The 1883 Racketeer Nickel from The American Historic Society
When they first minted the Liberty Nickel it was minted without the word "cents" under the V. This led to a minor crime wave in which people would gold-plate the coin and buy something worth five cents. They would either get the item, or get the item and $4.95 back in change. This was most famously done by a man named Josh Tatum, leading to the phrase, "I was just joshing you."
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happy valentines jade! 💘 can i request “don’t worry, i’m staying right here” with vamp eddie or just eddie in general ? i miss that boy
luveline's valentine's mini party ♥︎
thank you for your request! tw blood and mentioned blood-sucking | vampire!eddie x fem!reader
Eddie gets you a bouquet of red roses for valentine's. Well, Eddie gets you more than the bouquet, but the bouquet is the perpetrator. You kiss him like a fool after you receive them, remarking that it's romantic and macabre at once, to kill something so beautiful just to have them wilt slowly on your window sill.
Eddie falls that little bit further into love with you as you babble.
You're a great pair in some ways. You like lots of the same things, you suffer the same twisting spiral thought patterns, your head fits into the crook of his neck like you'd been moulded for it. But in other ways, you aren't suited at all.
You hate blood, and Eddie likes it more than he should.
"Oh, ouch. Oh." You seize up with panic. He can hear it when you stop breathing. "Fuck, Eddie, don't breathe."
Eddie stills beside you. Your hand pulls away from the stems of your roses and his pupils shrink to pinheads, tracking the little bead of red, red blood that trickles down to your wrist.
You gag. "Fuck, what do we do?"
It's been too long since the last blood sate for Eddie to feel comfortable touching you, but you have tears threatening to weigh down your lashes, and he can hear your heart racketing, pulsing and expanding, an overloud glug. He feels his fangs cut against his gums as they slide in front of his incisors, razor sharp and unapologetic.
He hisses and you know what's happened. The taste of blood fills his mouth from his split gums, and he will admit to having that split-second want, a flash of an idea. He could hold you down, hold you kicking and screaming against the floor and push his lips to your neck.
It's not Eddie who thinks it, though. It's something else.
"Eddie, seriously, you can go, you should go–"
Your legs wobble. Eddie takes your waist into his hands and laughs softly. "Don't worry. I'm staying right here."
"Baby," you begin. "It's okay, I'm fine."
"Sweetheart, I can manage, I promise. Let's get you cleaned up, alright? Do you think you'll throw up? That would be so romantic, I'll hold your hair back."
Eddie sits you down at the kitchen table and wipes the blood from your skin. You look away with a clean tissue pressed over your mouth and nose. Even the smell is enough to make you ill. Eddie can understand why — it's metallic, heavy, and sickly, like pennies. With his hyper sensitive scenting it smells like somebody's shoved a nickel up his nose.
You relax when he gets to the cut on your finger. He slaps a sticky bandaid over the wound and feels better himself when the wound is out of sight.
"I'd kiss it better," he says, leaving the implication to say itself.
"I think you'd make me sick," you mumble.
"How sweet!" He grabs your face not as kindly as he could and kisses your head, a smacking kiss. "Happy Valentine's, lover. I'm so happy to be with you." Genuine. "Here's to hoping we'll have many more, so I might make you throw up with my kisses again next year." Less so.
You reach for his arm and stroke his skin, swallowing. "I love you so much. And the flowers, too. Sorry for bleeding."
"Forgiven because I love you, too." He snorts. "'Sorry for bleeding,'" he quotes. "You're hilarious."
"Get it from you."
"Oh, you flirt! Quick, we need to make out, lift your head."
He's licking into your mouth when he remembers the predicament of his fangs. It sucks, but the way you laugh when he pulls back makes it better. That and the box of chocolates you share with him.
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Hello one and all, alters and headmates! I am Charlie! I like to make lists! I also hoard names! Are you looking for a name? GREAT! You can send an ask and request a specific aesthetic or origin of name, or you can look at my list!
With that said…
…Cracks knuckles…
Findo
Tach
Tails
Flicker
Tracer
Kat
Iris
Blu
Brick
Arlo
Sammy
Artie
Finn
Stein
Aleksandr
Vora
Olive
Luna
Nyx
Cyrus
Qrow
Orian
Cello
Onyx
Skye
Grim
Opal
Dawn
Azure
Fish
Bones
Poppy
Bronze
Eggs
Sparky
Specs
Snickers
Trout
Navi
Bingo
Chili
Bandit
Stripe
Busker
Socks
Brandy
Frisky
Winston
Lucky
Chucky
Bently
Judo
Rusty
Max
Honey
Indie
Calypso
Striker
Merle
Moxxie
Vex
Ant
Bugger
Bee
Spider
Tails
Hook
Indigo
Amber
Coco
Coral
Scarlet
Ivory
Jade
Ruby
Emerald
Chuck
Loden
Copper
Hamelin
Neo
Shepard
Cinnamon
Visor
Macalister
Soul
Hack
Hiccup
Flynn
Rider
Astrid
Jay
Raven
Robyn
Bolt
Dagger
Viper
Tracer
Cornwall
Flock
Sapphire
Crystal
Ghost
Mochi
Trick
Catra
Rose
Raven
Flip
Chani
Racket
Red
Crimson
Dragon
Runt
Scotch
Tellie
Gator
Croc
Crow
Goat
Duck
Creeper
Kuma
Jet
Jeep
Draco
Poppy
Sombra
Raine
Squish
Spike
Blaze
Ender
Drake
Sandy
MK
PJ
DJ
CJ
MJ
King
Creak
Shadow
Clay
Dusty
Miles
Dart
Willow
Antonius
Husk
Moth
Cypher
Jin
Yin
Yang
Daisy
Gray / Grey
Alistair
Halo
Angel
Cake
Fennec
Fox
Null
Lull
Bastion
Lucky
Sun
Star
Cosmo
Tweety
Vox
Nerys
Sonic
Bark
Birch
Oak
Cherry
Blossom
Peaches
Velvet
Shell
Coffee
Valley
Fang
Moot
Redpath
Pudding
X
V
Jr
Ether
Fig
Trunk
Joy
Frogger
Snowflake
Snowball
Snow
Jumper
Racket
Flare
Vendetta
Loonie
Coin
Six
Eleven
Tropica
Stelina
Mojave
Ink
Sud
Fender
Zero
Pollen
Wysteria
Page
Ozias
Rex
Tortch
Buck
Nickel
Stripe
Lynch
Tramp
Wolf
Pup
Tank
Jhariah
Kharma
Zenith
Sparrow
Prism
Lemon
Mune
Lamb
Pyke
Diamond
Parker
Graves
Fizz
Nugget
Melody
Tink
Blight
Fangless
Ambress
Vulture
Eclipse
Luka
Bangle
Constance
Constantine
Sommar
Babble
Clank
Bobble
Chipper
Aidan
Slate
Tin
Twire
Zephyr
Silver
Misty
Faunus
Atlas
Birdie
Brook
Cedar
Chip
Coal
Daisy
Ember
Faye
Fate
Fern
Flint
Harmony
Helios
Ivy
Junx
Kit
Lyria
Phoebe
Piper
Lady
Beacon
Elos
Rumble
Ida
Cross
Zed
Scootie
Smidge
Clauger
Happy
Sonny
Hath
Soldier
River
Song
Clawtor
Videl
Legen
Onen
Chunk
Reid
Pop
Cobra
Cash
Clover
Saris
Volante
Donna
Belladonna
Gale
Chopper
Morphias
Vidia
Loft
Kape
Levi
Licker
Howl
Dustin
Newt
Creek
Breezy
Polaris
Blight
Archer
Sirius
Warren
Dream
Goon
Cookie
Ranger
Amity
Jericho
Viggo
Besko
Asra
Alice
Olaf
Mossfeld
Issic
Missy
Rascal
Creasy
Nonya
Hex
Pita
Miguel
Manuel
Rayburn
Daisy
Dash
Lucky
Becky
Steele
Cylo
Featherstone
Kingston
Netherfield
Reacher
Saltburn
Quick
Rubble
Dust
Brimstone
Humble
Ado
Grover
Norvanos
Leshy
Blade
Cooper
Calcium
Leo
Leonardo
Lebony
Silver
Linzier
Pearl
blackberry
Tatin
Bud
Raphael
Pebble
Mina
Linda
Oolong
Daeo/Dayo/Dao
Inco
Ketlyn
Risa
Ines
Lora
Flock
Lux
Rix
Reah
Destinty
Bet
Ange
Krixa
Lalien
Gloom
Bug
Rozy
Mars
Screech
Jenny
Robert
Patrick
Pierre
Rosemary
Henderson
Mayfield
Sinclair
Sullivan
Hart
Solace
Daughtler
Stoll
Gatlin
Yearwood
Amos
Graves
Rothschild
Halley
Spektor
Presley
Redd
Blackwood
Notvletti
Valerie
Milo
Marian
Lychee
Aiden
Nova
Vel
Bel
Yuri
Puro
Pluto
Ramona
Angel
Nada
Shen
Mog
Hania
Udge
Kinetic
Kikos
Wathel
Dupa
Sierre
Jimor
Teddy
coc
Scara
River
Shade
Foenem
Duck
Emily
Toast
Reunna
Ichigo
Rae
Sonic
MoonL
Lennus
cabaran
Marto
Leveer
Granite
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Ars Metallorum:
On the Sorcerous Faculties of Metals
Within the scheme of the occultic arts, Crystals are, and have long been, a central focus of materia magica. While there is a legitimate historical precedent behind the magical associations that many Crystals bear, these traditional associations have become willfully misconstrued and commercially co-opted over time, resulting in the New Age crystal racket that many of us have come to know. As such, not only has the crystal industry become an ethical and environmental nightmare, but what slim crystal lore that we have maintained over time has become largely conflated with nebulous new-age quackery. And what's more, much of the other occultic wisdom regarding magical associations that we've accrued over generations has been supplanted and ignored. One realm of this wisdom, which I think is especially underrated by many groups, is that of metals and their sorcerous capacities.
While I realize there are certain esoteric traditions and paradigms that do speak on metal (such as correspondences in planetary magic, or folk-magic involving iron,) the things I share here are purely my own personal experiences regarding a selection of metals as utilized within the Wending Way, based on my years of experimentation and notes I combed over For the sake of conciseness and clarity, I eschew Alloys in these references and speak only on Elemental Metals.
Copper: A metal closely associated with the ancestors—being the first metal worked by human hands—and well suited to spectral evocation in general—likely connected with its high capcity for conduction. As such, Copper is a particularly good metal where works of Thanaturgy and Necromancy are involved.
Aluminum: A metal that can be used to strengthen and empower workings of mantic perception.
Zinc: A metal associated with the healing arts and best suited to workings of such a nature.
Titanium: A metal of great protective virtue, well suited to workings of magical defense.
Tin: A metal associated with Fortune, and best suited amongst the common metals for working with the Gloaming Folk.
Lead: A metal with virtues potently predisposed to malefic workings of Affliction.
Manganese: A metal possessing of excisive virtues, well suited to acts of banishing and expulsion.
Nickel: A metal well suited to workings of influence and persuasion.
Lithium: A metal best used in workings meant to promote balance and equilibrium.
Bismuth: A metal of illusory virtue, utilized best in Glamours and Heles, or similar rites of illusion/concealment.
Silver: A chthonic metal bearing sacred significance to the Bone Mother, in particular, and strongly associated with her offerings and rites.
Gold: A zoetic metal bearing sacred significance to the Wilding King, in particular, and strongly associated with his offerings and rites.
Mercury: A transmutative metal bearing sacred significance to the Draconic Angel, in particular, and strongly associated with their offerings and rites. While not a material to be used with any degree of frequency, it may be utilized in works of great transformation on desperate occasions.
Iron: A metal powerfully suited to the absorption, storage, and/or redirection of all magics in general, which may serve to anchor or empower a wide variety of workings, accordingly. While Iron in its smelted form may be considered profane to certain denizens of the of the Otherworld, its raw forms are sacred to the Spider and its Gloaming progeny. Meteoric iron, in particular, represents the holiest and most potent form of the metal.
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i’ve moved on from handwriting guys. i found a typewriter for a nickel and a dime at a shop and now produce Racket
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I'm sorry, was anyone going to tell me that not only has Luigi been mind-controlled TWICE, but the second time was from a demonic tennis racket named Lucian that's bent on destroying the world???
Luigi, man. If I had a nickel for every time Luigi was controlled by a Big Evil bent on destroying the world and was forced to fight his brother and friends against his will, while Mario is collecting a bunch of magical objects in order to prevent this Big Evil from getting what he wants, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but UTTERLY INSANE that it happened twice-
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Square Flanges Stockists in India
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Josh Tatum strikes!
In 1883, the United States mint released a new 5 cent coin design. There was one problem with it—it came without the word CENT anywhere on the coin.
The 5-cent coin quickly became known as the “Racketeer Nickel” because there was a group of people that would gold plate the coins and pass them off as $5 gold coins.
One of the more famous of people to be accused of gold plating the coins is a…
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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: S925 Sterling Silver Retro Badminton Tennis Racket Pendant.
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Price: [price_with_discount]
(as of [price_update_date] - Details)
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1. For the first use, please charge it for 4-6 hours before using. 2.There are 4 blue light show the power state:25% when the one light is on; 50% when the two light is on; 75% when the three light is on; 100% when the four light is on. Please charge it in time when only one light is on. 3. When charging, the blue indicator light will be shink, stooping shink means fully charged. 4. Please make sure keep children and pets away to avoid touching it 5. Please turn off the power after use. 6. Please clean the bug zapper every week. 7. Never use the wet towel or water to clean bug zapper racket to avoid causing a a short circuit. 8. If you do not use the mosquito zapper for a long time, please charge it once a month. FOBIXEN With 3,000-volt grid, bugs are quickly and humanely electrocuted by fly swatter and fall to the ground or in the grid. Clean with a soft, dry cloth to avoid causing a short circuit. Don’t worry about risk of shock! 2 exterior insulation layer and 1 interior ABS protective layer will not leak electricity and is resistant to deformation. It’s safe for human by touching the mesh in an inadvertent. FOBIXEN Tennis racket design, open surface size: 9.8" X 8.6". It provides ample coverage, making zap mosquitoes more easier and funny. USB charging makes it convenient to be recharged and carried. You can use this electric mosquito swatter indoor outdoor bedroom kitchen garden camping picnic BBQ etc. The built-in 18650 Li-battery with 1,200mAh capacity provides up to 10,000 zaps in a single charge. Used as Mosquito Swatter You can get rid of mosquito or flies easily once they touch the 3000V powerful electric mesh. Used as Bug Zapper The electronic mosquito zapper use a high-effective light to attract mosquitoes, flies and gnat, then the high voltage grid will electrocute these insects immediately.
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Goodbye, Brock.
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A Fraction of Justice (Chapter #2)
Here’s Chapter #2! Alexander goes to investigate the sound and finds a pretty alarming scene.
Previous: Chapter #1
Next: Chapter #3
CW: Dehumanization, angst, mild blood, medical emergency
________________________________________
A FRACTION OF JUSTICE
Chapter #2: 9-1-1
Word Count: 1,914
Read Time: Approx. 15 mins
[Alexander’s POV]
There was a sudden and horrible hacking sound coming from the darkened room. The old man was coughing: guttural, wet, painful. It churned my stomach. It kept going, increasing in urgency. The hairs on my arms stood up. I clamored to the lamp, ready to turn it out if he happened to rise and stumble into the office.
But no, the horrible racket just kept going. There was no way he was breathing between each of these awful fits… this didn’t sound good at all. Then, the sharp and horrible sound of a glass shattering as his wheezing never ceased, made me jump to my feet. I had to do something. I had to help him. I found the electrical cord that hung off the edge of the desk and snaked to the floor. Hand over fist, I shimmied down as fast as I could. Racing across the expanse of dark walnut floor, I arrived at his doorway. Standing before those monstrous and imposing, carved doors imported from a French monastery, I gulped. They would be impossible to open if he’d latched them all the way. And despite being quite small, I still wasn't little enough to shimmy under the wood. In the darkness, I felt about for the underside of the right door, pulling with all my might. It stayed as sturdy as a stone.
I could hear the decrepit man on the other side of this wooden barrier, gasping for air. My head and hands were on fire. Maybe, maybe the other door would move. I leapt over to it, and heaved, feet sliding against the grain of the floor, it was heavy, but it moved!!!
Sweat poured from my brow as I pulled as hard as I could. It cracked open enough for me to slip through. I bounded into the silvery dark room. The only light was from a golden, ghostly street lamp that peered in through the tree branches. I could make out the specialized medical bed, with its cream colored plastic railings, its thick rubber wheels, as tall as I was. Monitors and IV drip quiet and on standby in case of an emergency. An awful lot of good they were doing him now.
I could see the blanket billowing as he writhed in the bed. I had no time to waste. Spying an edge of the blue cotton blanket that had cascaded to the floor, I recognized my path to get up on the bedside table. I ran as fast as I could, rounding the corner of the bed. As I came within arm’s length of the fabric, I felt my feet suddenly slip out from under me as I fell. The floor here was slick and wet, the ground littered with shards of shattered glass. My hands instinctively reached out to catch my fall, and as they approached the ground, I felt the sharp and excruciating bite of a glass shard thrusting into my right palm. I yelped in pain.
Scrambling to my feet, I felt around for the chunk in the dark, and ripped it out of the flesh of my hand. Grimacing, but wasting no time, I gripped the fabric and started to pull myself up. Each time I pulled with my right hand, it left a sticky crimson hand print, no larger than nickel. Soon I was almost level with the edge of the bed. The old man, oblivious I was even there, hacked and heaved, his body hitching wildly, as the meager light caught the glint of his watery blood shot eyes, looking like they were just shy of popping out of his skull at any moment.
His movements swung me about like a ship tossed at sea. If I could just get an inch higher I could land on the bedside table… however before I could get there, an arm thundered down around me, and I was forced to leap early, lest I be crushed beneath him. As I hurdled clumsily though the air, in the meager few inches between the bed and my desired destination, I focused on one thing: trying to stick the landing.
To my shock, my palms smacked against something flat, and I grabbed on with all my strength. I’d made it. Swinging my legs to the right, I easily lifted myself up. Without missing a beat, I rushed over to his phone, unlocking it and dialing emergency services. A scratchy female voice came over the speaker. I’d never called 9-1-1 before. I’m fact I’d never made a call of any kind… but, still, I knew what to do.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
“Hello. We are located on 432 West Elm Avenue, Cambridge. The last house on the block. An elderly gentleman by the name of Henrik Gottlieb is suffocating. I think… I think he may be suffering from a sudden flare up of bronchiectasis, or it may be a severe asthma attack. In any case, he’s elderly and suffers from a significant cardiovascular disease, so if you could send someone quickly….”
“Sir, we’ve dispatched emergency services to your location. Please stay on the line. You seem very familiar with his medical history, are you his doctor?”
That question stunned me for a moment. I realized this woman was only hearing my voice, she had no way to know I was no bigger than her hand. She was treating me like a human, and a medical professional no less! To be talked to with respect and regard… it sent a thrill up my spine.
“Sir?”
“N-no, just… I’ve… known him a long time…”
I stayed on the line with the dispatcher giving her detailed updates on his condition. This was looking severe. For the first time, I wondered if he might die, accompanied by only his property, me, a little toy he kept on his desk to help him take notes, with no one of significance to watch him take his last breath. This didn’t seem to preoccupy his thoughts, though, as he seemed completely unaware of his surroundings, his face turning scarlet and purple. There were times that the fit subsided and he managed to gulp air before it started back up again. This was agonizing to watch, because that was all I could do, watch. Even if I did have the muscular strength to perform CPR, his flailing body would knock me to the floor in a matter of seconds. I was powerless to help him, beyond the call I’d just made. I had no choice but to watch him suffer. And yet, after all these years under his roof, I wasn’t sure I felt entirely sad about it.
Finally, the EMTs arrived. I heard them as they swung open the office door, wheeling in a gurney. A man and a woman, talking to each other in curt, no-nonsense voices.
I addressed them as they surrounded the old man, raising my volume to a level I thought they’d be able to hear, “Thank you. Yes, he’s been coughing like this for approximately thirty-five—“ they weren’t even listening to me. They couldn’t hear me over the blood-curdling wheezing and hacking. The woman sided right up to the table where I stood, her back to me, as she leaned over her patient. Her lumbar was a mere inch or two away from where I stood. I could’ve reached out and touched her. They didn’t even know I was here, it was like I didn’t exist. They spoke to one another over his bed.
“Does the patient have a history of respiratory issues?”
The man she was addressing fiddled with a tablet, before shrugging, “The, the file’s unclear…” he seemed flustered, nervous. I wondered if he was new to the profession.
“Ma’am!!” I cupped my hands over my mouth. She didn’t even react. “EXCUSE ME, MA’AM!” The woman jumped, turning over her shoulder, as the man quickly took over, taking vitals. Now that I had her attention, “He actually has severe asthma coupled wi—“
She stared down at me, her eyes miles above, crowned by curly dark hair. Her hand was resting over her heart, but the second she saw me, her eyes sparkled and her lips curled into an amused smile, “Jesus! You scared me! Hello little fella, let’s get you out of this stressful situation, huh?” Before I could take a breath to speak, she’d pinched my jacket collar between her latex gloved thumb and forefinger and plucked me up off the surface of the table. I dangled there, flailing about as she walked with me across the room.
“Ma’am, please, you’re not listening to me… I’ve known him a long time, I’m acutely familiar with his medical history. I can help—“
“Shhh, shh. Awww you’re all worked up aren’t you? You poor little thing!” She reached out with her free hand and tousled my hair. “I know it’s scary having these big strangers in your home. Don’t worry, your owner’s gonna be just fine. Run along now!” As she spoke, she bent down, setting me on the floor just before the threshold. I refused to move.
“Ma’am, please—“ she straightened up, towering over me like some living skyscraper clad in sky blue scrubs. I swallowed, a bit frightened. It was rare that I found myself at this vantage point and it wasn’t exactly comforting. With the toe of her tennis shoe, she sort of nudged me along the floor, I admit that I trembled. It seemed like she was going to step on me, “Go on…” as I clamored to my feet and moved to skirt around her foot and re-enter the room, she shut the door in my face. I rushed to the wooden partition and pounded. I was certain they couldn’t even hear me.
Frightened, and alone, I sunk down to the floor just to the right of the threshold, listening, intently, to the nightmare going on, just on the other side of the drywall. I felt almost certain he was going to die. And if he did die, I wondered if that hurt or not. I owed the man my life and wether or not he’d see it that way, he’d essentially raised me. Yet at the same time… I’d lived a life without compassion, without tenderness and certainly without any regard for my personhood. Maybe I was angry. How dare he die before I got to show him my life’s work! To prove to him I’d not only learned oration, but the law itself from him and could argue it better than he could. I’d been working my whole life for this and here he was ripping it away from me. I drew my knees into my chest, burying my head in my hands. I heard the electrical peak of a defibrillator.
“Clear….”Squeal. Tha-Thunk. A painful pause.
“Again.”
“Clear….”Squeal. Tha-Thunk. Pause.
“Again.”
“Clear….”Squeal. Tha-Thunk. An even longer pause. Then…
“Time of death?”
“4:42 am”
My spine stiffened. But no tears welled in my eyes. I didn’t know what I was feeling or what I should feel. Moments later, the gurney burst though the door, the wheels mere inches from where I sat curled up in a ball. I watched silent, forgotten, as the life I’d known was wheeled out with the corpse covered in a sheet. Moments later, the house was eerily quiet. So quiet I could hear the rustle of tree branches as they tapped the glass panes of the windows, the thrum of the old pipes in the floor, the billowing rush of air through the vents and the familiar tick, tock… tick, tock… tick… that continued to beat out time just at it had before, despite the fact that the old man who’d purchased it in Bavaria had now ceased to exist.
I supposed that was the irony of it. No matter if any of us died, wether we were a towering giant, and a powerful and well accomplished lawyer, or a minuscule pet born and bred for humans’ enjoyment who’d spent his whole life in one room, time still ticked on as if your life meant nothing at all.
So, that was it, huh? A closing on the largest chapter of my life. Just me all alone in this monstrously large home. I sat there stock still, trying to picture myself from a third party’s perspective: a little spec in this massive, ornate and cold room. What now? As smart as I was, I hadn’t considered this. I’d always imagined I’d argue my case for him. I picked at the beds of my nails, an unforgivable habit I was often flicked in the face for, but nevertheless one that I engaged in when I was nervous.
I wasn’t stupid, of course, I knew appraisers and movers and family would be here eventually to take stock of the old man’s vast possessions. I’d just plan to already be gone by the time any of them got here. In the meantime, I could relish in the freedom of total solitude. I realized with morbid glee, I could eat whatever I could manage to get my hands on in the kitchen, and I could read whatever book from this library that I could drag off the shelf.
But, as I felt the stinging pain in the middle of my palm and the aching weariness in my bones, I realized I was getting ahead of myself. First, I needed to sleep.
I pushed myself up off the floor and shuffled towards the walls of shelves. The room felt even bigger somehow, thanks to its emptiness. Eventually I found myself at the base of the rope ladder that allowed me to navigate the library shelves. As I gripped with just my left hand, clutching my injured fist to my chest, my thoughts wandered back to that same nagging question: What was to become of me now? I hadn’t managed to think much about this moment. I recognized its inevitability, obviously. The man was in his eighties, after all. Still, he’d been such a significant staple in my life it seemed almost impossible that one day he wouldn’t be there to shove me out of the way with the butt end of a pen, or shout at me to repeat myself because I wasn’t articulating enough. Who would examine my suit with a magnifying glass, like some particularly unrelenting drill sergeant? Who would smack me in the back of the head for mispronunciations of words I’d just, or never, learned? As I ascended to the level where my bed lay, I thought about how suddenly all of that structure, discipline, fear had just melted away with the man himself. I could chart my own course now. Just exactly where I would go or what I would do was unclear.
Without even having to think, my hands glided through the process of undressing myself. I pinched the jacket button with a thumb and forefinger, and slid it off my shoulders before folding it neatly over the edge of a book. With nimble fingers, I loosened my tie and pulled it out of my starched collar. Then came the waistcoat, the dress shirt. Shoes, socks, belt, pants. All had a place to be neatly folded and put away. I adored orderliness, it allowed me to think with a clear mind. Now in just boxers and an undershirt, I settled into my bed, which was essentially a pile of discarded fabric, more of a nest of sorts. As I pulled the covers over my shoulders, my mind drifted to a day dream I’d often had, ever since I’d seen a photograph of it by happenstance. The Widener Library at Harvard University. Maybe I’d stow away there, in that vast, historic hall of knowledge, where I could continue my research, undetected until I was ready to show the world what pets were capable of. I didn’t know exactly how far, but I was aware that this house was near to that famous campus.
I shook my head, before rubbing my eyes. I was getting carried away again. I needed sleep first. Settling into bed, my back to the creeping dawn, I let my mind slip into unconsciousness, thrilled and terrified to see what the new day would bring me.
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