjoyed speaking with her. He could admit that to himself now. He enjoyed her company.
“Political science,” another sip of her drink, “I wanted to be on the committee for the Free Cities at one point. Settle conflicts. Help people. Maybe even stop our war with Duvos.” She shook her head. “In short, I was naive and a dumbass. I apprenticed with one of Atara’s political tycoons and realized pretty quickly why things weren’t getting better. No one wanted to put in the effort to make it better, so neither did I. I dropped out shortly thereafter.”
Gust blinked. Politics. Of all the degrees, she’d taken an interest in the field his father so desperately wanted him to study. He supposed irony was cruel like that. He gave her a thin smile. “That is surprising.” He leaned a little closer across the table and she didn’t shy away. He regarded her hands. They were covered in grease and the nails had been bitten down to the nail bed. The hands of a hard worker. “I figured you would have studied carpentry considering your skill set.”
Piper tugged sheepishly at a loose strand of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes. “About that. I actually never considered carpentry before coming to Portia. This was kind of a worst case scenario for me and I was in a pretty desperate place when I made the decision.” Gust frowned at her. She never planned on coming to Portia. They were more alike than he’d thought. “Don’t get me wrong though, I don’t regret coming here now. I’m happier than I thought I’d be.”
Gust swallowed the bitter taste that had risen in his mouth. At least one of them was. “You are?”
Piper nodded and cradled her cheek in the palm of her hand. “There’s a lot of great people in this town, it makes it all worthwhile.” She reached forward and offered him an open palm, he took without a second thought. Grease stains aside, he liked the way her calloused hands felt under his finger tips. He’d found comfort in tracing them with his fingers. “And believe it or not you’re one of them.”
Gust snorted. “A lot of people would beg to differ.”
“Well, those people can pound sand,” Piper said with a shrug, “they don’t get to see the good sides of you.” She looked at him in earnest. It made Gust’s heart swell in his chest. He supposed she had a point. His good sides were often overshadowed by his shortcomings, but he was happy to hear someone had bothered to venture into the shadows to see them. He wasn’t sure if those good sides were worth the effort, but Piper seemed to think so. That was a small consolation at the very least.
He gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand. This time she didn’t let go. “Thank you Piper.”
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reality
When u wear the covid mask to make ya ears kitten like, it makes u not feel all that food appetite u used to when they were straight, the indictment with those people with such earlobes as their rapid anger so white-men want to capitalized on that to make people intermarry with such to bring such kids not to enjoy the delicious foods around esp E-Africa.
With the toilet described below, u can employ the combined harvester mouth to grind the fecal matter b4 pumping it into the sewer system to even not heap but to pump even 4 one person immediately while its not hollow where u aim the feces to fall to the grinder but have an enclosure, either automatic when u sit or in a push pull manner not to allow smell from below into the room. Like in the link below dude, the header
https://www.google.com/search?source=univ&tbm=isch&q=mouths+of+a+combined+harvester+tractor&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiZ-bfEkJXpAhXgA2MBHX8lDeIQsAR6BAgIEAE&biw=1024&bih=632#imgrc=FknKPA36S7ebOM
https://www.explainthatstuff.com/howcombineharvesterswork.html
The starter comps in the link below can be place 4 in a raw connected in a series connection to give 200 volts those of 48 volts while the (1) motor rotating the magnets on each either connected in parallel or series or using a belt with 1 motor to rotate all the 3 other gears without a motor but with magnet on top of those other 3 gears, instead of heaping them (starter comp) above each other like described in the link below or u can use 4 such motors as the former. Just like in the diagram below on wood instead, u tell the devil just like with the alternator generator that was drawn in Kevinelson mondy Facebook a/c which many tried to make to bring confusion in town but now on shops as factory made as alternator generator or no fuel generator. History repeats itself dude and the same indictment we see has started falling on the above. Claimers to be of their tribe to benefit but luckily enough the comp is china made
https://www.google.com/search?q=photos+of+an+engine+head+with+the+cylindrical+pistons&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwjJy7GRkZXpAhVWwIUKHRmbDKQQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=photos+of+an+engine+head+with+the+cylindrical+pistons&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1CERliceGC8emgBcAB4AIABsgKIAbwgkgEIMC4xMi43LjGYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=UGGtXsnjNdaAlwSZtrKgCg&bih=632&biw=1024&client=ms-google-coop#imgrc=62AiHPwJeE5MOM
https://www.jumia.co.ke/epath-3pcs-130-small-dc-motor-with-2mm-shaft-diameter-and-1-to-6-volts-for-model-toys-9797714.html
https://www.jumia.co.ke/generic-1pcs-mini-micro-small-3-phase-wind-turbines-hand-alternator-generator-3v-24v-12v-new-18194523.html
https://www.jumia.co.ke/catalog/?q=magnetic+rods
https://www.jumia.co.ke/robot-mini-bluetooth-wireless-speakers-fmmemorycardusb-25615476.html
The above can even use phone battery like in the links below or the photocopier belt system
https://www.google.com/search?q=mini%20photocopier%20belt%20systemimages&tbm=isch&tbs=rimg%3ACTXdvnNvcWCdImCQr_1v41iwKbbSMlQfltzEW_1uAG0RoBerqKyYa7xgOi6bS68SlmGEjVKxpfWrK11I_1jgq9ua3aPw7cV5BYQcUiqZZgPZfvY8WdwCO0Ua20gSK8HLdZeVzmhans9Acx2fOIqEgmQr_1v41iwKbRGJJSWIClGshioSCbSMlQfltzEWERY1SglsoC-uKhIJ_1uAG0RoBeroR4JcAgV334pgqEgmKyYa7xgOi6RHglwCBXffimCoSCbS68SlmGEjVETkJ0GNipgHJKhIJKxpfWrK11I8RBYP-ElKG2D0qEgnjgq9ua3aPwxHGxdziiM5D1CoSCbcV5BYQcUiqEY0ZrV6R0kltKhIJZZgPZfvY8WcRyRAivLSfEbIqEglwCO0Ua20gSBHYrYsKsi75dyoSCa8HLdZeVzmhEXTh2OEiVzAJKhIJans9Acx2fOIRPLI-n6U0ihNhiNhjPaUPuHU&client=ms-google-coop&hl=en&ved=0CAIQrnZqFwoTCKiVuNKWlekCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAF&biw=1007&bih=615
The starter comp technology described above can be employed in stereos and TV that uses less than 40 volts, 1 such comp placed inside as inbuilt just as the TV with in-built decoder and with Gadgets that use more the 40 volts, i.e Fridges, blender, kettles, washing machine, oven, toasters, cookers can used the above that gives 200 volts, with iron box it will be big so can employ like 2 such above and used many watts small step up transformers, partially big than the normal iron box like in the link below
https://www.google.com/search?q=images%20of%20big%20electric%20iron%20boxes&tbm=isch&tbs=rimg%3ACdZBcnhUd_1MCImCvj8SfyIJzDlXjRCyxSGDYpAefpAOXAFBCCu2AaojmUHfK2BFywqsA2EIFp-EPLiuhIbzZKoZC2cS_1jUFmE6pOzxgGddQfUViIz3zmADEe4fuk64pfHmLNb5vPQQ9vbasqEgmvj8SfyIJzDhGLg0f9VsI0QyoSCVXjRCyxSGDYEcGr6IxUB_1hwKhIJpAefpAOXAFARHn0N59eJG48qEglCCu2AaojmUBHarGOAQJ7DDSoSCXfK2BFywqsAERzFTMBN-7_1lKhIJ2EIFp-EPLisRkqpRxlu6TkEqEgmhIbzZKoZC2RHalmOWYDwLayoSCcS_1jUFmE6pOEbrgn7DW-Z11KhIJzxgGddQfUVgR2Of2cAGWJPYqEgmIz3zmADEe4RGux46kynPPVyoSCfuk64pfHmLNEcznruoavwkyKhIJb5vPQQ9vbasRZjHVlt1sXUthFViGb9FHPvc&client=opera&hl=en-US&ved=0CAIQrnZqFwoTCIjBsKz_lukCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAN&biw=967&bih=641
https://www.expertreviews.co.uk/home-appliances/1405852/best-steam-iron-the-best-steam-irons-to-buy-from-15
Ciara of USA, 50 cent, Knowles and like J-zay of yesterday we know and more are not those personalities rather others of same countenance or those who transforms as the drone they were using underneath as described above fell and no rescue to fall in land but just going down in the space, so they are long dead, if u wanna find out, this the answer those who transfigure into other Animals dont partake sour or bitter things and in-fact is more in African political figure and it should follow suit to avoid the former as u cant get a post if u fail to partake such described above to eradicate that shit once and for good with employing other feasible mechanisms such as Wireless BMI machines which are aim at ya the digits gotten
In-fact with explained in following tumblr a/c of this 1, as Lake Victoria was small and enlarged by making a big tunnel on its main draining to the sea rivers then on-top of the long tunnel, km and more heaped debris more than maybe even 100 meters 4 if the tunnel blocked the water dont over flow immediately but collects at the awasi border (Kendu bay homa bay road), the above was done and its crystal clear u see the lake drained its water in the Indian oceans and if u sturdy the East African Land topology, most likely the lake reached Nairobi, while the national park b4 the white relocated where animals gotten from Nyabondo plateau and transferred so in times futurity hamper the spread of the city 4 the better cause it was a lake land and could take ya to hell if u aint a fervent christian, so that will be their justification in time of judgement, has having an excuse, Jesus with Transfiguration another version to bring out reality. Friend get it straight like in the link below
https://www.google.com/search?q=images+of+long+river+tunnels&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwi6tJK5_5bpAhVH04UKHZyfAiwQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=images+of+long+river+tunnels&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQAzoECAAQQzoCCAA6BggAEAUQHjoGCAAQCBAeOgQIABAYUPTIOViUnDpg6KE6aAZwAHgAgAGMAogB0iWSAQYwLjIxLjSYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=M1uuXvrONsemlwScv4rgAg&bih=641&biw=967&client=opera&hl=en-US#imgrc=V7qOSZjCwZmBqM
Dont discard ya waste in plastic or metallic bottles or anything given to scrap dealership as u can combine such and sell and buy something meaningful 4 people in ya groups or society like motorbikes cause if u do the former u r promoting the bad character of wanting to eat in ya house trukana or Masai blooded who r now able even to bite and eat ya flesh in the midst of getting into ya conversation. Please thwart their motives dude.
Portacabin houses are now cheap, like 1 room goes 4 $200, so b4 the pursuit of processing ya green-card to avoid u being victimized u can buy such prior in rural America to go to instead of shelter or 1 house or school that increases the victimization index. In-fact should be placed in ya process ya green-card procedure with i.e like buying an E-Motorbike to aid u in ya movement in-case blocked. I went, i saw and i conquered the truths to tell ya, so a blessing in disguise. Once in a century appears 1 like Nelson but not always as mostly rarely. Not even ya education will help u at that time, in snow is cumbersome dude, lest u got the above or take a flight back home just like Kebi did homies.
https://www.google.com/search?q=nigeria+portacabinhouses&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwjM6bfplJXpAhVK_IUKHcR5A1sQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=nigeria+portacabinhouses&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1D5dVjChQFggYwBaABwAHgAgAHCAogB2wuSAQcwLjQuMi4xmAEAoAEBqgELZ3dzLXdpei1pbWc&sclient=img&ei=LmWtXsyaM8r4lwTE843YBQ&bih=632&biw=1024&client=ms-google-coop#imgrc=k6XVHoMuSTuNrM
Wasee pigeni rungu, hambiya watu waache kung’edhia, hata peeni kebi motisha apige rung’u, awache kung’edhia ng’edhia tu hapo nyumba, madem ni wengi mno, hata hawo wanajidai madignitary wapige rungu, message from Hamphrey Eteni OF meridian nursing home in Kansas friend with Mike of the same at Via Christi Hospital
If know nothing u need to eat much to make u much fat 4 people to avoid ya as destroy ya brain as well vice versa with investigated sharp people and 1 of the reasons people grows wild over u and some cases police arrest if u eat much yet sharp, they want not, disturbs peoples mind.
Starter comp 4 kitchen that gives 48 volts if u connect 4 in a series connection way gives ya 200 volts rotating the a long shaft inside them with 1.5 V drycell mounted on a slight gear like the toy car wheel system to rotate more fast as finding 2 of such gear where after connecting to rotate on the other end still u find the same connect vice versa on the same end leaving the gear to be rotated by the motor to rotate the shaft cause its soft on that end more than the end connected on the end rotated by that motor on its soft gear part, i mean the part that rotates the wheel, kinda, the shaft can all magnet like the rod inside the radio which wires rolls on, the turning of station part, without placing a step up transformers dude like in the links below, or 8, 24 such below or 16, such 12 volts, Generic 1Pcs Mini Micro Small 3-phase Wind Turbines Hand Alternator Generator 3V-24v 12v. Unless i see i when i can believed as forwarded to me in my Facebook a/c
https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fsteemitimages.com%2F640x0%2Fhttps%3A%2F%2Fsteemitimages.com%2FDQmb35dGSrLrQoH1aErj2rcUBv4x4WnjAuWRNFxV6Yh6z2u%2Fam2.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fsteemit.com%2Fteardown%2F%40proteus-h%2Finside-a-basic-am-fm-radio-receiver&tbnid=HEldBFO7PjMtxM&vet=12ahUKEwjqrbiewpTpAhVB4oUKHYQ2A1QQMyg6egUIARCIAQ..i&docid=8c1JTMtOXgosxM&w=640&h=360&q=images%20of%20parts%20of%20a%20small%20radio&client=ms-google-coop&ved=2ahUKEwjqrbiewpTpAhVB4oUKHYQ2A1QQMyg6egUIARCIAQ
https://www.alignable.com/milford-oh/mikes-electronic-parts/crystal-radio-kit-3
https://www.jumia.co.ke/generic-1pcs-mini-micro-small-3-phase-wind-turbines-hand-alternator-generator-3v-24v-12v-new-18194523.html
https://favpng.com/png_view/car-lego-mindstorms-nxt-gear-lego-technic-transmission-png/90gEjrXz
Odila compounds in KSM migosi estate was where King Solomon house stood along time and besides the road at that time was where the lake started b4 River Nile was dug to shrink it as at that time it drains its water to red sea or Indian ocean in Somali, the mouth to the out let was at awasi border along kendu bay Homa bay road, they heap artificial made debris to make not the river flow again and if u pass their u see the land on this side hangs while the lake water kind wants to overcome the land and fall over but relatively far. They blocked it b4 leaving as it had much water falls that could generate electricity which could hamper they huge population motive as time gets by transport electricity below the earth crust to evade the sea to get big cash from the high population they are championing, even bringing people here from other spheres to facilitate the above truth. When the owner comes knows how to make military vehicles and what they don’t know, will cut ya into pieces, the Naphtali tribe, they feared war cause no point to fight yet they got no internet technology which the people they killed got, so had to relent but now they even know how to make home and office appliances that makes life movable. The Italians machines are the most sophisticated and durable, so imagine and that’s why the Guard tribe killed yesus thinking he will tell Italians the same and subdue them economically and in war dominance and get pride as Christ emanated from their tribe but don’t do that as they fear the explained above.
Buy America whirlpool, mabe or Mexican NAFTA home appliances bro in the link below, must stay ahead of competition to be good and accept reality, rather their goods wont be bought or discarded altogether if they join the bad like support America.
https://www.google.com/search?source=univ&tbm=isch&q=whirlpool+electronics+images&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwif6Z2Yx5TpAhU15OAKHRBTAVMQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=632
https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-google-coop&ei=xxOtXt9ptciDB5CmhZgF&q=NAFTA+home+appliances+from+which+country&oq=NAFTA+home+appliances+from+which+country&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzoECAAQRzoECAAQQzoCCAA6BggAEBYQHjoICAAQFhAKEB46BQghEKABOgcIIRAKEKABOggIIRAWEB0QHjoECCEQFVDGIFiYbWCccmgAcAJ4AYABhgWIAYNKkgEKMi0zMS40LjAuMZgBAKABAqABAaoBB2d3cy13aXo&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwif6Z2Yx5TpAhU15OAKHRBTAVMQ4dUDCAs&uact=5
https://www.google.com/search?source=univ&tbm=isch&q=made+home+appliances+images&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjA8eHmx5TpAhXnAGMBHb-aCdEQsAR6BAgIEAE
Artificial ground nuts, sunflower or sim sim used to make as well artificial oil is grinned not that much then much water added then many spit saliva in a big container in the dark and boom they are formed or a little oil on water in a container then the above done and boom the cooking oil. Christ with little kids to cement the truth.
Artificial made pineapple makes ya head shape cone shape 4 the better as the face shape of inverted cone piss many a woman or men but eat it ones and divorce its usage, cause much makes it more/much that way 4 kids to start their laughs or people thinks u r sick or malnourished.
https://www.google.com/search?q=+types+of+humanface+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwic_KKwyZTpAhWj8IUKHadaDywQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=+types+of+humanface+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1DvZFjzeGCRe2gAcAB4AIAB1wGIAZ8DkgEDMi0ymAEAoAEBqgELZ3dzLXdpei1pbWc&sclient=img&ei=EhatXpyrEqPhlwSntb3gAg&bih=632&biw=1024&client=ms-google-coop#imgrc=AMD-5VEM6URHbM
Kebi saying where is that Mochanda and MAGDALENE who has refused to get into his love trap, playing not hard to get but rather star-bon, he has done all hairstyles but to no avail including changing attires, now he is signaling women around that his penis can be played with and looks up indirectly by wearing kiri kiri or akala with aerial like projections looking up to cement the truth of the above waiting finally 4 the 2 women say cause like he says he cant stand an erection thinking of them, warning them they can find themselves in hell out of that. Like in the link below
https://www.facebook.com/AkalaShoes/photos/a.1538986833076066/1538986819742734/?type=3&theater
https://www.google.com/search?q=shapes+of+kenya+made+akala+or+kirikiri&client=ms-google-coop&tbm=isch&source=iu&ictx=1&fir=1gU96dYBvwKD7M%253A%252CXWEfFtP77WZ96M%252C_&vet=1&usg=AI4_-kRjjYAf5GQs2pxz4fBRXqTZ6CDTRw&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjz-P-LxJTpAhXUDWMBHSRkCnMQ9QEwCHoECAgQBw#imgrc=1gU96dYBvwKD7M&imgdii=n0ndiNtGP-OnZM
Dough in ice or cold water make Radios, Tv, home appliances as well as office or medical equipment or glass/plastic bottles or containers. Ice in dough or cold water or vice versa makes artificial tea if u spit saliva in the dark, tiles, tires, guns or any military vehicle or ammunition and even toys and many more gadgets u come to see after u partake neem leaves in ya meditation.
Daily wages is sweet than that saved in the bank if relatively easy to get and can take ya too hell if u do it daily as opposed to people who r looked at who got much cash and life in danger of being robed hence applies tight security measures.
Those who love like kids or rice or play love flat lands with flash like water on them not dry. Those who love snacks love flat dry lands and its known dat way bro. Those who love cold mountainous lands love corpse and if u like such lands investigators think u r 1 and many taken to prison out of this even when u select online. Those who love plain lands or champions in explaining things love lands which are flat but not all that dry like lands which has just experienced slight flash rainfall. Food lovers loves partially hill places not rolling while those who love themselves loves the later rolling lands and its true and ya character known that way while those who love women love lands with water bodies as cities next to or generally people loving people character. Living in big cities creates another character of instilling chauvinism or class in u as vice versa, lands with few people breed love and ya character pegged on the above underlying truths
Pit latrine which are clean with water beneath when u shit in them gives ya the calmness of mind as directs ya or open ya ways bro, serious and try dude and toilets where feces fall on water b4 flashing wobbles ya mind and makes ya less sane scenario with many whites yet they know not but instead give those using pit latrine names as much as with negro folks. It should be made dry where if u sit the shit fall directly into the below part which can be made like 2 meters b4 the fecal mater heap to add much water to pump it to the sewer line using a water pump to avoid the explained above with mind wobbling period dude like in the link below
https://www.jumia.co.ke/k-water-pump-motor/
https://www.google.com/search?source=univ&tbm=isch&q=flashable+toilet+images&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjPxd2Pm5LpAhXYDmMBHZ86DVQQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=632
Now their is affirmative action with the new E-bikes which don’t spoil unless wares out in wheels or break parts after long and eliminates completely fuel money the previous use giving ya like 200% profit of the money u made using the gas powered 1, so women not complain or wait on men no-more, as they can buy the same to save their money they used on the same as transport while carrying other women they found on roads like in the links below or just organized to take women in the morning to town and drop them from work in the evening or when call made like from airport or hotels, women now is the time to pro-act and stop waiting on men as E-motorbike profit is huge. Like in the link below
http://africa.chinadaily.com.cn/weekly/2015-07/17/content_21309042.htm
https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Flookaside.fbsbx.com%2Flookaside%2Fcrawler%2Fmedia%2F%3Fmedia_id%3D1475038859248143&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FEvalast.The.Future%2Fphotos%2Favailable-in-nairobi-kajiado-coming-to-kitui-town-next-week%2F1475038859248143%2F&tbnid=VXpF0JNl_oR8SM&vet=12ahUKEwid2uqMnJLpAhWX4oUKHb6pAOcQMygOegUIARCNAg..i&docid=tsKCuYsNtfILhM&w=960&h=734&itg=1&q=e-motorcycles%20in%20nairobi%20images&client=ms-google-coop&ved=2ahUKEwid2uqMnJLpAhWX4oUKHb6pAOcQMygOegUIARCNAg
https://www.doit.com.ng/2019/12/04/do-you-know-mobile-toilets-are-goldmines-in-nigeria/
In the above link u take out the shit u don’t flash it out to the sewer line and its like the pit latrine gimmick above
Buy Zero USA made motorbikes in the link below
https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-google-coop&ei=IturXsebG4_UUbGAmtAF&q=kanos+electric+motorcycle+from+which+country&oq=kanos+electric+motorcycle+from+which+country&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzoECAAQRzoECCEQClCzxANY0OgDYOHuA2gAcAJ4AIABowKIAdMQkgEFMC4xLjiYAQCgAQGqAQdnd3Mtd2l6&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwjHtOmDnZLpAhUPahQKHTGABloQ4dUDCAs&uact=5
https://www.google.com/search?source=univ&tbm=isch&q=zero+motorcycle+images&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjym8TCnZLpAhWt6uAKHaA_BlgQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=632
The know nothings wants u to join their bandwagon which if u refuse they say u hate not good looking people as u disrespect them, as talk much as them with their ears closed and mouth wide open, MR crocodile the Governor where is the utility of all ya Degree which theorem machine have u come up with to help masses or just talking in reproaches and planning hooliganism with hooligans, tell me dude, ya daughter in love with kebi wanna elope or what dude, talk Mr Governor or afraid wont get ya post again. They say Kenya good than USA without proper reasons b4 again saying they r Negros, if they get their they will send us much dollars, stop dude and figure out, they have not know yet how to make home appliances if we know a head of them will sell to them and be rich but now they have known the same as per the links below even with motorbikes. Stop Stop stop, accept u r defeated and lets move on
They still locate people houses to disrespect them and economy wont build that way on disrespect lines but stiff principles below which don’t select whether poor or rich and all ya dirty dubious ways explained below now blocked so source 4 others which r blocked as well. Google bro, now with cheap portacabin house like in Nigeria when other nations have learnt the same, placed in credit eliminate the vice u have heaped upon people 4 ages. Go to hell and die if u wanna dude!!! Locating folks with money to join them, bad character or if not so plan their downfall to start disrespecting them, or cut them in view of exhuming such people casket b4 they sell again even seats brought from Kansas should bore drilled holes as marks on the hind parts using a drill and with anything one left to thrift store or place outside their homes i.e plates that finds their way to Africa so we know they r from the USA to be made cheap or given as donation to thwart the old gimmicks of getting rich fast yet belittling the very people who are hardworking to buy the same. Kids get to the same rest rooms as parents and find feces particles of the later which breeds disrespect among families or people, houses ought to have different toilets to place a mark between parents,kids and visitors to avoid the above. Make ya toilet clean like 100% to avert the later.
Signs of a brighter day bro, we cant teach old Dogs new trick just let them lie as they know not of the below as a good turn deserves another period.
shampoo made out of grass grows ya bald so desist bro ya information. Kenyan motorbikes in the link below
https://cleantechnica.com/2020/02/18/fika-mobility-wants-to-jumpstart-the-kenyan-electric-motorcycle-market-with-battery-swap-model/
The link below represent E-motorcycles which are Kenyan made called Fika, grab your today bro, now stop standing on the road to poke others or in a base to propel hooliganism lest arrest let the law be implemented as fast as the speed of sound period, thought it will never change, dude change will change ya if u don’t relent and obey, We arrived as tumefika not sluggards bro
https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-d&q=fika+mobility+motorcycle+from+which+country
https://www.google.com/search?source=univ&tbm=isch&q=fika+mobility+motorcycle+images&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjQ9dG8qpDpAhXE8uAKHf1yCVcQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=910
https://www.google.com/search?q=small+solar+lighting+from+china+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwiQl_yGmZDpAhWK_IUKHeVLCJgQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=small+solar+lighting+from+china+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1C52gFYy4QCYI2MAmgAcAB4AIABnBGIAf80kgENMC4xLjUtMS41LjktMZgBAKABAaoBC2d3cy13aXotaW1n&sclient=img&ei=h8qqXtC3Mor5lwTll6HACQ&bih=910&biw=1280&client=firefox-b-dUnless i
http://africa.chinadaily.com.cn/weekly/2015-07/17/content_21309042.htm
see a generator that uses a 1.5 v dry cell to generate 240 volts is when i can believe to alludes of CHRIST 1 disciple called Bartolomeo or just illusions. Can even use the phone battery charging technology as u charge another to replace it cause charging 1 battery and using it at the same time without replacing it cause landslides and heavy downpour. Like in the link below or can be automated in that if the battery reaches a certain voltages it becomes the charged 1 while the was charged 1 now rotates the shaft to produce power and it goes on and on
https://www.google.com/search?q=+phone+battery+external+chargers+from+china+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwjKv63ImJDpAhXI4YUKHTfFB00Q2-cCegQIABAA&oq=+phone+battery+external+chargers+from+china+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1D7tAJY9PQCYPiDA2gAcAB4AIABjQeIAfoQkgEFNS0yLjGYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=BMqqXsqtH8jDlwS3ip_oBA&bih=910&biw=1280&client=firefox-b-d
https://www.google.com/search?q=small+solar+lighting+from+china+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwiQl_yGmZDpAhWK_IUKHeVLCJgQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=small+solar+lighting+from+china+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1C52gFYy4QCYI2MAmgAcAB4AIABnBGIAf80kgENMC4xLjUtMS41LjktMZgBAKABAaoBC2d3cy13aXotaW1n&sclient=img&ei=h8qqXtC3Mor5lwTll6HACQ&bih=910&biw=1280&client=firefox-b-d
Even electric bulbs and other accessories are made in euphorbia mixture with water where u place 1 sample of bulb and boom many are formed, torches as well and solar kits, even some phones.
Placing tea in dough and spit on the mixture gives even cooked chapati or raw, mandazi, other biscuits, cookies or cakes.
Put stains on shelter materials like clothing, nursing homes apparels like blankets, bed sheets, pillow or duvet that are permanent so if seen in the markets of other nation are barred from being bought as shame, kinda or make holes at the tip the around the hole sew it again to avoid over-tear to be a mark as above to discourage dubious ways of getting money leading to triumph belittling others for nothing who are industrious and yet know not of ya hidden dubious agendas. A people who are geared at forging the country ahead no-matter what as u joke and give in to play.
The plane in the link below can take to the sky up-to 5 years and used to transport the above using fissures on the earth crust to another nation as being controlled from the computer as a wire is rolled underground to emanate from these holes to make it not lose direction and fall or just a person b4 he hangs it on a hook after reaching the hole to the earth crust as the destination. It has a not 1 coil system to heat the siren gas cylinder but like 3 like the alternating press pen in that it rotates to change the coil if burns up as the wire that carries the same current to heat every coil has a red light to signal its working which if goes off means the coil aint working so u change another as switch a switch to rotate the 1 in use out as u remove it to allow another 1 works as much as having enough spares on the place to sail ya through
https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fbillionairetoys.com%2Frolls-royce-hybrid-powered-apus-i-5-demonstrator-aircraft%2F&psig=AOvVaw0rw7fAM8ZoGlwjmmQvQmMH&ust=1588338170462000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAkQjhxqFwoTCMjeofaakOkCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/699113542134647779/
https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/funfair-carnival-games-children-adults-amusement-197508050
With tumblr a/c if the email is guessed and has more than 30 characters u cant get back and log in even if some1 gives ya the password period dude, get this straight, let it not be a debate bro lest wanna put up a fight even if u try to open that guessed like g mail a/c to send magic link to still get access to the same a/c u cant bro. Get it straight fellows and all my following tumblr a/c displayed in sirjustice104 r opened that way, so what u r saying u want to delete then take out a flight out the hood is a pure impossibility unless u attack the servers of tumblr company in Ny. Dude whats ya take or what u r up dude b4 u resort to wanting my food in a rich nation as u claim as rich people have developed another character away from the known behaving like poor people or b4 u look at my property to steal in open way or want to grab my manhood esp Mr Hindu doing roadside show businesses along the way. Accept defeat and lest move on, me i see thing in my eye like Robinson or Minaj booty in USA while me in Kenya but u, u only see 10 km radios, as u claim not me, if u were me u ought to see the same, fuck u Mr Hindu and stop ya sick open games and resort to hard works. In these day not even ya cash will aid ya period.
Even the photos of hairstyles and cuts of people when inserted on dough or used bottles, snow flakes or chaff make gadgets not necessarily cut heads that can be a target in political instigated even like demonstration, reason being the same above yet the normal people know not as u r targeted of hair-style to make with machines.
Any1 in life who has been a head of ya, manipulated ya in 1 way or another their is away u get him in life, just like in a movie some good get bullet shots to teach u the same that also u with another aint spared and how life is, even with America, Eu or Asia, most African nations have come up with machines ahead of them and are left in awe as long they used to say its the skin color that makes them think as opposed to Africans. Question fellows where is that gimmicks, even those ahead in class u get them as later in life ahead of them in cash and they get perplexed as they were tought aint right as not only school define life, so can advice others to take another course of life. Christ with prostitutes going to hell ahead of u. Folks some people r never judged after death cause their sins minimal and many wonder that judgement houses like in Minneapolis to small 4 50 million-people who die annually as per records.
The people who are not all that bad in life gets to the bottom cold floors of hell as described below in hot lands and vice versa in cold lands like the tundra, those bad get to the hottest floor bearing the above in mind, neither bad nor good gets in the middle and as well what was ya favorite city temp, so they fight the reverse to get where u did not want whether hot or cold.
Volt meter on planes need not capacitor or place 2 after and b4 the capacitor as placing 1 b4 only tells of power past SCC but the capacitor as well can burn and it doesn’t show that rather if u place them many even 5 in a parallel connection.
The police like, coast, Jamaica blooded men, find new excuse as argument cause u have thwarted their thinking, now where is ya mask which if covid is over we don’t know the new slogan they will put on their lips every-time and another is about the home appliances, guys who are making these things after u read my tumblr a/c, purely is me giving them the guiding-lines to make such but little did u know they start to quarrel with me again on something am championing to defeat Mr white man as buy from ya country and discard from nations that supports the derailment of the above but if they change still u can hang on their gadgets as excuse can be ya home made are detriment to the eye while their not that bad, so folks they build up animosity if i say the same that u ought to buy from ya nation on what i have help build. Bad character anyway as u have blocked them to kill ya and eat ya corps so they hold grudges upon ya. Its a new debate with ya all together.
Most never wants to love kids as situation aint still good and loop holes r going to be blocked, so have known the same, so by locating those who eat they send dem kids to ya and you knowing u don’t love them as it makes u feel bad as kinda, an umbrella opens up on ya mind and close the nerves of ya senses in ya brain to stop u from thinking, so many hate kids around them and many give them names yet they know not the above or just know to wanna spread the raising kid expenses to others or give ya names or maybe they teach ya of the same to look into how u can make people love simple life cause maybe they see u can do it and have not realized not. It goes this way in life, u cant expect me to accommodate others in my house yet me i was not accommodated rather was terrorized with my peers around me and chased by grown ups, scratch my back i scratch yours is the norm of the day, get it straight dude, never just give people names yet u don’t understand their past, its a spirit that needs to be eliminated with tricks to reverse the above.
Artificial foods Af just like Africa with mad, breed belittlement on you to people around you,kinda, it snatch out respect out of ya and many are sent to investigate as eating corpse described above as it will be part of judgement in life after death with like appendix, kinda,1 sees u like useless, weightless as flying to indicate the above, u wont deny in hell everything got side-effects even if eating in secrecy or corners.
Blessed are the comic, 4 they shall inherit the earth, without china i could be in bondage as Eu nations would not have made the same alternator generator to at-least calm the situation but Nigeria had made it, if at all they did not made it they could have helped liberate the situation. Planes should be made like comic plane to avert plane fall and they above employed as the running along the middle parachute or individual ones placed inside the plane 4 the same.
The starter comp 4 kitchen alternator resembling the motorbike 1 in the link bellow can be made big like of much wire and a big portion of magnet to instead of producing 24 volts as specified bellow produces 220 volts where it can overtate complete alternator generator for better/good as well in the link below as it will be small and can use like one 1.5 V dry-cell creating a new wonder or phenomena in the world of innovation without passing via an electric inverter. Make work easy, pro-act dude instead of reproaches
https://www.jumia.co.ke/catalog/?q=no+fuel+generator
https://www.jumia.co.ke/generic-1pcs-mini-micro-small-3-phase-wind-turbines-hand-alternator-generator-3v-24v-12v-new-18194523.html
https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fi.ytimg.com%2Fvi%2FtiKH48EMgKE%2Fmaxresdefault.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DtiKH48EMgKE&tbnid=67CDPehP1h5X3M&vet=12ahUKEwjK3LzEv4_pAhVR8IUKHWJMDpMQMygZegQIARA7..i&docid=onZ-cF4VZzPkIM&w=1280&h=720&q=the%20most%20cheapest%20alternator%20generator&client=ms-google-coop&ved=2ahUKEwjK3LzEv4_pAhVR8IUKHWJMDpMQMygZegQIARA7
When made it will something like the describe gadget in the link below powering ya house or ya business premise, in fact its portable and can walk with it alongside ya and never feel the pinch
https://wxnaiermic.en.made-in-china.com/product/pCvnqjxoHYkE/China-500W-12V-24V-48V-Three-Phase-Low-Rpm-AC-Pmg-Permanent-Magnet-Alternator-Generator.html
Africa is like the head of some1, so countries on the back of the head as west African states will have the day with speedboat or yacht transport via the sea to America as much as parcel delivery and on the nose as horn of Africa and North Africa nations bordering the sea after good roads developed as well as railway. With tumblr a/c if u follow no-1 u cant shift the a/c or if u use a browser like opera mini or chrome u cant do the above or when creating the a/c u used a pass-code more than 30 characters u can log in again even if u know the created password. And on Instagram or FB i just search the country name and find where to comments and follow them or send personal text b4 they react and u can check on my following how many nations i have done the same, in fact all nations of the world, so if u ambush me out of wanting that to be ya own u r on wrong side of history as they got the same and moreover i have searched under google to post to ya on my following tumblr a/c what they have made period dude. Dude what now do u want? Answer me homie!!!
shampoo made out of grass grows ya bald so desist bro ya information. Kenyan motorbikes in the link below while 1 made out of Euphorbia after long protrudes ya 4head out as Malachi 4 cements the truth another version. They are gays so guides ya women to leave u hoping they will be yours in short time which they find not easy and that’s the gimmick, “we have been warned“ mostly dignitaries and lazy men in society. Resort to bar soap women with barnabas to guide ya!!
Siri Lanka speed boats r too expensive, this the quotation they tell me for their boats, compare with china made ones bro b4 selling to respect fellows
50-60 feet semi long line vessels $120000-150000
https://cleantechnica.com/2020/02/18/fika-mobility-wants-to-jumpstart-the-kenyan-electric-motorcycle-market-with-battery-swap-model/
U can opt 4 the below machines in the link below
https://www.agrimachines.co.ke/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=4&Itemid=104
kebi could not stop saying moch nyimi long'o as he was giving it unto her
Houses are even made with cereal chaff or the remains of harvested cereals like with maize, millet etc, where foundation dug only they the above heaped even with garbage and u can fence to hold them in place, b4 in the dark many spit upon the above and boom the house of ya type u inserted many photos of gotten from the net formed even with city buildings, bridges and sky scrappers.
On the wireless alarm system to call ya phone after subscribing 4 unlimited with like cricket as explained in 1 of the following tumblr a/c of sirjustice200 u can use the radio call in the link below instead but 4 short distance if u leave by
https://www.jumia.co.ke/boafeng-bf-888s-16-channel-two-way-radio-3w-27823759.html?seller_product=1
For the 1.5 volts battery described above u can use these ones instead of phone battery if u like or wanna as u replace each after 1 finishes in power
https://www.jumia.co.ke/generic-or-16208-pcs-3.7v-cr123a-16340-2800mah-yellow-gtl-rechargeable-li-ion-battery-yellow-25951617.html
https://www.jumia.co.ke/generic-12pcs-vtc6-3.7v-2500mah-li-ion-rechargeable-18650-battery-18650-charger-purple-2-groove-24820891.html
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answer from aries to 12th house. all of them. please.
oh my god ahahhhaaha WELL OKAY.
aries: what are you passionate about?
I am passionate about making art, connecting with people, and helping others the best that I can. when I can help teach someone something important or help them access their own tools, that’s such an amazing feeling!
taurus: name 3 of your favorite books.
Carry On by Rainbow Rowell, The Book of Lost Things by John Connolly, Circe by Madeline Miller, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. all ABSOLUTE bangers. also fuck u I work at a literature company I can put a fourth book if I want.
gemini: what was the last text you sent?
“i shifted how i was sitting and was like ‘oh stabby, cool’” my friends will know what this is about
cancer: if you could choose your child’s zodiac sign, what would it be?
n/a (don’t want kids)
leo: name something you love about yourself.
I LOVE. how creative I am. I mean I constantly bounce between like five different hobbies and I just love looking at the things I’ve created and feeling proud of myself and remembering how much fun I had making the thing! plus, my art has helped me connect with so many people and has helped so many people and that’s just. ahh. so rad!!
virgo: what’s your #1 pet peeve?
I HAVE TO NAME JUST ONE? LMAO. honestly i think i’ll have to say when people are not aware of their surroundings—whether that’s people walking too slowly in front of me or someone just standing like a dummy in the middle of the aisle/sidewalk like buddy come on people have to Go Here.
libra: describe your dream partner.
my dream partner is patient, funny, handsome, supportive, excited, and understanding! he also has been dating me for over five years. :^)
scorpio: do you trust easily?
this is an interesting one. I... don’t think so? and that’s not because I expect people to hurt me, I just have a lot of walls and a front I tend to put up until I’m close with someone. and scorpio is my dominant sign so hey that’s fitting. I can’t always rationally tell whether or not I’m vibing with someone, but if I notice myself struggling to be myself or behave like I normally would because of my protective walls, I know they’re not a good fit for me. (also this isn’t because I’m not friendly or outgoing, it just takes a minute for people to get to know me a bit deeper. asndgntdn i’m overexplaining lol)
sagittarius: if you could travel to any place in the world, where would it be?
bro uh. you know i see why people romanticize traveling a lot, it’s supposed to be this really revealing experience—and I did get to study abroad in college, and it was a powerful and introspective experience—but now that I’m older and have a job and medications and illnesses and disabilities I just don’t know how feasible traveling would be for me. THAT BEING SAID: it’s on my bucket list to spend a few nights to a week in a cabin with paints and books and just fucking chill.
capricorn: what’s your dream job?
currently my goal is to become an adolescent therapist, but if that doesn’t flesh out, something else in the realm of social work or accessibility. and obviously I want enough time and energy to keep making art!
aquarius: do you believe in aliens?
scientifically, yeah! there has got to be intelligent life out there. spiritually, yes! I tend to think of deities as higher-vibrational creatures that can interact with us—similar to spirits and ghosts.
pisces: describe someone you love.
my mom is nerdy and gets excited about small things, from glitter to videogames. she has almost as many tattoos as me, and almost all of them are geeky references. she and i are both traumatized and chronically ill in similar ways, which I think has strengthened our relationship in my adulthood. though, I was always close with her—she always made sure to support whoever we were as children and teens and give us the resources we needed to succeed. :’)
sun: describe yourself in 3 words.
kind, balanced, sensitive
moon: what’s your favorite song?
Such Great Heights by The Postal Service!!!! it’s been my fav song for like, fifteen years
rising/asc: how would you describe your style?
lazy nonbinary wearing nothing but sweaters as they wait for surgery lol
mars: are you easily angered?
no—and in fact, it took me some time and a fair amount of therapy to be able to access my own anger after leaving an abuser. (though I DO get annoyed easily, see the question about pet peeves lolol)
venus: what’s your aesthetic?
i..... what the fuck is my aesthetic outside of my style. what does this mean. raw art, forests, sunsets, rain, i guess???
mercury: what color do you talk in?
green. sometimes, orange! other times, deep sea blue. but usually green.
jupiter: what moral do you live by?
be the best version of you that you can be, listen to the messages the universe sends you, and enjoy your life. be kind to others.
saturn: what’s your biggest fear?
living a dull, unhappy life and not making the most out of the life I have. making decisions out of fear and not going anywhere.
uranus: are you rebellious?
ok so not needlessly so, but whenever it comes to rules I think are dumb as shit, yes. yes. I was the kid in high school who got straight A’s but talked back to the subs when they were being unreasonable lol. I just tend to think “well I’ll do this my own way” when I don’t like something.
neptune: share one of your dreams.
I want to live in a brick house. I think they are so cute. I want a window nook seat, and a tower/fun shaped attic where a library can be—I want a yard for my doggy and a space for me to paint.
pluto: what’s the biggest thing you’ve learned by far in your life?
people are healing.
lilith: do you have any guilty pleasures?
sure! I like to imbibe in some drink or smoke and zone into a dumb videogame every once in a while.
chiron: have you ever broken a bone?
i broke my nose as a child!
ceres: are you a momfriend?
I used to be, now I think of myself more as a mentor and friend than the mom friend. being the mom is exhausting.
pallas: do you have a good relationship with your parents?
my mom, yes!
juno: do you believe in soul mates?
of course! not just romantic soul mates—there are many different kinds.
1st house: are you confident?
yes! most of the time, lol. until i am outside and constantly looking over my shoulder because ptsd has eaten my brain
2nd house: if you could only keep one of your personal items, what would you choose?
probably my laptop because of all the stuff on it, art programs, etc.
3rd house: do you like to read?
yesss!! see above with my book suggestions. I’m working on Dune right now.
4th house: what does your bedroom look like?
cozy! half messy, half not. we still have boxes we need to unpack at the foot of our bed, but I’ve decorated my dresser with a lot of memorable items—my necklace tree, photos, instax, we have a couple plants, oh and my altar is in here too!
5th house: name your favorite movie or show.
Avatar: The Last Airbender for surreeee
6th house: do you participate in community service?
not currently—while I like the idea of it, I feel like I don’t have the time or battery level with commissions and art and working full time and working out and taking care of a dog.
7th house: if you could choose, what zodiac sign would you like your dream partner to be?
man I don’t like this one, every zodiac sign has its ups and downs and further, combinations of zodiac signs are what make people truly unique—not to mention peoples’ life experiences!
8th house: do you believe in reincarnation?
yes, absolutely!
9th house: what’s your favorite quote?
not to be boring but I don’t think I have one, and I don’t really want to pull one out of my ass for the sake of answering this question. :(
10th house: are you good at public speaking?
surprisingly yes! I’ve got a good blend of professional and cracking the occasional joke.
11th house: what sign(s) is your best friend/squad?
LET’S SEE. we’ve got a cap, a gem, a gem/cancer cusp, a cancer, a libra, and a pisces.
12th house: do you like to be alone?
lmao tonight i hung out with my partner and her date and after a movie i was like “i’m gonna be a party pooper and go to bed and by go to bed I mean get on my bed and draw while listening to music” so yes, I sure do like being alone.
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THE GREAT MANGO ROBBERY
As a small boy the trip to Gateway food store with mum was a lifeless chore of dolour, Cavendish Square Swindon 1976 wasn’t the greatest of shopping experiences, but unfortunately, back before caring, it was all we had. Amongst its sparse but rich selection was Dewhurst, spilling the sweet sickly stench of death, permeated into the sawdust footprints of its patrons. Devon Savouries, where in summertime I would stand mesmerised, watching the freightage of industrious ants, transferring sugary debris back and fourth from the lavish display and of course a cycle repair shop, where gleaming wrought iron grifters sat ready to be purchased. There were the usual splattering of newsagents, hair salons and public houses around its many alcoves, one in particular the Cock Robin pub, where kids would have their heads ruthlessly shaved for the price of a pint, as their fathers watched on whilst enjoying a pale ale…or two.
Central to this Utopia of consumer habits, stood, proud as brass, the Gateway supermarket. Nothing in comparison to the labyrinth style supermarkets of today, the Gateway boasted three isles, two checkouts and half a dozen trolleys. The entrance was grand, well it was to me, huge double glass doors, one pane boarded up, due to the previous evenings drunken debauchery. Above these aluminium framed doors proudly hung the sign, a motif, a symbol of power and safety, a sturdy green image of two towers, a portcullis and the words Gateway in bold Helvetica. The first time I walked beneath this daunting symbol my aspirations of what lay in wait were somewhat shattered, no knights in shining armour, jousting or jesters, what greeted every customer was a rusty trolley dragged from the brook, and a frumpy looking employee, cigarette in mouth named ‘Iris’, carefully stacking tins of a certain product, claiming to contain no lumps of fat or gristle……GUARANTEED!!
Shopping for food when I was a kid seemed a painful exercise with no rewards, the shelves a palate of dull pastel colours, all shouting false claims of exotic luxury and adventure. I’d watch as mum piled in the smash, dried vesta curry for dad and of course the 3 lit container of vegetable oil, an essential ingredient needed to top up the aways warm chip pan. The oil selection of today with its Pantone of glorious golds and greens, virgin press and blends, are a far cry from the wall of ‘crisp n dry’ we had back then. The chilled section, with its tantalising ‘Ski’ yoghurt range, which was in fact a special treat and of course ‘Spam’ and ‘Brains’ faggots, which, alternated their way into most mealtimes. I didn’t know any better, the food on offer for my social demographic, was to me, all there was, and on the rare occasions when a ‘Fray Bentos’ was served, I literally had died and gone to heaven. Unfortunately my taste buds and interest in food had all but dried up or to be true never really started, following years of over salted and dull miserable looking concoctions, all served on translucent pyrex plates, but all this was about to change
At fifteen I took a position at the Wiltshire Hotel Swindon as banqueting waiter, hours and pay of no concern, in fact I never turned down a shift or questioned my earnings. Once a week I joined the queue along with the rest of the waiters, chefs, doormen, housekeepers, outside the accounts office, in order to receive my small brown envelope, stuffed with a few greens a blue and some coppers, this weekly task had become my new ‘Fray Bentos’. Following the end of a function, it was my responsibility to carefully salvage any gateaux’s, trifle and butter, reassemble pieces and portions, in order to form a whole new serving ready for the next day. I would often sneak a spoonful of the thick birds custard and dessert topping, but this came at a risk, as being caught by the chef, would result, not only in public humiliation but a thump or two, so the indulgence was very rare. However it was the fridge which changed my knowledge of food, experience and appreciation.
One evening when placing the newly rejuvenated desserts back into the walk-in fridge, I noticed a strange looking box. It wasn’t like the other fruit crates of slatted wood, but an artistic version, brightly coloured, alluring and more importantly closed. This pandora’s box had limited wording on the side “Mangoes” and a country of origin, of where, the location I couldn’t even begin to imagine was. Each time I returned to the fridge my bravery took me closer and closer to peer inside. I’d heard of mangoes, in fact seen them, but never actually tried one. As my shift ended I through caution to the wind, and with the stealth of a ninja opened the box to reveal the plump orangery green fruits lying inside, like strange jewels. At this point I heard the chef calling, followed by the sound of his wooden clogs. In panic, I grabbed a fruit, tucked it into my jacket and ran for the door, bidding farewell to my comrades.
The walk home was a few miles, dark and often wet. I dreaded this passage, as its path took me through some unsavoury areas, however on this occasion, I had lost all fear, for within my grasp safety stowed away was the stolen mango. I walked with added spring that night, eager to leave behind the hotel so as to find somewhere quiet and alone in order to inspect my wares. I don’t for one minute condone this behaviour, as I had stolen, for which I felt terrible, but at the same time I couldn’t wait to sample this exotic treasure. Once I considered my position to be one of safety, I reached in and pulled out the plump fruit, which was now not only stolen, but like my brow, dripping with condensation, having been so abruptly transferred from fridge to pocket in this daring robbery. Lifting to my nose Idrew in the aroma, it was unlike any other scent I had experienced, even better than a cherry ski. I had no training or previous knowledge into how this fruit should be approached, and so with confidence and excitement, bit straight into it’s flesh skin and all. Juice flooded my mouth, the sweet juicy perfumed flesh tasted delicious, although I felt the skin maybe not as easy to digest. Working around the skin, discovering the odd shaped stone inside, my journey home had become an adventure, I was a young boy experiencing something new, exploring the world through a fruit, stolen from a fridge in Swindon, Gateway was now a distant memory.
My exploration didn’t end there, each shift became a new experience, I had become a professional thief, stealing to feed my first for new tastes. The Kiwi was next, which again taught me that sometimes skins are best removed, the papaya with its black bitter seeds, different oranges, olives, asparagus stems, which are actually quite good raw and fresh cooked beetroot, of which to date I had only tasted pickled, sat upon a pile of hot steaming smash. Before I had exhausted the fridge, the final fruit to fall into my possession was the avocado with its rich glossy emerald jacket. I had delayed my theft of this item due to it’s boringness. I had tried pears many a time and wasn’t a great fan. My youth only ever saw one type, bruised over ripe and at times sour. The flesh was grainy and once down to the core never held its shape, unlike an apple which leaves you with the perfect cartoon core. What could be any different from the pears I knew and the avocado I didn’t? That night the same stealth ridden theft took place, I then headed for home. Had I learned nothing??? Taking my bite through the skin I waited for the sweet grainy pear flesh but instead was greeted with an almost tasteless milky paste finished and a slice of what seemed like a conker, I thought I’d been duped, was this real, was it off, was it ripe?? I didn’t have a clue. The remains of the avocado and the mouthful I’d taken ended up over someones garden wall, I had tried this stolen fruit, offered it a fair hearing, but in the end decided and for many years after that the humble Persea Americana was not for me.
My adventures with food were short lived, slowly as time passed the excitement in taste tapered to a point where it became very rare to find a fruit or flavour of which I hadn’t already experienced. Now at 47 I feel I have exhausted all but a few items, and of those which are left, serve no real interest. Don’t misunderstand, there are cooked dishes of which I enjoy discovering, but it’s the fascination of those raw ingredients which are missed, the child like exploration and excitement of awakening taste buds for the first time, have given way to bitter black caffeine and the thick smog of Philip Morris.
As a father my voyage of discovery is now shared, albeit as more of a spectator. I envy my son, I once had his wide eyes and impatient fixity to explore further than he can reach. I delight in watching his senses mature, revel as he discovers that chocolate, is not the only nectar(Although hard to beat), those fruits I stole at risk of being beaten are now staple ingredients, readily available. They may have lost their shine to most, but introducing these fruits at a steady pace without fear of reprimand to a yet untarnished palette is as exciting now as it was back then.
It wasn’t until I took up photography that something did reignite my own guileless interest towards these basic and often overlooked ingredients. When looking through a camera what you see is yours to frame, to determine the angle and at what point the composition is aesthetically pleasing to your own eye. The German Philosopher Walter Benjamin wrote about the optical unconscious, stating that the camera and cinema have the ability to record aspects of reality that do not fit into the natural optics, namely because they are too quick, small or disperse. We see these details but do not perceive them as information. When taking photographs of what I considered as fairly mundane vegetables and fruits, brought this notion of the unseen to life. The more you stare through the lens at subjects the more you see, the apple with its blemishes, beautifully shaded exterior and perfectly formed stalk reaching from its core to the sky, the fissures naturally occurring between each cabbage leaf, made even more alluring by the rippled fleshy leaves. As I stare I often recall the great mango theft, the fervour now of my experiences are explored through the lens, not dissimilar from the stolen tastings all those years ago, the only difference, it is now the eyes that are rewarded. All of a sudden the normality of food has once again taken centre stage, I see so much more, appreciate the absolute genius in that something so simple, has grown from nothing.
With the supermarkets offering so much choice I feel we have become numb and oblivious to what not so long ago was classed as exotic, it drives me insane to see vest clad men rummaging through the sprouts at Christmas, tossing to one side rejects which have failed to make their grade… Sometimes we should all stop, hold the object in our hands and explore, examine its form, admire its colour and imperfections. I have realised with the help of a lens, that there is still so much more to see and explore, objects all to familiar do in fact have so much more to offer, hidden beyond our initial perception, further than what we first see, a return to childhood, a chance to regain an inquisitive nature…If only we look harder.
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Enjoy An Exclusive Sneek Peek of: The End of Our Story by Meg Haston!
Bridge and Wil have been entangled in each other’s lives for years, but when Wil’s family suffers a violent loss, and Bridge rushes back to Wil’s side.
As they struggle to heal old wounds and start falling for each other all over again, Bridge and Wil discover just how much has changed in the past year. Though they once knew each other’s every secret, they aren’t the same people they used to be.
LEARN MORE
BRIDGE
Spring, Senior Year
NOW that Atlantic Beach and I are about to part ways, something strange has started to happen. With just two months left in senior year, suddenly I’m noticing every little detail: the way the salt-screened classroom windows smudge the sun. How the beach rats’ feet are permanently plastered with sand. The color of Wil Hines’s skin, perpetually an end-of-August bronze from hours spent between the ocean and the sun. Now that it’s all about to disappear, everything around me is sharper, brighter. My brain is trying to convince me that I’ll miss this place once I leave for Miami and The Rest of My Life, but that’s impossible. I’ve been plotting my escape for almost a year now.
At the desk next to me, Leigh props up her sketchpad. On it is a drawing of a concrete wall with What time should I pick you up tonight, biotch? graffitied in blazing hot-pink flames. Weeds crawl through the cracks in the wall, and a girl leans against it, smoking a joint. Leigh is incapable of texting like a normal person.
She flips to the next page, where she’s written First bonfire of senior year!!! When I shake my head no, she rolls her eyes and flips again. The third page says Dude. Bridge. Come on. The girl is slumped against the wall in defeat. She looks like Leigh: shoulder-length dreadlocks, warm mahogany skin, and dark brown eyes. Even the cartoon-version of my best friend finds me lame these days. I shrug and mouth Sorry, even though we both knew the answer before she asked the question.
At the front of the room, a substitute stares blank-faced at her computer screen. We’re supposed to be doing trig practice problems, but the thirty-four of us seem to have an unspoken agreement: We’ll do nothing, leaving the sub free to analyze her sort-of-boyfriend’s Instagram posts.
As Leigh sighs and goes back to her sketchpad, Ana Acevedo leans across the gray linoleum aisle and puts her lips close to Wil’s ear: “We should go to the bonfire, babe. You never go out anymore.”
Babe. I can’t believe they’re still a thing.
I can’t believe we’re not anymore.
I stare at the back of Wil’s neck, taut from Ana’s whisper. I remember the first time I sat behind him. It was the beginning of fourth grade at my new school, and my entire body was raw with sunburn. I was on fire. Breathing hurt. Even holding a pencil hurt. So I sat as still as I could on the edge of my seat and counted the sun-bleached hairs on the head in front of me. On hair number eighty-six, the boy turned around.
He said, “Your skin matches your hair, almost.”
I blinked.
“You have sun poisoning. Like, bad,” he told me.
“Duh,” I replied, but secretly, I was relieved by his diagnosis. I had been considering something in the flesh-eating disease category.
“Didn’t your mom put sunscreen on you?”
“She had to work.” I didn’t tell him that yesterday had been the first beach afternoon in the history of Bridget Hawking. That I didn’t understand the Florida sun. I lay on the sand, feet and palms pressed into the fine grains, the fireball searing me slowly and without my knowledge. The water looked exactly the way I thought it would, like a beach diorama I’d designed in first grade. Crinkled aluminum foil scribbled cerulean.
“What about your dad?” he asked.
“My dad is dead,” I lied. Or maybe I didn’t. Mom told me once she had no idea.
“Oh,” he said. He poked his tongue in the space between his two front teeth. “Do you want to come over after school? My dad has a workshop and you should probably stay inside.”
“I don’t even know your name,” I said.
“Wil. Short for Wilson, which is my dad’s name, too.”
That afternoon, Wil’s dad picked us up in a truck that had been patched and repainted too many times to tell its true color.
“This is Bridge,” Wil told his dad.
“As in, Brooklyn?” Wilson Hines smiled. “Or maybe Golden Gate?” When he turned to wink at Wil, I noticed that he had longish hair. The dads I knew back in Alabama had buzz cuts, mostly.
“As in Bridget,” I said. “From Alabama?”
“Bridget from Alabama,” he said. “Of course.” He had us ride in the cab so my burn didn’t get worse. He fished around in a bag at Wil’s feet and found a trucker’s hat that said MAMA P’S SEAFOOD SHANTY. He put it on my head to keep the sun off my face. In the truck, there was a tiny fake pine tree on the dash, which made everything smell like Christmas.
He buckled my seat belt and was quiet most of the way but every now and then he’d ask me a question, like what Alabama was like this time of year or whether Wil had caused the teacher any trouble in class today.
“Just between us,” he said, as though Wil wasn’t there. He winked.
Wil’s family lived in a white ranch-style house that was low and long, ten blocks east of the water. The house was situated on a double lot, and behind the main house was a large workshop. It looked like a barn, which reminded me of home. Over the front door of the workshop was a neatly hand-lettered sign: HINES BOAT BUILDING AND REPAIR. Inside, the light was watery, and it smelled like varnish and sawdust. In the center of the workshop, the upside-down skeleton of a small wooden boat balanced on a large worktable. The walls were all pegboards and wood shelving and straight lines.
Wil’s dad went to get us some snacks and told us that when he got back, he wanted to see that everything was as he’d left it.
“Got it,” we said. We sat with our legs outstretched on the stained concrete floor and compared things, like mothers (his was an office manager at a dentist’s office in downtown Jacksonville; mine was a hospitality expert), and least-favorite things about our fourth-grade teacher (his: how she had only picked girl line leaders so far; mine: how when she read to the class, she licked her finger each time she turned a page, which meant that every book in our classroom was covered in her spit), and favorite holidays (his: Halloween, because you can’t buy packets of fake blood any other time of year without looking crazy and also because of the candy; mine: my birthday because my mom made Funfetti waffles).
“Also, sick days in quotes,” I announced as Wil’s dad returned with a paper plate full of celery and apple wedges smeared with peanut butter. A sick day in quotes was something special Mom did for my brother, Micah, and me once or twice each school year. We’d get up at the regular time, get dressed for school and eat breakfast, and just as Mom was rushing us out the door, she’d yell, “Sick day in quotes!” and pull us back inside. She’d call the school and tell them we were “sick” and make a big show of the air quotes while she was on the phone. Then we’d pile in her bed together and eat sugar cereal straight out of the box and watch cartoons until we all fell asleep.
“What about sick days?” Wilson crouched on the floor and placed a single napkin in front of each of us. One celery stick for me; one celery stick for Wil. One apple chunk for me; one apple chunk for Wil.
Wil rolled his eyes at me. “Don’t get him started about sick days.”
“No such thing.” Wil’s dad shook his head. “No matter what, every day—”
Wil finished the sentence for him: “You show up to play.”
When Wilson dropped me off at home that night, he told me I was welcome anytime. So I showed up the next afternoon. And the next. I spent nearly every day in that workshop, until Wil and I morphed into friends. Best friends. More. We were solid: made of layers of afternoon snacks and middle-school dances and first kisses. We took years to get that way. And I undid it all in a blink.
Somehow, I’ve survived our senior year without Wil. But now it’s April, and with Miami only a couple of months away, Wil’s absence seems sharper, just like every other detail of my Florida life. If I had to get all Intro to Psych about it, I guess I’d say that before I make the biggest change I’ve ever made in my very small life, I need something familiar. I want to find Wil in his dad’s workshop. I would talk through the cloudy life questions that have been hovering over me since August: What if I don’t get a good work-study job? and Mom can’t set Micah straight all by herself and But I don’t want to stay here, I most definitely do not want to stay in Atlantic Beach for the rest of my life. Not anymore.
The bell rings, and I watch Wil slide out of his seat and rest his hand on the small of Ana’s back. He steers her toward the door, leaving the smell of varnish in his wake.
He must be working on a new boat. He always smells like sawdust and varnish when he’s finishing a skiff. Varnish is his favorite smell—he used to sniff the can as a kid. I bet I’m the only person in the universe who knows that. I know all his real secrets, like how he can’t sleep without the National Geographic channel on low in the background. How he knows his dad loves him and his mom tries but doesn’t know him. How he can only cry underwater.
It’s such a waste, knowing those kinds of things about a stranger.
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