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alexar60 · 4 years ago

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Etude

Dès la signature du contrat, elle savait que le job ne serait pas de tout repos. En fait, elle avait été attirée par l’appât du gain sans savoir de quoi il s’agissait exactement. Aussi, son rendez-vous n’indiqua rien de plus si ce n’est que cela ne pouvait qu’être sérieux. Elle entra dans le centre d’étude, se présenta à l’accueil et fut de suite orientée vers le bureau d’un des directeurs aux multiples diplômes universitaires.

L’homme d’une cinquantaine d’années montrait un air sévère digne des philosophes des temps anciens. Il fit la présentation de la responsable de l’étude, une jeune femme à peine plus âgée qu’elle. Elle portait des lunettes, les cheveux tirés en arrière et dans son tailleur, elle paraissait très bigote comme si elle sortait directement de la messe. Après les présentations, on lui expliqua l’ensemble du travail. Elle fut surprise, demanda à bien comprendre, puis, après réflexion, peut-être poussée par un désir d’aventure, elle accepta.

Ainsi, elle travailla pendant près de trois semaines pour une étude sociologique dont le but est simple : Classifier l’homme et sa réaction envers son attirance pour le sexe opposé. En gros, il s’agissait d’un sondage particulier… Très particulier. Ce travail dura trois était, cependant, très bien payé.

Le premier jour, elle restait assise sur un canapé-lit déplié. Elle attendait que les hommes entrent. Elle ne savait pas comment ils étaient sélectionnés ; des chômeurs, des salariés, au hasard dans la rue ? Etaient-ils au courant ? Certainement pas. On leur mentait ? Peut-être. La porte s’ouvrait régulièrement et elle ne devait pas parler, juste sourire. La majeure partie des hommes entraient, s’excusaient et ressortaient aussi vite, persuadés se tromper d’endroit. Certains, posaient quelques questions auxquelles elle ne répondait qu’en hochant la tête en signe d’ignorance. Puis, ils refermaient la porte, déçus de ne pas savoir où aller.

Ils étaient rares à engager une conversation. La plupart des dragueurs cherchèrent à la faire rire. L’un d’eux osa s’assoir près d’elle et entama un pénible monologue. Elle se contenta de faire des signes de la tête pendant une dizaine de minutes, jusqu’à ce qu’une assistante n’entre et demande à l’inconnu de repartir. A ce moment, elle se dit que c’était dommage car il était plutôt bel homme. Après trois jours, elle passa à l’étape deux.

On pouvait les comprendre, entrer dans une pièce et se retrouver face à une jolie femme assise, souriante et entièrement nue. Encore une fois, la majorité fut surprise et ressortit de suite avec un air ahuri ou ravi. Par contre, ils étaient plus nombreux à lui adresser la parole. Certains pour lui signaler qu’elle était nue, d’autres pour lui demander comment rejoindre un endroit précis. Elle n’avait toujours pas le droit de répondre et bien entendu, elle faisait un signe de la tête signalant qu’elle n’en savait rien. Contrairement à l’étape une, elle s’amusa de voir les yeux des hommes ne cherchant pas à la regarder directement. Ils détournaient leur regard vers le plafond, la fenêtre ou la glace sans tain derrière laquelle cinq sociologues enregistraient les comportements. Mais toujours, elle rougit tout comme ceux qui lorgnaient ses seins du coin de l’œil.

Il y eut quelques dragues et étonnamment, elle constata que le toucher des mains, du genou ou de la cuisse se faisait plus fréquent que si elle était habillée. Elle travailla dans cette position pendant quatre jours avant de passer à l’étape trois. Elle savait de quoi il s’agissait. D’ailleurs, elle sentit la peur monter autant que l’excitation.

Il n’était plus question d’être assise mais à genou la croupe offerte aux yeux des quidams qui ouvraient la porte. Elle devait s’attendre à tout y compris les pires insanités. Les scientifiques avaient prévenus qu’ils n’arrêteront rien à moins qu’elle soit en danger, c’était dans son contrat. Se sentant un peu humiliée dans cette position, elle attendit en se demandant comment cela se passera. Elle ne devait pas parler ni bouger, juste attendre. Pour quoi ? Pour des statistiques, pour comprendre la pulsion sexuelle. Et déjà la porte s’ouvrit.

Elle se sentit rassurée quand elle l’entendit se refermer de suite après un « Ho, pardon ! ». Il n’y avait rien d’inquiétant. C’était même plutôt drôle d’entendre ces quelques secondes de silence entre l’ouverture de la porte et les mots si prononcés timidement. Elle imaginait la tête de ces hommes surpris, peut-être choqués de se retrouver face à son cul. Et encore, la porte grinçait et se refermait. Parfois, elle se rouvrait de suite comme si le gars voulait voir s’il n’avait pas rêvé. Mais elle se refermait dans un léger fracas rassurant la jeune femme.

Elle avait peur de se retrouver dans une situation pénible. Elle avait peur qu’un pervers en profite et elle avait raison ! Il y eut celui qui s’approcha pour sentir l’odeur de son sexe. Il fut le premier à oser enfoncer un doigt dans le fébrile abricot. Ce n’était qu’une phalange mais suffisant pour qu’elle morde son index parce qu’elle ne voulait pas lui offrir le plaisir de l’entendre soupirer. Ils furent quelques-uns comme lui à oser l’impensable. Ils sentaient, caressaient ses fesses rebondies. Ils observaient de plus près son œillet serré, ne risquant pas à s’y faufiler. Cependant, elle sentit quelques coups de langues, elle sentit quelques tentatives de doigtés sur sa fente qui s’humidifiait à être tant désirée.

Il y eut aussi les bavards, ceux qui demandaient pourquoi elle se présentait comme ça. Il y eut les insultes de la part de ceux qui furent scandalisés. Et il y eut aussi les entreprenants. Ceux-là n’hésitaient pas à lui parler, ils demandaient pour toucher ou plus. Mais elle ne répondait pas, se limitant à hocher la tête pour dire qu’elle ne savait pas. Tout ce qu’elle savait c’est qu’elle était payée à accepter tout ce qui arriverait. Comme le gars qui sortit sa bite et se masturba pendant que sa main farfouillait sa chatte. Ce même gars qui éjacula sur sa fesse. Comme le premier qui, après quelques mots, comprenant qu’elle ne dira rien, la pénétra sans savoir qu’il entrait dans les statistiques.

Après chaque baise, elle partait se laver et était de suite suivie par un psychologue. Le boulot était éprouvant. Mais elle put avouer qu’elle prenait plaisir à faire cela. C’était une sorte de catharsis, un défouloir qu’elle ne concevait pas jusqu’à maintenant. Puis, elle retournait travailler, reprenant la pose, le cul en l’air attendant de surprendre le prochain cobaye. Elle devinait comment il allait se comporter, jouant avec lui en utilisant son corps soudainement convoité. Finalement, elle aimait être vue pour son cul.

L’étape trois dura trois jours et lassa place logiquement à l’étape quatre et dernière. Cette fois-ci, il n’y avait pas un homme mais deux ou trois voire quatre. L’objectif était de comprendre l’effet de groupe. Et elle comprit que cet effet de groupe existait bien. Il y avait toujours un homme plus orgueilleux, plus confiant dans la connerie pour s’amuser avec elle. Alors, elle subissait d’abord les phrases débiles, les blablas de dragueurs à deux balles puis, les premiers attouchements, les tentatives et enfin, les premières pénétrations. Elle savait que si elle sentait en danger, si elle avait peur, elle pouvait tout arrêter en parlant. Mais elle ne fit, acceptant sans répugner d’être pelotée, mordue, enfourchée, ouverte, parfois déchirée.

Derrière le carreau, certains sociologues hésitèrent à intervenir lorsqu’elle subit une première double pénétration. Ils espéraient qu’elle crie appelant à l’aide mais non, elle souriait presque. L’un d’eux ne comprenait pas, et se questionnait sur son comportement. Elle refusait systématiquement la fellation dès qu’un gland se présentait sous son nez mais elle n’interdisait pas qu’on la prenne par les deux orifices à la fois. Si ses amies savaient qu’elle prenait son pied à faire ce travail avec tant d’inconnus. Cependant, il garda le secret très longtemps.

Quand elle finit la dernière journée. Elle prit une douche et se sentit désolée de ne pas pouvoir continuer. Cependant, elle fut aussi soulagée parce qu’elle ne savait pas combien de temps elle aurait été capable de supporter ce rôle. Elle interrogea la responsable de l’étude. Cette dernière ne donna aucune information. Elle avoua seulement que l’expérience était concluante, intéressante mais aussi enrichissante pour mieux comprendre le comportement culturel de certaines personnes. Elle rentra ensuite chez elle et espéra que cette expérience servirait au moins à quelque-chose.

Alex@r60 – octobre 2020

#Alex@r60 #texte #story #french #français #erotisme

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yeahanisa · 4 years ago

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Untold Story - pt.1

Ada banyak orang yang harus gue ucapin “terima kasih” karena udah menjadikan gue, sebagai gue yang sekarang. Terlalu banyak. Dan diantara banyak orang tersebut, ada beberapa orang (selain keluarga) yg menurut gue jasanya ngga bisa gue tebus cuma sekedar pake pertolongan biasa. I owe them that much.

Circle pertemanan pertama dan garda terdepan yg ready to fight kalo gue kenapa-kenapa. Orang-orang tersebut yang reach out gue ga pake gue minta, instantly, ngga pake ragu, mau itu tengah malem atau hujan badai. Be there waktu gue mental breakdown (mmm sebenernya ngga separah itu juga sih, cuma emang lagi down aja)

Namanya Corleone, yes, agak alay emang namanya, dan yaa as you thought, terinspirasi dari Don Corleone-nya The Godfather. Meskipun alay, pertemanan ini ngga menghilangkan arti esensialnya dari sebuah “keluarga” yg bound not by blood. Apakah kami mirip mafia? Tentu tidak, karena alhamdulillahnya kita ngga bersinggungan dengan underworld.

Original member (wkwkwk) cuma punya 2 orang cewek, cuma ada gua dan Mey. Sisanya laki semua. Ada Amoy, Jambul, Badai, Baber, Alek, Keong, Pangap, Ceper. Cerita gua panjang sama mereka. 80% masa remaja gua gua habiskan sama mereka, bener-bener nyari jati diri. Hal-hal baik, hal-hal unfaedah, dan hal-hal buruk (terutama) banyak yang gua dapet dari mereka.

Salah satu cerita yang menurut gue untold (dari gua ke mereka, karena yaaa malu aja ceritanya, tengsin, ntar pada ge er lagi wkwkwk), adalah hari hari awal nyokap gua meninggal. April 2009. Waktu yang memorable. Udah 12 tahun lalu dan sekarang kalo gua ceritain, I won’t feeling blue, karena udah berlalu.

Jumat, 24 April 2009

Siang itu, Jambul anter-jemput gua dari rumah ke tempat les. 2 Hari sebelumnya, anak-anak (Corleone) abis pada ngejengukin mama di RS. Mereka auto ngide jenguk rame-rame serombongan setelah gue cerita kalo hari itu gua ga bisa dateng pemantapan UN karena mama masuk ICU semalem sebelumnya. Mereka kayanya kasian sama gua yang cuma bisa sempet sekolah seminggu sekali karena lagi repot ngurus mama dan Salma. At that time, no one even care, wkwkwk, not even my crush wkwkwk. At least, biar gua bisa belajar, mereka nawarin anter-jemput gratis rumah-rumah sakit-tempat les. UN udah bukan lagi jadi prioritas utama gua hidup pada saat itu kayanya.

Di hari itu, pagi menuju siang gua dijemput sama Amoy dari rumah sakit ke rumah. Bisa banget itu bocah ngakalin gua, bilangnya sekalian dia pulang main dari Kelapa Dua (rumahnya siapaa coba). Pas turun dari motor Vario skotlet putihnya (masih idup loh ini motor sampe sekarang), dia bilang kalo nanti menjelang jam les, gua bakalan dijemput sama Jambul.

Walaupun gua jelas tidak keberatan apalagi menolak, tapi jauh di dalam hati gua, gua merasa berhutang budi sama mereka (disamping mereka yang memang butuh gua untuk ngajarin mereka wkwk). Dan mereka jelas tidak omdo walaupun suka ngaret bin mepet. Jambul jemput gua, dan kita sama-sama otw ke tempat les.

Pulang les, anak-anak masih sempet ngajakin gua main ke warnet Aztec, alasannya buat refresh sebelum UN (wkwkwkwk gila emang, namanya juga bocah), tapi gua nolak karena si Salma sendirian di rumah. Hari itu giliran Bapak yg jaga di rumah sakit. Si mas terbebas dari tugas jaga rumah sakit karena di minggu itu dia UN SMA. In the end, gua dianter pulang sama Amoy, sementara yang lain ngetag tempat ke warnet.

Di rumah, gua ngurus Salma seperti biasa sambil beberes. Sekitar jam 10-an, abis nina bobo Salma, gua masih melek, dan ngide aja gitu gua sms anak-anak. Mereka masih pada melek ternyata. Hampir semuanya bales. Gua udah lupa konten smsnya apa, tapi kayanya sms-sms ngga jelas, wkwkwk

Sabtu, 25 April 2009

Bapak ngebangunin gua. Cuma 1 kalimat yang bisa gua cerna: beresin rumah, minta tolong tetanngga, mama udah ngga ada. Trus abis itu bapak gua bangunin si Mas. Saat itu nyawa masih belum ngumpul, tapi hati ini (cielah...) kayanya udah sakit duluan. Masih inget gua rasa nyeseknya kaya apa, sambil beberes gua nangis. Dan entah kenapa tangan gua auto megang hp, langsung nelpon ke Amoy, ngga diangkat. Gua telpon Jambul, ngga diangkat, gua telpon Alek, ngga diangkat. Semua anak-anak gua telponin dan ga ada yang ngangkat. Tapi gak lama, Amoy nelpon gua balik. Untung itu anak belum molor. Gua ngasih kabar sambil nangis kalo emak gua udh ngga ada. Amoy ngarahin supaya gua ngasih tau Salma pelan-pelan, dan nanti subuh-subuh dia kesini.

Itu anak engga bohong. Subuh-subuh, anak-anak semuanya udah sampe rumah.

Detil berikutnya sampe ke proses pemakaman, ga ada yang bisa gua inget, gelap. Mungkin karena terlalu menyakitkan buat gua makanya gua lupa. Tapi yang jelas hari itu penuh tangisan. Di rumah habis pemakaman, anak-anak masih ada, nyampein duka cita, ngga lama mereka pamit pulang.

Habis isya, mereka tiba-tiba udah nongol lagi di rumah. They were there for me. Gua ngga habis pikir kenapa mereka baik banget. Ngga cuma datang dan ngaji, tapi ajak gua ngobrol biar gua ngga terlalu sedih lagi. Bahkan, si Jambul mau bantuin gua buat nelpon ke sekolah (padahal Jambul sama gua ngga satu sekolah wkwkwk), in case gua ngga sanggup ikut UN yang jadwalnya tinggal sehari lagi itu. Gua tadinya maunya kaya gitu aja. Ikut UN susulan. Tapi Keong sama Alek bilang kalo gua pasti mampu, pasti lulus, mereka bilang kalo UN ngga susah. Emang bocahnya pada suka bluffing sih wkwkwk. But I took it as encouragement. Bahkan sampe ada jokes, kalo besok sore gue bakalan dapet “distribusi�� biar panjer wkwkwk. Dan kalo gua lulus tapi nilainya ngga bagus, mereka ngusulin biar kita sekolah bareng-bareng di SeSat aja.

In the end, gua tetap melaksanakan UN sebagaimana mestinya, ngga ikut jadwal susulan

Minggu, 26 April 2009

Anak-anak udah dateng dari siang, mereka ngajak belajar bareng di rumah. Dan Bapak ngedukung kegiatan itu, mungkin maksudnya biar gua ada semangatnya buat belajar. Mereka di rumah gua dari siang sampe abis pengajian, padahal besoknya udah UN, tapi mereka tetep bela-belain ke rumah gua.

Senin, 27 April 2009

Ada 2 event yang menurut gua spesial di hari itu: UN dan ultah crush gua waktu itu. Harusnya sih, di hari itu ada cerita yang seru dalam konteks yang kepengennya sih menyenangkan. Tapi ternyata engga, hari itu jadi hari dimana gua realized ada hal real yang beneran matters buat gue, yaitu how the real me doing, bukan emosi yang gua tampilkan karena adanya interaksi sama orang lain atau adanya suatu event.

Di hari itu gua ketemu sama crush gua di deket gerbang sekolah, setelah UN. Dia cuma bilang, “yul turut berduka cita ya” dan gua balas dengan “ok makasih ya ***, selamat ulang tahun”. As I remember, gua ngucapinnya sambil senyum, he deserved that on his birthday. But no, deep down, gua ga bisa bahagia buat siapa-siapa hari itu.

Bahkan ketika mengerjakan soal UN, otak kayanya auto navigate buat ngerjain, karena yang kondisi gua waktu itu bukan gua siapkan untuk fokus UN, tapi fokus untuk tidak terlihat sedih. Apalah gua ini nahan-nahan sedih kalo dipikir-pikir? Goblok aja gitu, sok-sok kuat. Padahal sedih itu perasaan paling dasar dari manusia selain bahagia.

Dan pulang UN, gua dijemput Alek (Alek sekolah di SMP 5, rumah di Tanah Baru, dulu rumah mantannya di deket SMP 2), Alek dari sekolahnya dia nganterin ceweknya pulang trus ke sekolah gua buat nganterin gua pulang. Baik betul itu orang.... asalkan mantannya ngga tau wkwkwkwk (mantannya galak, posesip, ngga asik)

Di motor, Alek bilang gini, “Muk? Lu kalo mau nangis mah nangis aja mumpung lagi di motor. Jangan ditahan-tahan, buat apaan sik. Kaga usah malu, mumpung gua juga ga liat”

Dan, banjirlah itu air mata gua di motornya Alek.

Mungkin orang di jalanan yang liat gua sama Alek ngirain kalo gua sama Alek itu pasangan yang lagi berantem sampe cewenya nangis, wkwkwk. Karena air mata gua susah berenti, akhirnya Alek ngajakin gua muter-muter Beji-Pancoran Mas-Tanah Baru beberapa kali sampe gua udah ngga nangis lagi.

Bener kata Alek, kenapa gua harus nahan sedih? Padahal yang harus gua pikirin pada saat itu adalah perasaan gua sendiri.

Beneran panjang kalo gua ceritain semuanya. Betapa berharganya perasaan gua buat mereka pada saat itu. Support yg luar biasa gua rasain dari mereka yang sehari-harinya begajulan. Mereka ngga lupa selalu dateng tiap tahlilan, bahkan sampe ke tahlilan 100 hari, 1000 hari pun mereka masih inget.

Setelah per-UN-an selesai bahkan mereka setiap hari dateng ke rumah gua, just to check me out, make sure that I was okay. Ngajak jalan-jalan naik motor dengan alasan survey calon sekolah (ngakak) atau sekedar main warnet ngga jelas. Yang jelas, they were there, nuntun gua jalan dari kesuraman. They might be tulil-tulil, ngocol-ngocol, goblo-goblo, dan suka salah ngasihh strategi buat pdkt, but they are my precious friends. Mereka nunjukin, kalo emang orang yang sayang dan peduli (apapun konteksnya), ngga akan cuma sekedar ngasih ucapan, tapi aksi nyata, karena itulah yang dibutuhin. Mereka yang ngajarin kalo bertepuk sebelah tangan itu ngga boleh dijadiin jalan hidup. Ada give and take. They deserve to be happy, and I am more than willing to help them life happily.

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rosalind-of-arden · 5 years ago

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Smoke and Iron Reread chapter 26-27

We finally have Jess in the same room as Wolfe and Santi again! Now we just need to get the poor boy in the same place as Morgan for once. Here comes more trauma!

If I’ve got the timeline right, Khalila’s group has been in Alexandria for at least a week by now, maybe more like two weeks. Jess is in contact with the Spanish ambassador, but hasn’t heard anything about them. Alvaro is playing his cards very close.

Jess asks “Where was the duty and honor in what had just happened?” So are these values taught to all High Garda? The training program doesn’t seem to be company-specific. They’re definitely values Santi holds, but there are other High Garda we’ve seen who aren’t sticking to them.

Wolfe’s condition as of this reunion with Jess: “His hair was a matted, graying mess, and he looked paler and more wild than Jess had ever seen him, but it was Scholar Wolfe. Bruised, and from the look in his eyes, half-mad, but alive.” He also looks weak. First of all, that hair has to be driving him nuts. And he has visible bruises (assuming on his face, since he’s clothed... or is he? Jess doesn’t say. Dammit, Jess), so he’s been treated roughly by the guards and/or Artifex/Archivist, at a bare minimum. A quick round of some form of torture that wouldn’t be too physically incapacitating isn’t out of the question. His mental state is bad enough that Jess can see his distress, which is saying something considering how determined he was to hide it when he left his cell.

The Archivist claims that nothing was done to Wolfe. Even putting aside the fact that just being in prison is fucking traumatic for Wolfe, even disregarding the inhumane prison conditions, Wolfe has bruises that he didn’t have before. Something happened.

The Archivist is also an overly familiar dick who calls Wolfe by his first name.

Wolfe’s voice is “rusty and hollow and haunted.” He begins with a sentence fragment. Not good signs, there. Also, note that he does not suggest that Jess left him out of the plan because he would refuse to participate himself. He asks if Jess left him out because he wouldn’t let Jess do something so risky. Such. A. Dad.

Poor Neska. Here’s the Archivist again throwing away talented and intelligent people in his paranoia.

Wolfe’s silence as resistance: He says nothing at all to the Archivist, and Jess finds that frightening.

Once they’re away from the Archivist, Wolfe’s first words to Jess are to tell him to give his newly traumatized brother space. Immediately after that, he asks about Santi. Jess can’t even let him finish that sentence.

Jess doesn’t know how Santi is? Time for Wolfe to break out the defensive snark.

Wolfe doesn’t bother to correct Jess’s assumptions about how he and Santi would have responded to the plan. He also doesn’t want Jess’s apology. He needs to focus on making escape plans. He’s not going to be able to stay sane otherwise. Jess is right that Wolfe isn’t “broken to his core”, but Wolfe is more fragile than he wants to let on.

Wolfe knows when something unexpected has happened. He doesn’t know it’s a rescue, but he does recognize the opportunity that this unplanned stop could represent. More focus on action.

Barricades and checkpoints have become so commonplace and routine in Alexandria that Santi’s troops can use them to spring this ambush without the Elites suspecting anything. Regular High Garda vs Elite rivalry probably also helps. The Archivist set himself up to lose his valuable prisoners this way.

“Damn your soul to the crocodiles.” Nice colorful language there.

Cleaning barracks toilets must be a common High Garda punishment.

Troll is a good actor.

Santi’s company steals chemical weapons technology from the Burners. Just how long ago was “a while ago”? This seems like the sort of thing Wolfe might have helped with. Give him a sample, have him work out how to duplicate it.

Naturally, the first thing Wolfe asks about is Santi. He says “Nic” with these soldiers, not “Santi.” A sign that these guys are friends, not just employees, to Santi? And Botha doesn’t even wait for him to finish the sentence, either. He reassures him right away. Everyone knows how important this is to Wolfe.

And poor Wolfe immediately goes from being worried about Santi to being worried about Santi seeing him in such bad shape. “But he’s seen me far worse.” So there’s how this compares to post-Rome Wolfe.

The Spanish embassy has space for military storage, large enough for at least five troop carriers. Is this normal? A sign the Spanish have been plotting?

Glain is wearing a High Garda uniform. Santi isn’t. Interesting.

“Wolfe, who was staring motionless at Santi.” Do I suspect Wolfe is having a little moment of questioning whether this is real? Why yes, I do.

“Santi, who was moving straight for Wolfe, slowly, as if he couldn’t believe his lover wouldn’t vanish.” I don’t think Jess is reading Santi right here. Santi isn’t the one at risk of losing his grip on reality. Santi is, however, very aware of how bad of condition Wolfe might be in, and he wouldn’t want to startle him with sudden movement. He’s moving slowly to make sure Wolfe feels safe.

Still love Thomas insisting that Jess watch the Wolfe/Santi reunion.

Wolfe is shaking, Santi is right there to hold him and support them.

“The sound that he made came deep from his soul, a raw sound of relief that seemed to echo through the air.” So everyone complains about how writing romance with characters who use the same pronoun can make things annoyingly ambiguous. Now let’s talk about how it can be ambiguous in a good way. Look at this. We don’t know whether it’s Wolfe or Santi crying out in relief here. The first clause in that sentence uses both characters’ names, so no grammatical clue there. Jess might not know. It could be either of them, it could be both, and it doesn’t fucking matter. They are so relieved to be together again that we have temporarily blurred them together through pronoun use.

Here’s Santi assessing Wolfe’s health while he apologizes for not being with him. And here’s Wolfe assuring Santi that whether he was physically present or not, he was still, in a way, there. And then we get a kiss. Such delicious emotional payoff after watching them struggling without each other for most of the book.

You’ve all already read my speculation, in fic form, on why Santi is running off to Jess’s room instead of staying with Wolfe. Wolfe must have sent him on some errand, or asked him to go away long enough to squeeze a quick shower in, or something. Only other way I can see Santi leaving Wolfe alone would be if they got into a fight, but I’m not sure either of them would be inclined to bicker this soon after being reunited. Wolfe’s pretty annoyed when he catches Santi picking on Jess, and he’s still very quick to soften up.

So here’s Santi, stuck with nothing to do, full of trauma-inspired rage. He’s probably remembering how Wolfe was after Rome and worrying about how much trauma Wolfe is trying to hide now. There is nobody standing between him and Jess, unlike Dario, who had Khalila to stop Santi from coming after him. Santi needs to do something, and the most productive thing he can come up with is taking revenge on the one he blames for Wolfe being hurt.

Calm Santi is scary Santi. Especially when he’s got a hand on your throat.

Santi still suspects Dario came up with the plan. Dario is damn lucky that Santi respects Khalila and has been busy enough with their plans not to come after him.

Jess very likely saves his own life by not fighting back. In Santi’s mind, when he attacks Jess, he’s seeing Jess as a threat. That’s not rational - it’s entirely a response to seeing Wolfe hurt - but it’s how he sees Jess. Thus the immediate and vicious attack. Jess failing to behave as a threat is what shakes Santi out of treating him as one. His core values won’t let him kill a helpless victim. When he starts to think rationally, he’s shocked by his own behavior, but then Jess starts to talk, and Santi starts seeing him as a threat again, but this time he has enough control to respond only verbally. It’s not until he starts thinking about how Wolfe would not appreciate his overprotectiveness that he really calms down.

What bothers Santi most? That Wolfe would have been alone. The idea of Wolfe going through more trauma alone and/or dying alone really upsets him.

If there was a Wolfe/Santi fight before this scene, I suspect it was about this idea of Santi’s that he should send Wolfe away to somewhere safe. Wolfe would obviously not have been at all impressed with that idea.

Here are Santi’s controlling tendencies rearing up in response to trauma. “I want to send him out of here, away from all this, and never let him come back.” “Let him”, really Santi? But he immediately admits that of course Wolfe would refuse to be controlled.

Also interesting: Santi wants to send Wolfe away. Not take him. Santi is at this point fully committed to reforming the Library. I suspect he’s realized that Wolfe can never really be safe while the current Curia remain in power.

I do appreciate the way that Santi, when he recognizes he’s fucked up, owns up to it and apologizes. That’s a good example for the kids.

Santi and Jess put their differences aside and agree on protecting Wolfe. Wolfe is not impressed. And Santi knows right away that he’s in trouble. Doesn’t get him out of the lecture.

How much did it help Wolfe just to be able to clean up right after getting out of prison? How much is he connecting this time to his memories of Santi helping him bathe last time?

This whole Wolfe lecture is delightful, both the prickly beginning and the softer conclusion. And Wolfe’s got this in him when he’s barely able to stand.

Wolfe vs. Santi. Round wtf is it now, 12? Obvious winner is Wolfe. Score’s up to 7-3, Wolfe is the lead.

How do we know Wolfe has really adopted Jess? Here he is letting Jess see him sink into Santi’s arms. He’s letting Jess see him being both weak and affectionate.

Look at the difference in Wolfe and Santi in how they react to “a broken bone heals twice as strong.” Wolfe used it as a mantra to comfort himself, and tries to comfort Santi with it here. Santi laughs when he hears it, but his laugh “sounded unsteady and half-desperate.” Remembering that first night comforts Wolfe, but it triggers Santi. That night was the beginning of recovery for Wolfe, but it was traumatic for Santi.

Memories, also. Santi: “I remember everything. That’s the curse of it.” Wolfe: “That’s the beauty of it.” Santi definitely finds those memories of Wolfe’s return traumatic. A lot of ways we can read Wolfe’s statement there. He may just be pointing out that it’s a good thing that Santi even has all of his memories; Wolfe might not have recovered all of his, even with the mesmer. He might be talking specifically about the night of their reunion after Rome, which he just referred to. It’s a beautiful, comforting memory for him. It’s not for Santi. Wolfe might also be recognizing that there is value even in traumatic memories. Obviously, he hasn’t reached the point of accepting all of his yet: he’s still actively repressing some as of his next chapter. But he’s decided that kind of acceptance is something to aspire to.

Glain gets the best lines. To Jess and Dario: “Stop squabbling about the size of your-” Sadly, Khalila interrupts.

Santi has already gathered his company and started recruiting other High Garda allies.

#The Great Library #smoke and iron reread #smoke and iron spoilers #torture

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christophe76460 · 3 years ago

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L'ANGE ET LE PASTEUR !

L'ange de l'Éternel s'est présenté à un pasteur, pour lui demander de faire un bilan à mi-parcours de la gestion des âmes qui lui ont été confiées par le Seigneur,

L'homme de Dieu a fixé l'ange un court instant, le temps pour lui de bien réaliser ce qui était en train de se passer.

Il a ensuite pris la parole avec un air plutôt confiant et satisfait pour établir le point ci après :

Au début c'était vraiment difficile et frustrant, mais je rends grâce au Seigneur de ce que nous avons désormais pris le large...

La construction du temple et des infrastructures annexes est achevée depuis pratiquement 2 ans,

Le nombre de fidèles ne cesse d'augmenter depuis que nous appliquons nos nouvelles stratégies de croissance,

Les caisses de l'Eglise sont désormais capables de supporter les charges, mais aussi de financer quelques projets moyens,

Nous célébrons des mariages presque tous les mois,

Beaucoup de chômeurs ont eu du travail, sans compter les témoignages de promotions dans les services,

Chaque année des élèves et étudiants décrochent leurs examens, avec pour certains des bourses d'études à l'étranger...

Voilà un peu...

Quand il a fini de parler l'ange qui le fixait de manière attentive et sans émotions lui a posé une petite question toute simple :

C'est cela le bilan de ta pastorale ? Est ce pour ces choses là que tu as été établi ?

Et l'ange de poursuivre avec une série de questions

Qu'est ce que tu prêches comme message ?

Combien des membres que tu revendiques se sont vraiment repentis de leurs oeuvres pour marcher dans les voies du Seigneur,

Combien se détournent de leurs péchés pour se tenir dans la justice du royaume ?

Sais tu que ton panier à offrandes est rempli du salaire de l'iniquité, et que les murs de ton temple se sont élevés avec le butin de la fraude ?

C'est quoi ce commerce que tu as initié avec le nom du Seigneur, au point de rendre l'exercice de ton ministère payant a bien des égards,

Sais tu combien d'avortement il y a eu dans ton église ces 3 derniers mois ?

Pourquoi honore tu ton épouse et ta parenté plus que le Seigneur, au point de leur permettre de faire ce qu'il veulent dans l'oeuvre ?

Puis L'ange garda le silence, fixa l'homme de Dieu et commença à s'élever en disant sur un ton solennel les paroles de Malachie 2:5-8

" Levi a eu pour moi de la crainte. Il a tremblé devant mon Nom. La loi de la vérité était dans sa bouche, et l'iniquité ne s'est point trouvé sur ses lèvres.

Il a marché avec moi dans la paix et dans la droiture , et il a détourné du mal beaucoup d'hommes.... Mais vous, vous êtes écartés de la voie ! "

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michaelmcnamaratd · 3 years ago

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Wider supports are required for domestic abuse support organisations in light of 2020 figures released to me and 2021 highlighting a further increase in reports of domestic abuse in Ireland over the last 12 months. According to an RTE Investigates programme, to be aired tonight, the number of breaches of court protection orders in domestic abuse cases reported to An Garda “increased by more than 60% during the pandemic”, when compared with 2018 and 2019. The RTÉ programme will also examine how many services across the country are describing themselves as "overwhelmed". In March 2021, I received figures showing that that Gardaí received approximately 43,000 calls to respond to domestic abuse incidents during 2020, representing a 16% increase on 2019. The figures sourced by RTÉ Primetime show that this figure increased to 48,400 in 2021. The year-on-year increase is alarming but unsurprising considering the public commentary by domestic abuse support organisations over the past year. While there are a number of organisations across Ireland working tirelessly to provide professional support to domestic abuse survivors, it is clear that wider supports are needed in light of the growing incidences of domestic abuse. RTÉ Investigates - https://lnkd.in/eqkz3Bj7

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kabargames · 4 years ago

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Cara Dapat Skin Gratis di Event Blazing West Mobile Legends

(function(d,a,b,l,e,_) if(d[b]&&d[b].q)return;d[b]=function()[]).push(arguments);e=a.createElement(l); e.async=1;e.charset='utf-8';e.src='//static.dable.io/dist/plugin.min.js'; _=a.getElementsByTagName(l)[0];_.parentNode.insertBefore(e,_); )(window,document,'dable','script'); dable('setService', 'kabargames.id'); dable('sendLogOnce'); dable('renderWidget', 'dablewidget_1oV9EjXP'); Mengenal dan memahami Tier List karakter Genshin Impact sangat berpengaruh dalam jalannya permainan. Semakin kamu mengenal kekuatan masing-masing karakter Genshin Impact, kamu bisa mengatur strategi permainan menjadi lebih baik. Selain menghadirkan gameplay yang sangat menarik, MiHoYo selaku pengembangnya juga menampilkan karakter-karakter Genshin Impact dengan sangat baik. Ada banyak karakter yang disajikan dalam game ini, setidaknya sekitas 23 karakter dengan kemampuan yang berbeda-beda. Baca Juga : 12 Situs Download Game PC Gratis di 2020 (Bajakan) Jenis-Jenis Interaksi Antar Elemen di Genshin Impact Cara Masuk dan Bermain Spiral Abyss di Genshin Impact Harus Tahu! Ini Build Senjata Terbaik Diluc Genshin Impact Savage! Ini Dia Build Senjata Terbaik Qiqi di Genshin Impact googletag.cmd.push(function() googletag.display('div-gpt-ad-9949385-2'); ); Terkadang para gamer senang sekali berpetualang sambil mencari karakter-karakter baru. Mengoleksi karakter Genshin Impact memang sangat menarik, mengingat setiap karakter memiliki kemampuan yang berbeda dengan yang lainnya. Berikut ini Kabar Games sajikan karakter-karakter yang ada dalam Genshin Impact melalui tier list. Setidaknya ada 5 tier list karakter Genshin Impact. Dengan mengetahui kemampuan serta rank yang dimiliki oleh masing-masing karakter, kamu bisa mengatur formasi tim sebaik mungkin. Tier D NATIVE CONTENT Kimi Hime: Biodata, Fakta, Meme, Foto & Thumbnail Seksi di YT KameAam: Biodata, Fakta & Foto Cosplay Seksi Mobile Legend Lola Zieta: Biodata, Fakta & Kumpulan Foto Cosplay Seksi Sarah Viloid: Biodata, Fakta & Kumpulan Foto Seksi Tier list karakter Genshin Impact yang pertama adalah tier D. Tier D merupakan tier paling rendah yang ada di Genshin Impact. Tier ini diisi oleh satu karakter yakni Amber. Saat kamu mulai bermain karakter gadis pemanah ini akan otomatis kamu miliki. Amber Karakter Genshin Impact pertama yang masuk ke dalam Tier D adalah Amber. Karakter yang satu ini memiliki kekuatan elemen berupa Pyro. Di samping itu, karakter Amber juga berperan sebagai petarung jarak jauh. Dengan menggunakan senjata berupa panah dan disertai dengan elemen pyro, Amber cukup menjadi karakter yang merepotkan untuk para musuh. Loading… (function()var D=new Date(),d=document,b='body',ce='createElement',ac='appendChild',st='style',ds='display',n='none',gi='getElementById',lp=d.location.protocol,wp=lp.indexOf('http')==0?lp:'https:';var i=d[ce]('iframe');i[st][ds]=n;d[gi]("M450849ScriptRootC398142")[ac](i);tryvar iw=i.contentWindow.document;iw.open();iw.writeln("");iw.close();var c=iw[b];catch(e)var iw=d;var c=d[gi]("M450849ScriptRootC398142");var dv=iw[ce]('div');dv.id="MG_ID";dv[st][ds]=n;dv.innerHTML=398142;c[ac](dv);var s=iw[ce]('script');s.async='async';s.defer='defer';s.charset='utf-8';s.src=wp+"//jsc.mgid.com/k/a/kabargames.id.398142.js?t="+D.getYear()+D.getMonth()+D.getUTCDate()+D.getUTCHours();c[ac](s);)(); Tier C Tier list karakter Genshin Impact berikutnya adalah tier C. Bisa dibilang, karakter-karakter yang masuk dalam tier C ini memiliki kekuatan yang lebih lemah dibandingkan dengan yang lainnya. Selain itu, jarak kekuatan dengan karakter yang memiliki tier lebih tinggi juga cukup besar. Sehingga, jika kamu menggunakan karakter dari tier C ini, kamu akan kesulitan dalam menyesuaikan party yang diikutsertakan. Setidaknya ada 6 karakter Genshin Impact yang masuk ke dalam tier C ini. yakni, Baca Juga : Joseph Free Fire (FF): Review, Skills, Tips & Kombo Terbaik DJ Alok Free Fire (FF): Review, Skills, Tips & Kombo Terbaik A124 Free Fire (FF): Review, Skills, Tips & Kombo Terbaik Kapella Free Fire (FF): Review, Skills, Tips & Kombo Terbaik Luqueta Free Fire (FF): Review, Skills, Tips & Kombo Terbaik Noelle Berikutnya ada Noelle. Karakter Genshin Impact, Noelle memiliki kekuatan elemen Geo. Dilengkapi dengan senjata Claymore, Noelle mampu menjadi garda terdepan dalam setiap pertempuran. Beidou Berbeda dengan sebelumnya, Beidou memiliki kekuatan elemen elektro. Selain itu, sama seperti Noelle, Beidou dibekali dengan senjata Claymore yang bisa memberikan efek cukup besar. Lisa Berbeda dengan Xingqiu, Lisa memiliki kekuatan elemen electro. Apabila kamu mengaktifkan kekuatan petir Lisa. Kamu bisa mengenai banyak musuh dalam sekali serang. Bennet Bennet memiliki kekuatan elemen yang sama dengan Amber, yaitu berupa elemen pyro. Untuk menambah daya serangnya, karakter Bennet bisa dibekali dengan senjata pedang. Tier B Di atas tier C, terdapat tier B yang memiliki kekuatan cukup tinggi apabila dibandingkan dengan yang sebelumnya. Meskipun tidak terlalu besar, karakter tier B cukup mampu untuk menarik perhatian beberapa gamer. Xingqiu Karakter Genshin Impact pertama dari tier B adalah Xingqiu. Karakter ini memiliki kekuatan elemen hydro yang mana mampu menguruh musuh dalam lingkaran air. Guna meningkatkan kekuatannya, karakter Xingqiu bisa ditambahakan senjata berupa pedang untuk menyerang para musuh. Dengan senjatanya itu, Xingqiu bisa memberikan efek yang lumayan besar. Traveler Sama seperti Noelle, Traveler memiliki kekuatan elemen berupa Geo. Hanya saja, jika Noelle dibekali dengan senjata Claymore, Traveler dilengkapi dengan senjata sword. Dengannya, kamu bisa melakukan tebasan yang bisa mengenai banyak orang. Sucrose Karakter Genshin Impact berikutnya ada Sucrose, yang mampu memberikan dampak besar melalui kekuatan elemennya. Selain itu, biasanya Sucrose berperan sebagai pengontrol pertarungan dengan tim lain dengan menggunakan bantuan wind. Ningguang Jika karakter sebelumnya hanya berfokus pada serangan, karakter Ningguang justru sebaliknya. Karakter Ningguang memiliki kekuatan elemen Geo. Karena itulah karakter yang satu ini biasa menjadi tembok pertahanan para pemain lain. Klee (DPS) Berikutnya ada Klee dengan kekuatan elemen pyro. Karakter yang satu ini juga ahli dalam pertarungan jarak jauh. Kaeya (Support) Tier A Setelah tier B, ada karakter yang lebih kuat lagi, yakni mereka yang masuk ke dalam tier A. Ada banyak karakter yang masuk dalam tier A ini, di antaranya adalah sebagai berikut. Xiangling Terakhir di tier B terdapat karakter Xiangling. Karakter ini memiliki kekuatan elemen berupa Pyro. Xiangling memiliki gerakan yang lincah sehingga cocok apabila digunakan untuk pertarungan jarak dekat. Barbara Karakter Genshin Impact tier A yang pertama adalah Barbara. Karakter ini memiliki kekuatan elemen hydro yang bisa mengeluarkan air dalam jumlah besar. Xiao Karakter Genshin Impact selanjutnya ada Xiao. Karakter ini memiliki kekuatan elemen Anemo yang bisa membuatnya terbang untuk menjelajahi area pertarungan. Traveler Tidak jauh berbeda dengan tier, pada tier B ini juga terdapat karakter traveller. Hanya saja, dalam tier B ini, karakter Traveler memiliki kekuatan elemen anemo. Karakter ini dilengkapi dengan senjata pedang yang mampu memberikan serangan cukup besar. Chongyun (DPS) Jean (Healer) Keqing (DPS) Mona (DPS) Razor (DPS) Tier S Tier S menjadi tier dengan karakter yang memiliki kekuatan super tinggi. Diluc Karakter Genshin Impact tier S yang pertama adalah Diluc. Dengan kekuatan elemen pyro dan senjata Claymore, Diluc menjadi salah satu karakter yang memiliki daya serang tinggi. Venti Berikutnya ada karakter Venti yang memiliki kekuatan elemen Anemo. Dengan elemen Anemo itu, Venti dapat bergerak dengan cepat untuk menghindari serangan musuh. Fischl Karakter yang satu ini bisa mengolaborasikan elemen electro dengan burung gagak, Oz. dengan begitu, efek yang ditumbalkan juga menjadi besar. Qiqi Terakhir ada karakter Qiqi pada tier S. karakter yang satu ini memiliki kekuatan elemen Cyro. Ditambah dengan senjata pedang, karakter Qiqi menjadi punya daya serang tinggi untuk menaklukkan lawan-lawannya. Itulah beberapa tier list karakter Genshin Impact yang harus kamu tahu. Nantikan terus informasi terupdate seputar game, gadget dan anime hanya di Kabar Games. Supaya kamu tidak ketinggalan berita, kamu bisa follow akun Instagram dan Facebook Kabar Games. Jangan lupa tinggalkan komentar kalian ya! (function(d,a,b,l,e,_) if(d[b]&&d[b].q)return;d[b]=function()[]).push(arguments);e=a.createElement(l); e.async=1;e.charset='utf-8';e.src='//static.dable.io/dist/plugin.min.js'; _=a.getElementsByTagName(l)[0];_.parentNode.insertBefore(e,_); )(window,document,'dable','script'); dable('setService', 'kabargames.id'); dable('sendLogOnce'); dable('renderWidget', 'dablewidget_KoEP9KXB');

https://www.kabargames.id/cara-dapat-skin-gratis-di-event-blazing-west-mobile-legends/

#Event, #MOBA #MobileLegends

#Event #MOBA #Mobile Legends

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toyystory · 5 years ago

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Minggu, 3 Mei 2020

Sehabis sahur, aku menerima pesan dari sahabatku, dokter yang sedang iship di salah satu rumah sakit di Serang.

Ia mengabari, ternyata pasien igd yg pernah ia tangani sekarang berstatus positif dari hasil rapid test nya, dan kabar tersebut baru diketahui kemarin tgl 2 Mei.

"Doakan aku, semoga besok saat rapid test hasilnya negatif, sehingga bisa kumpul bersama keluarga seperti biasa lagi"

Aku hanya bisa membalas dengan kata kata positif, mencoba boosting keadaan, karena sungguh, hal seperti ini hanya bisa di tanggapi dengan doa dan support.

Lalu aku membaca ceritanya tentang bagaimana dia mengisolasi dirinya dirumah, sebagai upaya preventif sebagai carrier, karena kebetulan ayahnya masih dalam masa pemulihan pasca operasi bypass jantung, resiko tinggi.

Setelah membaca semuanya, sedih rasanya. Pulang jaga igd dengan segala kelelahannya, ia harus masuk rumah dan langsung mengisolasi diri di lt.2 tanpa bertemu keluarga, buka puasa dan sahur sendiri, makanan hanya diantar dan ditaruh di depan pintu kamar, sholat tarawih pun sendiri walaupun keluarga yg lain tetap berjamaah. Baju kotor harus dibersihkan sendiri dan terpisah, cuci alat makan pun demikian. Tentunya ia baru bisa keluar kamar untuk cuci piring saat malam hari ketika semua sudah masuk kamar, dan tidak lupa, harus pakai masker.

Iya, semua itu ia lakukan didalam rumahnya sendiri.

Sampai situ, aku sudah tidak tega.

Belum lagi kabar baru yg kudapat, rs tempat dia iship ternyata belum tentu akan memberikan rapid test kepadanya dan dokter lainnya yg kebetulan mengalami kasus yg sama denganya. Mengetahui itu, hatiku hancur.

Air mata sudah tak lagi bisa kutampung. Mereka yg menjadi garda terdepan, yg tetap melaksanankan kewajibannya dengan mempertaruhkan nyawa tanpa fasilitas alat perlindungan yg memadai, bahkan tidak diberikan kesempatan untuk melakukan rapid test setelah diketahui pernah kontak dengan pasien yg statusnya positif.

Rasanya, negara berhutang nyawa dengan seluruh nakes. Jika rapid test kepada yg berhak saja tidak diberikan, apa lagi cara yg bisa dilakukan untuk menghargai jasa para nakes ini?!

Ya Rahman, Ya Rahim, lindungilah seluruh nakes dan semua petugas yg sedang berjuang menjadi garda terdepan selama masa pandemi ini. Kuatkanlah hatinya, sehingga tidak ada yg bisa mengalahkan dan menyakiti mereka. Dan ridhoilah mereka untuk berjuang di jalanMu.

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mrkumkum · 5 years ago

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Hari ini tepat pada pukul 19:00, Nevertoolavish bersama 14 seniman grafiti dan ilustrator akan melakukan lelang untuk kebaikan. Dengan gerakan #NTLANDFRIENDSBERBAGI kita berharap dapat berkontribusi untuk berbagi kepada yang sedang membutuhkan di garda terdepan perlawanan terhadap COVID-19⁣ ⁣ Our Thoughtful Artists:⁣ @hardthirteen @darbotz @kevinswork @muklay @mrkumkum @olderplus @onesonesan @tutugraff @mr.wormo @stereoflow_id @blesmokie @herzven @zzzany13 @arkivvilmansa⁣ ⁣ Hasil dari lelang ini akan kita donasikan ke beberapa tempat/penyalur agar menjadi manfaat bagi tenaga medis sebagai garda depan dari perjuangan melawan COVID-19 ini. Seluruh bukti penyaluran akan di laporkan di Instagram NTL⁣ ⁣ Pemenang lelang akan mendapatkan:⁣ - Sepatu Air Force 1 Triple White Handpainted Artisan Series Special Custom, sehingga size akan mengikuti size para pemenang⁣ - NTL Special Wooden Box yang di sign oleh NTL dan Artisan⁣ - Certificate of Authenticity yang di sign oleh NTL dan Artisan⁣ ⁣ Seluruh hasil lelang 100% akan di donasikan tanpa dipotong biaya apapun⁣ ⁣ Thank you untuk @kick.avenue yang sudah support !⁣ ⁣ Lets bid for blessing⁣ ⁣ Our Thoughtful Media Partners:⁣ @urbansneakersociety @pahi.id @jakartasneakerday @indosneakerteam_ @soboyow @garduhouse⁣ ⁣ #NTLANDFRIENDSBERBAGI https://www.instagram.com/p/B-bsxY0H4x9/?igshid=1w4g28fevauev

#ntlandfriendsberbagi

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whosdavidphillips · 7 years ago

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My Trip to Iraq

2016-May-18

A blog about my travel to Iraq - Written by David Phillips

The journey to;

I flew from Winnipeg to Toronto at 10:45am on Wednesday May 18th, 2016. This is such a great time of the day to fly. You don’t need to wake up early, the airport is never too busy, and I had time to spend with the family in the morning, helping get the kids fed, dressed and ready for daycare. I hugged everyone extra hard. While I was sure I would be safe on my journey and return home in one piece, certainly the risks were higher than an average work trip or day in the field. I looked deep into Chantelle’s eyes. “I love you” I said, “I’ll come home to you, don’t worry”. With that they were off to daycare and work and I rushed back inside the house to get ready. I chose to travel with back packs. A day pack that was crammed with everything I'd need for an overseas flight and a 70L hiking pack, filled to the brim with rolled up shirts. Enough for 11 days. I hopped in a cab and headed to the airport nice and early. Avoiding as much stress on this part of my journey as I could.

The flight to Toronto was uneventful. I chatted with the person beside me who had his cottage roof go up in flames over the weekend. Not from the recent wildfires that were running rampant in Southeast Manitoba and Northwest Ontario, but from a few young, drunk neighbors shooting fireworks off at 1:00 in the morning. None of that seemed to matter. I wanted to be polite, but I didn't care, I was focused on the trip ahead. I was starting to wonder if I'd made the stupidest decision of my life. Feeling like I should maybe back out. Could I back out? I felt like I had no choice at this point. On an airplane, paid for by my company, about to board an intercontinental flight. I was stuck.

In Toronto I picked up my bag and waited for Rene. This gave me a chance to move some items around. Things I realized I didn’t need to take on the plane, and things I had in my checked luggage that I suddenly thought I might want. Rene arrived. He had far less equipment then I thought he would have. But everything was there, all the test instruments and hand tools we needed to test the Bio-safety cabinets. We line up to check in. No automated service with Austrian Air, in Toronto, we had to wait in this huge line. Finally we see the attendant for check in.

“Mr Phillips, you are traveling with Mr. Soetens?”

'Yes”, I reply, “I believe we are sitting together”?

“No, I'm sorry, there's a problem with your seats” the attendant says. I’m worried. What could that mean? Would one of us have to stay back? Would I have to navigate Vienna airport by myself? Rene knows some dutch which I was counting on for getting around.

“You’ve both been upgraded to business class”....

I couldn't keep the smile from jumping off the sides of my face. My dad has flown enough overseas for me to know, this is the only way to go! Priority lines and first class service all the way to Vienna.

We board first, priority service. The seats are amazing. A full cockpit with tables and lamps, plug ins of every kind. The seat is customizable in many ways, lumbar support, head support, full recline, and of course, full recline into a wonderfully comfortable bed. We’re offered a hot cloth and champagne as the rest of the plane boards. People scoff as they get on the plane. So many people. It was a huge plane. I don’t know what type it is. Huge. And Full. While everyone gets seated and the safety movie is showing, a chef, an actual chef, with the white fluffy hat and apron comes to take a few orders. First supper, atlantic salmon with all the trimmings and to compliment, I order a nice glass of white wine. He also takes our breakfast order, the menu is full of options. Eggs bendict, whole wheat pancakes, fruit, yogurts, eggs done any way you want, it goes on and on. I make my order and sit back to relax. It’s late for my body clock, but there are so many good movies to watch! I’m almost too excited to sleep! I finally convert my chair into a full bed and nod off. It feels like I just closed my eyes when I get a gentle rub on my shoulder. “Sir, it’s breakfast time, we’ll be landing in one hour” the attendant tells me. I sit my chair up and breakfast arrives, hot and fresh. This is the life….

We land in Vienna and navigate to the nearest washroom to freshen up. Funny how something as simple as a washroom, is so much different in another country. All the “things” are there, sink, toilet, mirror, ect, but everything is different! I got a good tip from my folks who fly internationally often. Change of socks and underwear, and all the toiletries to freshen up. I meet back up with Rene and I manage to make our way through the dutch signage to our gate for our Erbil flight. Plenty of time to spare. I Look around the boarding area. “So who else is crazy enough to go to Iraq” I wonder? There are several very well dressed business men. Nationals I assume. Several women with small children and babies. Families. All in all, no one looked crazy. The flight is half full. Erbil Iraq is part of the Kurdistan region and we have been informed that it is much more secure and stable than the rest of Iraq. It’s a fairly normal flight, although long, and we are in coach, which takes a bit of adjustment after the flight we had previously been on. We land in Erbil and pick up our bags; for some reason have to put them through a scanner on the way out! Our equipment sets off all kinds of red flags, as usual. The security guard asks “what's in the black case”. It’s one of those Pelican hard cases that’s waterproof and expensive. The kind that you know is holding something fancy. He wants it opened. We comply. He looks inside,

“what is this?” He asks in broken English.

Rene: “it's a photometer”.

Iraqi security guard, “yes, a photometer”.... He looked like he was embarrassed, as if he should have known that. Without further ado he clears the box and we’re off. We meet our security rep who greets and briefs us on a the security situation in Erbil. The trip is planned out very carefully by our hosts from the US. A certain level of security is provided at each location as soon as we enter Iraq.

“Erbil has very very good security” he says in his Iraqi accent, “safe here”. We start driving toward our hotel. The 5-star Divan, Erbil. As we are driving, we notice walls everywhere. Every community is gated and surrounded by walls. Some are sheet metal, some are stone, brick, concrete. There are a lot of buildings in the middle of construction. Cranes hang idle over tall cement structures. The skeletons of the buildings.

“There’s lots of construction here” Rene comments.

“Yes, last year we are building many buildings,” our local national security rep says “this year is stopped. No money. This year is not good year for Kurdistan. We cross our fingers and hope that next year will be better”.

We arrive at the front of our hotel entrance. It's gorgeous from the outside. Beautiful stone, gold trim, fountains, very luxurious looking. But as everything else is, it is surrounded by thick, tall concrete walls. We drive up to the front entrance of the gate. There’s a security shack and many guards. There's a heavy steel wall that comes up from the ground about 3 feet. The wall is above the bumper of our SUV, it’s clearly designed to stop anyone from forcefully driving in, I’d bet it would even stop a tank. The security rep knows the guards. We pull up, “Salam” he says. He speaks to them briefly and we are let through. The metal knee wall is lowered into the ground and we start to drive toward the front doors. Down from the entrance gate is a guard, hiding in bushes, watching us come in. He has a large assault rifle, in hand, ready to be used. He watches us carefully as we pass. As we pull up, vallets help us out and take our luggage. Metal detectors at the front entrance give us a second assurance of security. We check in and view our rooms. They are beautiful. If you ever find yourself in Erbil, I recommend the Divan hotel! We eat at the buffet, $50 American dollars each, but it’s well worth it. We eat and sleep well that night. Heading to Baghdad the next morning. Rene and I make a plan to meet around 10:00 local time. 10:05 rolls around so I knock on his door, he’s still sleeping! 13 hours worth of sleeping for him and he’s caught up and ready to roll!!!

Arrival in Baghdad;

The plane from Erbil to Baghdad is only an hour. It's an older plane, no features, just a tray in the seat back. We were given the exit aisle row because “we’re taller”, the booking agent said. The plane was barely half full, I start to wonder… Is it only crazies on this plane? Everyone looks at you with shifty eyes. “Because we are Canadian”? Or because they are wondering just how crazy we are?! Two white guys, one old, one young, heading to Baghdad Iraq. On the plane I review for a third or fourth time the BIAP (Baghdad International Airport) entry document prepared by Garda World . This extremely thorough document describing exactly the process for airport entry off the plane, through immigration and finally through customs. It has photos of the people who will meet us in the airport. The pilot announces that we are starting the decent. We are high in the sky still and start to go into a controlled downward spiral. I start looking out the window, as if I would be able to spot incoming small arms fire, something that has been a problem in the recent past. The Iraqi security force is able to keep a small area surrounding the airport secure, so the idea is the plane flies in at or near cruising altitude, gets inside that small bubble and then spirals downward within the bubble to land. It’s a bit rough, you get a bit disoriented. Looking around, it looks like it was just us who were feeling off, everyone else seemed to be used to this kind of decent. We drop into the airport, hot and heavy. The plane parks on the taxiway and a bus comes out to pick us up. It's crammed. Standing room only. We arrive at the arrivals terminal and debark. As soon as we walk in the door, I see one of the Garda world BIAP workers is there, holding a sign with our name on it. He greets us, in English and leads us to the appropriate immigration line. He explains, “we will go through this line, present our visas and he will meet us on the other side”. When it's our turn, we present our passports. The officer glances through the pages to see where else we’ve been. Mine’s mostly empty, Rene’s is mostly full! They look at both of our visas long and hard. The officer takes my passport into a side office. He's there for a while. I’m nervous and disorented. Is this really happening? I am really trying to get into Baghdad? Finally he comes back, stamps the passport and we are on our way. We meet up with staff from the ministry of Agriculture. They are they to assist in explaining our equipment to customs. We line up and scan the bags and boxes. As usual, the aerosol generator and air compressor box and the photometer box bring the scanning line to a halt. “Sir, open this” one of the customs agents say. “What is this”? He asks.

Rene comments “this is a test instrument”.

“Test instrument?”, the Iraqi agent mumbles to himself, “ok”.

And with that, we were sent on our way! Easy. Rene commented to me that, it was the easiest customs entry he has ever had. It's harder to get out of the Toronto airport flying regionally then it was for us to enter Baghdad Iraq. Our BIAP hosts leads us to a special pick up spot. Most people are not allowed to drive up to the airport. They must take a bus to a “meeting area” outside of the final and most secure BIAP check points. Our security team drives right up to us with a white Toyota Land Cruiser that has been modified to be a certified B6 armored vehicle. A guy with a strong Scottish accent gets out.

“Good day gents” he says right away. “I’m Paul, your expat team leader. If you want to give me your bags and hop into the back of the vehicle, I’ll give you a bit of a security briefing and we’ll be off”. It's hot, bright. The driver opens the doors for us, I immediately notice the two body armor vests on the floor between the seats. We jump in, the air conditioning is powerful! Paul explains right away, “I'm not going to make you wear the body armor gents, but if you’d like, or you feel uncomfortable, you can put it on at any time”. Holy shit, I’m thinking…… What the hell are we doing here…

“Okay gents, what we’re going to do is give you gents a bit of a briefing, then head out of here and go directly into the international zone, the IZ. We’ll take you gents on a bit of a tour of the IZ and then we’ll drop you off at Dojo’s where you’ll meet Sean, my operations manager and he’ll take you from there, okay gents?”. He’s done this before…..

Paul continues, “ Now, basic security briefing here gents. The road from the BIAP to the IZ is pretty safe now. There's quite a lot of checkpoints, you’ll need your passport on you and they may want to search the vehicle. Just listen to my instructions and follow what I say. There's a medical kit in the back and I am a certified field medic. If anything happens, get as low as you can in the car and we’ll drive drive drive. If something happens to this vehicle, either my chariot vehicle at the back or the alpha vehicle at the front will pull alongside. Listen to my instructions on which side to exit, stay low, one foot on the ground and next up into the vehicle ya, and we’ll drive drive drive. If I push this button (he motions to a special button near the dash) that will signal the GW operations room that we need help and they, will send a strike force to our location. Okay gents, any questions? Are ya ready to go?”. We nod, and with that we were off. I’ll admit, there’s a bit of grin on my face that I try to hide…. This is cool….. Really cool….. Who does this kind of stuff?!

On the way to the IZ, Paul explains the road from the BIAP to the IZ, called the Irish road, used to be the most dangerous road in the world. Snipers would set up along the road and shoot cars containing westerners on a regular basis. IEDs along the roadside were commonplace. He says, that's all changed now, now it might be the safest road in the world. We pass our first check stop. A considerable amount of soldiers are milling about, all carrying AK-47’s. There are three or four army hummers with urban camouflage paint and large guns mounted on the top at various positions around the check stop. Our driver, who is a local national, flashes his IZ pass and we get waved on. I notice as we are driving, there are elevated cement turrets all over along the road. Some manned, with guns on tripods sticking out, some empty. We pass a large armored personnel carrier with several guns of varying sizes sticking out from different positions. A large, real deal, army tank sits by the side of the road, poised and ready to blow something big to oblivion. Another check stop. More turrets. And again, another check stop. This time we pull into a bay and turn off the car. An IED sniffing dog makes a pass around our three vehicle convoy. We are cleared to go and head into the IZ. Things feel a little more relaxed in the IZ. It’s basically a large area, probably 20 or 30 square city blocks. It backs against the ancient Euphrates river and has 6 entry points by road. All entry points are highly guarded, typically with at least two different guard stations on the way in. Iraqi security guards as well as Iraqi special forces man multiple stations on the same entry point. They don’t trust each other’s security screening. Very large, thick concrete walls surround the entire IZ upto the river. We pass various palaces, they are beautiful. These are the palaces that Saddam built while he was still in power. He spared no expense. We pass the Iraqi Prime Minister's office, British and Australian embassies. We take a drive past the US embassy. It's massive. Would be at least 4 or 5 city blocks together. It took about 3 or 4 minutes to drive from one end of the embassy to the other. “It's the biggest embassy in the world gents” Paul tells us. There are regular looking buildings in the IZ too. Every building, palace, office is surrounded by yet another fence, sometimes sheet metal, sometimes chain link with barbed wire. We also pass a hospital, “that’s where we’ll take you if you need a doctor gents”, Paul tells us. “it’s a good one, where ever we are, we’ll try to make it back here if you need medical care. You’ll be safe there.” We drive on a bit more, not many people around. Some vehicles, stray dogs, but for the most part, it’s quiet in the IZ. “Alright gents, I’ll take ya to Dojo’s”, Paul says.

We arrive at this battered metal gate with several vehicles out front. I notice what looks like a small guard shack, there's a guard there with an Ak-47. Not slung over his shoulder, but in his hands, ready to use if needed. Sean comes out to greet us. He is the Garda World operations commander. He is the one who calls the shots with our security team. Another British bloke. He has a gentle but serious face. White hair. He's checks us in and shows us around. The dojo’s compound is really nice on the inside, you’d never know it looking at it from the street. Green grass and local vegetation in the front court yard. Several well furnished sitting areas. We pass a nice court yard with a sitting area outside. He shows us the restaurant, it's a few 4 x 4 posts with a 2 x 4 frame and a tin roof. Plexi glass walls. It has nice flooring and several wood tables. There are large air conditioners stationed all over the place. It's hot. Next we cross the road into the remainder of the Dojo's compound, It’s split on both sides of the road we came in on. We see the gym, it’s a typical military type gym, weights, a treadmill, chin up bar and a punching bag. We view the meeting room and finally the pool. The pool area is lovely, wooden and tile deck, 2 lounge chairs, large trees surrounding. Sean takes us back across to the other side and to our rooms. Inside our residence building there's a nice pool table and dartboard. I open my room. It's older, outdated carpet and an older looking twin bed. It's Iraq! This is a 4 star hotel (for real, check trip advisor)! We drop our luggage and the body armor we’ve been given to hold onto. Sean tells us, “let’s meet at half two in the front and I’ll give you a quick security briefing. We drop our bags and stretch a bit. There’s a sense of calm, of safety. Not many people are able to stay in the safe confines of the IZ, let alone at a hotel with an armed guard at the front. We head out to meet Sean. He gives us a general security briefing, detailing extraction procedures should we need to flee dojo’s for safer ground. The Garda World compound is literally a 2 minute drive, at normal speeds from Dojo's. Sean tells us to freshen up and head to the briefing room for 15:45.

The detailed brief we received was from someone called “the RAM”. Risk Assessment Manager. This person knows as much as there is to know about the area and the people. It is his job to review the latest developments and make appropriate recommendations regarding safety, and the risk of tracking to the proposed area. We get a history of Iraq, information about the different religious groups, namely the Shi’a and the Sunni, and we get a lot of details about the breach of the IZ compound which happened on April 30. I’d been reading so much about this breach. It was a really big deal. A “million man march” swarmed the IZ check point gates and forced their way in. Many of these people were related to the guards. What could they do? They certainly wouldn't be shooting family members. The breach caught everyone in the IZ off guard, no one had any idea it was about to take place. These protestors broke into the PMs office and parliament buildings. They were upset at the current government's inability to bring change and their efforts to keep the IZ and themselves safe while the rest of Baghdadian’s and Iraqi’s were dying in terrorist attacks. People literally wandered the IZ with a free pass. We would later hear from one of the semi-permanent residences of Dojo that they just suddenly noticed a large number of people walking past the Dojo’s entrance, with no idea what was going on! The breach and other similar demonstrations/ actions were mostly organized by Moqtada Sadr. The RAM mentioned at the end of this presentation the high unlikelihood of something like that happening again. He chuckled a bit, It was embarrassing to the Iraqi government, showed weakness. The government just wouldn’t allow it…..

18:15…. I’m mostly unpacked, snapping photos of myself wearing body armor and letting my family and friends know I arrived. There’s wifi and I have an international package on my phone, it has good reception. Iraq is on ATZ time, 9 hours ahead of Winnipeg. Someone knocks at the door. It's John, one of the Garda World team leaders, an equal to Paul who led us from the airport. He’s british as well! He has also knocked on Rene’s door, who’s right beside me, and Rene is in the hallway as well.

“Guys, I just want to let you know about a bit of a situation that is developing”, he says in his strong Scottish accent. “A few protesters are starting to gather at one of the check points. It's probably nothing, but if things get worse, we’ll extract you to the Garda world HQ. If you could, please pack a day bag with your personal items and have it ready”.

“A few protesters”, I comment to Rene and John, “that doesn’t sound too bad”.

“Well it's a few hundred”, John shares. But it's far less than it was last time, so we think things will be under control”. With that he's off and we get a few things packed up. About 15 minutes later, Sean arrives at our door to fill us in. He's told us the numbers have increased. Probably a thousand people. But they haven't breached the IZ yet. We are to continue to wait and see how things unfold. I let my wife know what's up via a text. I start to notice some banging noise. It sort of sounds like someone opening and closing the doors over and over again upstairs. I’m relaxed, but things are starting to get a little tense. I’m not going to overreact though. Another knock at the door. It's Rene. “Come outside a moment” he says. We exit the residence building and the noises become clear as day. “BOOM”. “Rat-tat-tat-tat”. “BOOM, BOOM”. It reminds me of a very active thunderstorm with someone shooting off fireworks at the same time. But it's not a thunder storm. It's explosions and the sound of automatic rifles shooting off. I can’t believe my ears. I sit down in the courtyard and listen. It continues with intensity. Non stop explosions (I assumed grenades) and automatic weapons. I call Chantelle. She's panicky before I even say anything. “I called your parents” she says “I could hardly tell them what was happening”.

“See if you can hear this love,” I say and hold the phone up into the air. I hold it there for about 10 seconds as the explosions and guns fire continue. As I am doing this, a semi distressed looking Sean, the ops commander, comes bursting around the corning. “Okay boys, we’re gonna go, get your things, grab your body armor.”

I’m sitting outside still. Up until that moment, I had continued to feel fairly relaxed, that quickly ended. “I gotta go babe, we’re gonna go”. She already knew what that meant. We were being extracted to the ultra secure Garda world compound.

“Okay babe be safe” she says “I love you”.

I frantically grab my body armor and bag, already packed up with everything, and Rene and I quickly make our way to the armored car already running and waiting for us, doors open. We hop in and go. I can’t remember if there was any conversation in the car. I kept looking for signs of the action. We arrive at Garda in what feels like seconds. “Okay boys, follow me” Sean says. We head passed several of the toughest looking guys I’ve ever seen. Some with rifles, some with handguns on their hips. We are taken to the GW operations command room and are seated very comfortably in front of a TV.. Cricket is playing. Rene and I look at each other and laugh a bit. “Hell of a first day” the Ops Commander says. We’re joined by a couple of British fellows who are also there working and under the protection of Garda World. We chat and talk about cricket, eat some supper and watch more TV. Things seem to be calming down outside. The Ops Commander brings out a bottle of gin.

“At times like this, I think a gin and tonic is in order” he says. One of the Brits pours everyone a stiff Gin and tonic. It's nice. Takes the edge off the situation. We are constantly trying to find out whether the IZ had been breached. I’m searching Twitter and Iraqi news. Twitter is full of photos of protectors inside the IZ but with no real way of knowing whether they were current. Around 22:00 we return to dojo’s. “No movements tomorrow guys” Sean says “there's a city wide curfew in effect and the IZ has been completely locked down and sealed”. We’ll reassess tomorrow for movements on Sunday. It's Friday today. That's significant. Friday is the start of the Muslim weekend. They gather for special prayers and often afterwards congregate in public areas. The specific one of interest is Tahrir square, near check point 1 of the IZ. Protestors are easily able to cross a bridge from there and head towards the IZ. Rene and I make a plan to meet for breakfast and call it a night. That's day one in Baghdad.

Day two is spent relaxing, there's nothing else we can do. We are not allowed to travel outside the IZ for work and we are not allowed to leave Dojo’s compound. We hit the pool late morning. It's wonderful. Hot whether +38C, cool water. Rene and I read and chat for a few hours. We head in for lunch and do it all over again in the afternoon. When we’re not at the pool, i’m catching up on work. Rene's watching TV. Sean arrives at some point in the early evening and tells us we will be allowed to go to the CVL (central veterinary lab) tomorrow. This is good news. We prepare our equipment. The CVL houses the majority of our work. I take some time to review the GW reconnaissance info package. GW will not travel anywhere without first sending a reconnaissance team to get a lay of the land and an assessment of both the security measures in place, and the ability of the facility to defend itself. Each night, I had been setting my alarm at 3:00 AM to wake up and video call the kids before they went off to daycare. Rene and I hit the hay in good time. Pick up is at 08:30.

Day three. We load the armored Toyota Land Cruiser with our equipment, and the security team helps us into our body armor. I was a bit surprised that we were going to be wearing body armor while traveling, but maybe I shouldn’t have been. John takes us out on this trip, he's the ex pat and security detail leader. We have three vehicles. An alpha vehicle in the front, us in the middle and the chariot vehicle bringing up the rear. They are all B60 armor Toyota Land Cruisers. We get another briefing. He talks about the potential for another protest to start today. We will only allow 4 hours at this site. We need to be back at Dojo's should any protests start later in the day. We start driving, John explains to us the traffic rules… “There are no rules”, he says. “Everyone does what they want and drives where they want. There is one working traffic light in Baghdad.” I watch as the alpha vehicle skillfully pulls into traffic. He takes command of the road, he angles himself so as to block the flow for us and the chariot vehicle to enter. It's incredible to see. Cars everywhere, no order, no rules. People squeeze 4 cars into 3 painted lanes. Somehow though, we navigate through unscathed. At one point a large van tries to cut us off, I watch John shoot the driver the meanest, dirtiest look I have ever seen. If looks could kill, this car would have exploded. The driver of the van stops and signals us in, as if he had a choice. People stare at us as we drive. I’m sure we draw all kinds of attention. Not sure that's a good thing. I ask John what the locals drive. “Do those who can afford an armor car buy them”?

“No he says, it's actually illegal for nationals to own armored vehicles”.

That seems off. These people, if they had the means to afford it, still couldn't get safe vehicles to travel in? I'm starting to see the bigger picture here. That cause for the protests. They aren't allowed in the ultra safe IZ, they aren't allowed to own armored cars. They have to shop at markets and use cafes which carry the highest risks of bombings.

We arrive at the CVL and are greeted by the director, Basem. He is very happy to have us. He insists on us going into his office. I’ll later learn that this is common and is a sign of mutual respect, an office meeting prior to any work. It's large and very nice, couches and chairs run along each side leading up toward his desk. He offers coffee, tea and cookies. Something I read before coming to Iraq was that you must never refuse an offer outright. Iraqis are very generous people and it would be rude to do so. “You come to my house for dinner tonight” he says.

“Well we’ll see how the day goes, our security team will only let us out for 4 hours today” Rene says. In fact we should get working soon”. The power cuts out. This happens all the time in Iraq. The power grids can't handle the load. Only the IZ is safe from the rolling power outages. No one panics, it's normal! It comes back on about 15 seconds later. With that, we get started. No less than 15 lab staff join us to watch. People are taking pictures of everything we do. I write in my notebook “Scanlaf Mars 1200”, the name of the bio cabinet we are testing. Someone pops in and takes a picture of that! This continues throughout. We continue testing, Rene talks about proper lab techniques and bio cabinet use. We start to push our time there. I can see John is starting to get worried. He’s pacing a bit and getting antsy.

“It's time to go” he sternly tells me in his Scottish accent. I frantically start packing up equipment, not sure what to expect outside of the secure lab compound. We rush. The director wants us to stay for lunch. “What kind of wine do you prefer Mr. David” he asks.

“Well, red I suppose, but Basem, our security force is telling us, we must go, we have to listen to them, they are the boss “. I tell our contact.

Rene and I get back into the body armor and load the vehicle. We get moving quickly. John points out groups of people starting to gather together. “This is the kind of thing we watch for” he says. We get back to Dojo's in good time and go for lunch. It's about 13:30 when we are back. After lunch we realize….. It's hot….. we better head to the pool! What choice do we have really?!!! No protests end up taking place. This is a good thing, it means we'll be allowed out the next day.

Day 4. We return to the CVL and get working right away. Taking the same drive twice in a row, you really start to take notice of the city along this route. There are many beautiful large homes, several large buildings. Ministry building we are told. We pass a market, it’s what you’d expect, things just scattered about everywhere. Old parts salvaged from cars and trucks. A lot of places sell air conditioners. For the most part, the buildings we see are intact, not blown to bits with debris everywhere as you see on the news. But, it’s clear, the people are tired, distressed. Some people move frantically, as if their actions may help guard their life. Some people lazily swagger through the markets, as if they don’t have a worry about what might happen. This is life in Iraq for many. And for many, it’s a great city with many things to offer. The staff at the CVL seem like they are happy. They have a good job in a secure facility. There are men and women working side by side. Everyone is so friendly. One Iraqi lady takes a shine to me. She reminds me of the “large” jolly Nun in Sister Act, but a middle eastern version. At one point in the day she asks if I’m married, I think she’s trying to set me up with her daughter! I chuckle! She wants a picture of us! Rene and I work away hard and fast. Anything that can be done off site is left, such as reporting. We want to maximize our time there and we work efficiently. We split up at one point with the equipment. Are we letting our guard down? We don’t think so. The facility is safe and there are a couple GW guards for each of us. Things go well, we do more than we were assigned to do. Everyone is happy. Basem has a gift for us before we go. A traditional Iraqi scarf. “when you’re fishing you put it on your back “ he says and shows us how to hold the scarf and wear it. He folds it corner to corner and drapes it over Rene’s shoulders like a cape.

“And when it's hot you put it on your head. Very good for keeping your warm in cold Canada.” He takes the “cape” off of Rene’s shoulders and drapes it in the same way over his head. One of the younger lab workers whom I hit it off with helps put my scarf on my head in the way you’d commonly see Middle Eastern headscarves worn wrapped around men’s heads. We’re honoured. We return to Dojo’s around 14:40 and head for lunch. “I guess we better hit the pool again Rene” I say.

Day 5 we travel to Al Nahrain medical college. It's located in a mostly Sha’i area of town. While the school is well protected, sha’i areas are very dangerous to be in. We pull up to security and are denied entry. We must wait for some director to come down and let us in. “maybe 5 to 10 minutes” the local national team rep says. Paul turns to us and says “that's half an hour in Iraqi terms”. We wait. And wait. We start to get nervous. We are sitting in a three vehicle, armored convoy on the side of a busy roadway. It's a hospital as well as school so cars are pulling up and dropping people off continually. We start to get really worried, any of these cars could have a UVIED (under vehicle improvised explosive device). Sitting in one place for too long can be very dangerous. Anyone driving by, or who sees us could call someone about “VIP’s in armored cars” on the side of the road. The phone rings for the ops commander, Paul. Just at the same moment, local national team leader, who is our representative to the Iraqis comes to the door of our SUV. The escort is here. We are good to go, we can enter. Thank goodness. We find out a day later that the phone call was the operations Center telling us to get the hell out of there. They track all the vehicles with gps while we are away and they had seen that we were just sitting on the side of the road for too long. They wanted us to evacuate the area immediately. I'm glad we gained entry to the college though. We go through and test the equipment there, total failures. Nothing is working right. We tour the campus, it's beautiful. Life is present. Young adults are everywhere. Kids with stethoscopes, people in lab jackets. Baghdad is not in ruins, it's alive and thriving. At least in this location. We drive home and get lunch. At this point, we are on a roll, it's +44C, time to hit the pool :)

Day 6, if things go well, our last day of work. We travel to the holy city of Karbala. Driving on the highway seemed a bit risky. There are cars and large trucks everywhere. But we sail safely through and into the medical labs. The landscape was beautiful. Sort of a desert tundra. No areas of just sand, the way this area is portrayed on “Three Kings”. There are palm trees and small shrubs everywhere. Lots of people on the side of the road, cleaning and selling Carp. Kids, ahead of every check stop, selling water. At one point we see a small shack/ booth set up on the side of the road with raw meat carcases hanging up for sale. Just sitting there, in the heat of the sun…. We easily gain entry to the hospital. It’s a secure site but it is also a public hospital. We go in through the back entrance and park. We have to head through a very busy lab area. Women in full black and brown Burka’s everywhere. We squeeze through un-scathed. The unit we test there is damaged beyond repair. The staff has used a propane burner inside for sterilizing their inoculation loops, a big no no in a bio cabinet. They have melted the airflow probe, something critical for operation. I do everything I can, but I can‘t pass the unit or even get it working. We pack up and start to head home. We are called into the hospital director's office. Again, we don’t have too much of a choice, we must go. We are served chia, a traditional Iraqi sweet tea. They talk about touring us around Karbala, to some of the Holy sites. We’d love to see this while we were there, but our security team immediately declines on our behalf. They want us to go to another hospital to check another unit. We want to. After all, we are there to help. While we have charged a good amount for this trip, we are there to help, not make money. Our team again, declines. Maybe they are right. Would someone be there to kidnap us? Who knows. Probably not, but best be safe. My neck is killing me. 4 hours of driving wearing body armor will do that to you! On our drive home, we are quiet, looking at the sites of the roadway. Suddenly we hear a very loud BANG. I jump, Rene jumps, the vehicles swerves slightly and we look out the windshield to see whats happening. Our ex pat security lead didn’t jump, he grabbed his rifle and is ready to use it. The driver too, driving with one hand on the wheel and one hand on his rifle which still sits between the center console and his seat. We all look out the window trying to asses what’s happened… The truck driving beside us has blown a tire. The ex pat leader puts his gun down. “That’ll wake you up gents, nothing to worry about”. I’m done…. I’m tired, exhausted. In Iraq, you must always be alert. Always on. You must be watching, listening, thinking at all times, even sleeping is only half relaxing. It’s time to get out of Baghdad. This is the one and only day, I don’t hit the pool. Rene goes. But there is too much work for me to do. Either way, I am happy, we depart Baghdad tomorrow. We get the last two tickets on the plane.

Leaving Baghdad;

We have an early pick up. 06:15. Body armor, 3 cars again. Heavy security check points. We see humvees and tanks everywhere. Soldiers and sandbags, turrets outfitted with guns on tripods. Very heavily armed. Things are at a high alert level after the second breach of the IZ while we were there. At one point we have to leave the vehicles. The doors are left open, trunk and hood are opened also. Dogs come around to check for explosives. We get back in. At the next checkpoint we have to take our bags to an x ray scanner. They go through and we get back in the car. The airport is still a 10 minute drive away but they want to stop anyone dangerous from getting even close to the BIAP. It's smooth sailing after this. We chose to use the vip terminal which has really comfortable seats and breakfast. They take our luggage and put it through. They escort us to the gate and we get to bypass the lines. VIP’s!! It's nice. We board and land in Erbil again, about 60 minutes later. We have a long 5 hour layover. There one shop to sit at. After security, there is again just one cafe to sit down at. The time goes slowly. Finally we board the plane and head for Vienna. 4 hours. Once we arrive we drop our carry on luggage at the airport hotel and Rene and I head to downtown Vienna. We wander the downtown area looking at old buildings. It's wonderful. We are relaxed. We can let our guard down a bit. We have schnitzel and beers outdoors. It's so peaceful and safe in public. While we never felt unsafe in Iraq, there is certain calm about being back in normal civilization. We take the second last train of the night back and hit the hay. The next morning breakfast is incredible. Anything you could want. We board the plane for Toronto. It's a 9 hour flight. We are at the very back of the plane. I guess you can't complain when you switch flights 24 hours before it departs. I'm just happy to get getting home. Period. And two days early at that. After Toronto, 2 and a half more flight hours and i’ll be home. I can’t wait to see the kids! I can wait to hold Chantelle.

What An experience. I almost miss it already. I think I might want to go back….

David Phillips

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abstractanalogue · 7 years ago

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Slane Castle Concerts: From the Outside

If you grew up in Co. Meath, as I did, you would have been more directly aware and affected by the concerts at Slane Castle than those who travelled to it from the rest of the country. I mean this in the sense that you wouldn’t have even had to attend the concert itself to be touched by it. If you were too young to go or had no interest in seeing these bands you could still experience it in intangible ways through events or occurrences that hovered around it; perhaps in the atmosphere surrounding the day itself or in the build-up, its aftermath and in memory. This subjective experience is what I’ve written about here.

I grew up in the countryside about 3 miles from Navan and the first time the village of Slane, its castle and concerts being held there, entered my consciousness was in 1984, when I would have been 11 years old. I also got to learn about a man called Lord Henry Mountcharles who lived in the castle and put these concerts on. He had also let U2 record an album there once, wore odd socks and would be interviewed on TV from time to time. I ceased to have any real interest in the concerts about 10 years later in 1995, which as it turned out, would be the only time I would actually attend the event. A few of the concerts of that period left a strong and vivid impression on me as a young person.

Bob Dylan 1984: I might have been vaguely aware of the name Bob Dylan but that was all it was to me, I wouldn't have known what he was famous for or even his nationality. The first I heard about it was on the news, that there had been a riot in the village. This actually happened the night before the concert, when a large crowd and with only 12 Gardai on duty, had attacked the local Garda station and terrorised local people. This was my first impression of the Slane concerts, that they were dangerous and lawless events.

On the morning after the concert I remember going to church in Navan with my family and seeing an old van parked up and people outside it, who I heard it commented, "Must have been at Slane." In my child’s mind they must have been involved in the riot somehow. I think there was a dishevelled looking bearded man in a lumberjack shirt and a woman with a blanket pulled over her shoulders. Today I can see that they were just ordinary people, possibly college graduates with nothing more than a bellyful of bottled stout, who probably hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. They had just stopped off on the way home to get supplies and probably couldn’t wait to get home for a shower and a proper sleep in a warm bed. But at that moment and for a long time afterwards I was fascinated by the riot and these strange looking people. The ‘real’ world where news came from could be just down the road and not everyone was like my family and the people I knew.

About 10 years later when I was renting a house in Dublin, I learned that one of my house-mates, a teacher who was about 10 years older than me, had actually been at the concert. I immediately asked her what the riot had been like? She looked at me like she didn’t know what I was talking about. She had forgotten all about the controversy as she hadn’t witnessed it and could only remember being out in the open air and enjoying the music and craic. A serious as the riot had been it was still a very isolated incident, probably blown up to some degree by the media.

The saddest aspect of the day was that two fans had drowned while trying to swim across the Boyne to get access to the concert. I might have heard this on Radio Carousel, the local station based in Navan Shopping Centre. They would have been covering the events of the weekend in-depth all day. The Meath Chronicle too would also cover the build-up and aftermath of the concert in detail for weeks. My mother was a nurse working in the casualty department of Navan Hospital at this time and would be for the next few years as well. If she wasn’t on duty she would always be on call for the duration of the concert weekend. Most years the medical staff would be kept busy with cases of people with too much alcohol or drugs in their system, stabbings and a whole variety of incidents that could not be treated on site. This insider knowledge would also colour my picture of the event as well.

Bruce Spingsteen 1985: A year later and I was more aware of the hype surrounding the build-up to the concert and would even have known Springsteen's hit of the moment, 'Born in the USA'. I was a member of the Scouts and our Whit Weekend camp coincided with the concert. We hiked out to the campsite from the Ramparts, just on the edge of Navan and walked for a few miles along the Boyne river. Eventually we turned into a field and set up camp (I think all the tents and camping equipment had already been dropped there). We were a very short distance from Slane and the next day Bruce Spingsteen would be playing. We were all talking about this and hoping that somehow we would get to see the concert. One of my friends was obsessed with Springsteen and was going around singing the line, “Born in the USA” loudly and repeatedly.

The night before the concert there was a night hike organised. We continued walking towards Slane along the bank of the Boyne and at some stage turned into a wooded area. What happened next is still clear in my mind. In the near pitch black it was obvious there were people in the forest just off the pathway. They were obviously making a weekend of the concert and some of them were now very drunk. When they saw the light of our torches it set off a panic along the forest. We could hear people shouting that the Guards were coming and people were running off in all directions. We were just as freaked out as they were, we couldn't see them but only hear the commotion we had inadvertently caused. As we walked along we got deeper into even more panicked voices until we began to hear this one man yelling, "Juventus", over and over again in a slow football chant style. This extremely drunk individual even stumbled onto the path as we got close. At the time, while I knew he was drunk, I was still confused as to why he was repeating this word into the night. Years later when I saw the scene in Apocalypse Now when they are close to the end of the river and visit a US military base where no-one is in charge and everyone has gone a bit crazy I was reminded of how it felt this night. The Heysel Stadium disaster had happened just days before resulting in 39 dead and 600 injured. This was when Liverpool and the Italian club, Juventus, had met in Brussels at the European Cup final.

According to Wikipedia: Approximately an hour before the Juventus-Liverpool final was due to kick off, Liverpool supporters charged at Juventus fans and breached a fence that was separating them from a "neutral area". This came after a period of hostility between the two sets of fans which saw missiles thrown from both teams' supporters. The instigators of violence are still unknown, with varying accounts. Juventus fans ran back on the terraces and away from the threat into a concrete retaining wall. Fans already standing near the wall were crushed; eventually the wall collapsed. Many people climbed over to safety, but many others died or were badly injured. The game was played despite the disaster, with Juventus winning 1–0.

Our Scout leaders were pretty worried by now but we were past the worst of it and managed to get back to camp by a route that bypassed the forest. While researching this piece I realised we would have been on the other side of the Boyne from the castle, the side that people would attempt to swim from. Again, like the Bob Dylan fans I’d glimpsed, who these people in the forest were and what they were doing would continue to play on my mind as a kid.

Queen 1986: In spite of the fact that one of my best school friends would have been a big fan of the band (I do remember hearing their album of this time, A Kind of Magic, quite a lot) until writing this piece I had zero recollection that Queen had ever headlined Slane. I put this down to the traumatic effects of the Scout night hike! The above image I found also confirms to me I probably wouldn’t have enjoyed this show very much.

David Bowie 1987: This time I remember being even more aware of the hype and build up to the concert. One of my older brother’s friends was even going to it! I would not have had much of a clue about Bowie's history or music however, I would just have accepted that he was a ‘rock legend’ and remembered seeing him play at Live Aid and seeing his video with Mick Jagger for 'Dancing in the Street’. By now I was 14 and a Jesus and Mary Chain fan and starting to become more aware of the alternative acts of the day and bands like the Sex Pistols. Interestingly, I would have been aware that JAMC had actually caused a riot at a gig once. The night before the concert RTE2 showed one of Bowie’s concert films from the 1970s I think and I watched some of it but had to turn it off it was so bad in my opinion. A year or so later I would hear his Ziggy Stardust album at school and really liked it and would gradually become a fan. According to reviews of the time, his Slane show was generally considered poor, with BP Fallon even going so far as saying it was, ”one of the worst David Bowie gigs I ever saw.”

What sticks in my mind the most from this year is hearing that another fan drowned whilst trying to swim across the Boyne. I remember naively thinking when I heard this, how could the show even go ahead and how would Bowie be able to live with the fact that he was responsible for the death of one of his fans.

Guns N’ Roses 1992: Perhaps due to the drownings and growing complaints of local residents there would be a 5 year gap before the next concert would take place. It strikes me that there was a lost generation of people, including myself, who would have come of age at this time and would have enjoyed going to the concert. Guns N’ Roses would be the latest headliners and I was now 19 and working in Dublin. The following month I would see Nirvana in The Point so that type of music and local Dublin bands in very small to medium sized venues was more my scene at the time. I happened to be home for that weekend and I think it only started to occur to me about going to it the day it was on. I had no ticket and as far as I knew it was sold out. However, I was curious enough about the spectacle surrounding the concert to go for a cycle into Navan and it was a beautiful summer's day. If you were travelling to Slane from the south or west you would have had to travel through Navan to cross the Boyne and go up Flowerhill. This was where I went first and the traffic was busy with concert goers and slowly moving. I easily sped across the bridge and cycled alongside a van with the side-door open and chatted to some mildly drunken lads who were lying and crouching inside. They were on their way to the concert and I’m pretty sure they offered me a lift to the gig. I probably should have taken it but this brief exchange gave me the idea to cycle out to Slane for a closer look. This was only another 10 miles or so and the day was young.

As I got close to the village I knew there would be checkpoints to stop ticket-less fans like me. I think I turned left close to the town and ended up where people had parked cars at the sides of the road and were camping in fields. No-one had stopped me so far but I thought this was the time to get a bit sneaky so I pushed the bike up a hill along a farmers track and hid it in the hedgerow. I must have had a good idea where I would come out as I walked down this field, climbed through a hedge and came out right on the road opposite the main entrance. I boldly crossed the last fence and walked into the crowds. I remember it was all surprisingly peaceful (not a riot in sight!) even though there were swarms of people walking into the site. There was a tout selling tickets and more out of curiosity I asked him how much they were. I can't remember what he initially offered it to me for, perhaps face value, but as I still had no intention of actually going into the concert I told him no. He must have thought I was still interested and eventually he offered it to me for a fiver. I guess they really had been stopping ticket-less fans from getting this far as he had no takers. After awhile I felt I had seen enough and went back through the field by the same route to retrieve my bike and began the long journey home.

Years later when I met my wife I found out that she was actually at this concert! She hadn't been a fan either but had gone with a group of college friends the day after the Trinity Ball. I like to think that might be why I felt that strange draw to go to the concert that day.

Neil Young 1993: This was another lineup I had pretty much no interest in seeing or recollection of. Even though I would be a fan of Neil Young today I don't feel like I missed anything.

REM/Oasis 1995: I was 22 now and in a band of my own by now called Buckle. My band-mates, Fran and Glenn, were big fans of REM and were going. I wasn’t that into it but thought it would be good to finally have the full Slane concert experience and we could all stay at my parents house that weekend.

It’s a long story but I had seen REM before in Dublin’s RDS in 1989, this had actually been my first ever gig at 16. From that moment on I became a big fan and later that summer I bought all of their albums on cassette so I could play them on my Walkman, with the money from my first job while staying with my aunt and uncle in England. When I got back I started doing a fanzine about music. The first issue was called, Interzone, which I changed for the next issue to Murmur. This had been in tribute to REM's first album and the zine would gradually become focused solely on REM. I created a new one called Superfuzz to cover the other music I liked. I only did these zines for two years and had stopped by the time I moved to Dublin in 1992.

By 1995 I had very little interest left in REM to be honest, I had read so much about and listened to their music so often I’d pretty much worn out my enthusiasm. I can listen to them in moderation again now however. There were just so many more younger and much more interesting sounding bands and electronic musicians around at the time. Their music by now had become kind of bland as they achieved mass success, although the Monster album they were promoting at this time was when their popularity started to seriously dip. Perhaps we had all heard ‘Everybody Hurts too many times.

In the end about five of us stayed at my parents and we all squeezed into my mother’s Toyota Starlet (I was still only a learner driver) and headed for Slane. It was yet another glorious summer’s day. Being in such a vast crowd was kind of what I expected it to be. It certainly was a beautiful setting and the hill rolling down to the river did form a perfect natural amphitheatre. We were there from the first act so we knew we had to pace ourselves so we relaxed to watch the opening acts from afar.

I think at some stage I went off exploring the site and we gradually all got split up during the day but I got pretty close to the front for Oasis and REM. One of the reasons I wasn’t keen on large open air concerts was that the stage could potentially be so far away, I was determined therefore to get as close to the action as possible. Even though I wasn’t a massive fan, Oasis actually stole the show for me. On a friend’s recommendation I had already caught their debut Irish gig at the Tivoli Theatre in Dublin the year before and had been blown away by the energy and attitude coming off the stage. I’m quite sure REM played a great set as well but all I can remember now is when they dedicated ‘Let Me In’ to Kurt Cobain (who had died the year before). This struck a deep emotional chord with the crowd and I looked back during the song and the audience had spontaneously started to throw a cloud of paper cups, plastic bottles, whatever high into the air, it was quite a sight to see.

At the end of Oasis’ set I asked security to pull me out from the front row, there was a constant flow of people leaving this way. I might have thought it was a quicker way out than fighting my way backwards through the crowd and by now I was feeling a bit dehydrated anyway. They lifted me out and I was next escorted to the St. John’s Ambulance tent where I was offered some water and asked to rest. This was very kind and I chatted to them and they told me that so far there had been no serious incidents for them to deal with. I got a quick look at the deserted backstage area before I went back into the main arena. The VIP area was higher up at the castle itself.

I was determined we wouldn’t get caught up in the legendary traffic jams leaving the site so at the end of the show we all somehow managed to meet up as agreed behind the sound-desk (like everybody else) and with my local knowledge I got us quickly home by the back-roads. Shockingly another two people did actually drown trying to swim across the river that year. To be fair each year the organisers had boats patrolling but obviously this measure still couldn’t save everyone. Even if you did make it across it was highly unlikely you would not be spotted in this secured area and thrown out of the site.

This is a good link with an overview of all of the concerts held to date at Slane. Slane Castle and Lord Henry Mountcharles very much put rock culture on the map in Ireland in providing a suitable venue to attract the huge touring bands of the time. These concerts loomed large in the minds of young people and attending was a rite of passage for them and still is. Not surprisingly there were dangers involved no matter how much the organisers tried to remove or contain them. These hazards, like the excitement surrounding the event (the spirit of rock’n’roll), as I’ve tried to show, stretched way outside of the live arena and could never be contained. The music, hype and chatter around the event simply became every-bodies soundtrack for the day.

Stephen Rennicks

#slane castle #concert #bob dylan #david bowie #queen #guns n roses #neil young #bruce spingsteen #rem #oasis #riot #spirit of rock'n'roll

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apuppyforpresident · 6 years ago

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“write about a character after a New Years party”

Dan didn't like New Years parties all that much, but the fear of missing out compelled him to go nonetheless. There was just so much drinking involved in the holiday season, it was exhausting - from the idiotic twelve pubs tradition to the lame office parties, Dan had had just about enough. But clearly not enough that it would stop him from going and trying to have a good time - besides, he had a Tinder date lined up, but while she looked a 10 online, her personality said 4. But then who went on Tinder looking for personality? Dan, apparently.

Dan just wanted something real, someone to keep him going for more than one night, someone to talk to and someone to love. But, sure, what was he hoping for at a New Years party in a club? You didn't meet decent people at clubs, everyone knew that. New Years parties in themselves were boring as fuck - sure everyone was hyped and excited before twelve, but once midnight arrived, and the couples kissed and the shots were downed, the novelty wore off within about three minutes.

Dan realised pretty quickly that the previous few New Years parties had all followed the same format, and he was tired of it. His date was pretty wasted already, but she was a waste of space anyway, and Dan was a bit tipsy himself - he left her at the bar after giving some excuse about feeling sick.

And it was this way that Dan found himself kicking a stone down the busy street, crowded with revellers; a taxi here, waiting patiently for the late-night animals; a drunk girl there, holding her heels in her hands and being supported by her friends. He kicked the stone further. He was sick of all the noise, all the clutter, all the drama and buzz of nights out - the pre-drinking, the infuriating drunkards, the shenanigans of fearless men in their 20's with liquid courage. He kicked the stone further. Every night out felt like a broken record to Dan. He kicked the stone further.

"What's your problem?"

Dan stopped abruptly: it took a moment for him to register the colourful rainbow lights outside the city's only gay bar, the fluttering by his ear as the pride flag hanging by the door. It took even longer for him, in his inebriated state, to notice he'd just kicked the pebble into the leg of a patron vaping outside the club doors.

"Sorry," he hastily said, sobering up, "accident."

The stranger - another man in his 20's, with pink streaks in his floppy hair and a deep black leather jacket - kicked the pebble back at Dan.

"You'd want to be careful," he said, "sure that could be seen as homophobic."

Dan laughed awkwardly. "Just an accident, mate - I'm not homophobic, I swear."

"Ally?"

"Bisexual."

"Ah." The stranger took another puff from his e-cigarette, the smoke rising slowly in the cold air, mixing with his breath. "I'm gay through and through. About as straight as the Mississippi."

Dan cast his mind far back to geography class, his brows furrowed - the stranger drew a squiggly line in the air, a meandering imprint on Dan's eyes. He nodded slowly.

"I wouldn't have said bi from lookin' at you," the other man said. Dan cocked his head. "I'd have said... pan. Maybe."

"Well I definitely would've said gay from looking at you," Dan replied. "It's the pink hair. That's super gay."

The stranger laughed, a full, loud one like a bark. It made Dan chuckle.

"What do they call you?"

"Dan."

"Dan? Chris." Chris extended his hand. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"I... bid you adieu," Dan replied, trying to sound formal, but then he realised what "bid adieu" meant. "I mean... not goodbye, I mean... hi."

Chris laughed again, a bit too hard for the lameness of the joke. "So how do you earn your daily bread, Dan?"

"I'm in training to be a Garda - yourself?"

"I own this place," Chris said, pointing his e-cig at the bar behind them. "A Garda, huh? What compelled you to pick that particular profession?"

"Oh, you know, the uniform," Dan joked, and Chris grinned. "For real - since I was young, I always wanted to be one. My dad was one. Hope that doesn't make me a sheep."

"Not at all." Chris cocked his head in the direction of his bar. "Sure wasn't my own father a landlord himself? - admittedly, he didn't own a gay bar."

Dan nodded slowly, feeling that the conversation was reaching its untimely death. He asked, "What kind of bar was it, so?"

"You're not really interested - it was a small-town pub and hotel."

"Well that's boring." Dan scrunched up his face in mock-disapproval, and Chris chuckled.

A pause, a beat. In the background a drunk couple were getting a bit too close. Both men saw it, and Chris pretended to gag.

"Straights - gross," he remarked, glancing at his watch. "It's nearly time-"

"What flavour is that?" Dan asked, pointing to the e-cig Christ held between delicate, long fingers.

"Oh - uh - mulled wine. Festive," Chris replied. He hesitated, eyes glancing from his watch to Dan. "Do you want to try it?"

Dan didn't smoke - someone had offered him a cigarette was a teenager and it had nearly made him sick, so he averted anything that involved inhaling fumes - but he didn't want to look a fool in front of Chris. He took the e-cig carefully, nodded absentmindedly as Chris told him how to use it, and then, slowly, took a careful puff.

He felt the vapour tickle the back of his throat, inhaled as deep as he could - it was just like smelling mulled wine, except for the crackling sound from the device. It was much, much better than tobacco.

He handed it back, nodding - "That's nice. Very... aromatic. Festive."

Chris took another puff and then pocketed the e-cig. He looked at his watch again and said, "Fifteen minutes to midnight - I have to go back in and prep for the countdown."

Dan's face fell - was it really time? Could he not just have another few minutes with this mysterious, fabulous stranger?

"Come on in - drinks are on the house," Chris added.

"You sure?"

"Absolutely! - sure, I need to round off 2018 with one good deed, at least."

Chris reached out, grabbing Dan's hand and pulling him into the doors of the bar. The next fifteen minutes were a blur - colour, alcohol, excitement, music thump-thump-thumping in his ears and through the floor and through his chest, like a knife. Chris poured Dan a beer and then left him at the bar, saying he'd be back for the countdown. Dan drank the beer quickly, not knowing what to do with his hands, his eyes - he watched the dancers, the couples, the gaggles of flamboyant friends, living for the moment. He wished he could join them, be spontaneous like them. He kept drinking.

Ten minutes later and the music quietened, the lights brightened, and all attention was drawn to one wall, where there was projected a 60-second countdown. And there stood Chris - changed from his dark shirt to a bright pink one with the name of the bar and "2019" printed in bright, red letters.

He whetted the audience's appetite, thanking them for spending the night with his bar, promising one free drink to everyone, and briefly alluding to previous New Years parties, earning laughter from the drunker patrons.

He added, in a more sombre note, "Unfortunately, as you all know, this is the last and final New Years party we'll have the pleasure of hosting here - but let that not take away from the memories we've made, the friendships and relationships that have been born within these walls-

"Get on with it!" a bartender hollered, and Chris laughed out loud.

"Now, let the countdown begin - ten... nine... eight..."

The patrons shouted out the numbers, getting louder and louder as they got closer to midnight - Dan shouted at the top of his voice - suddenly, the room erupted in pounding music, glasses clinking and clapping, another New Year done and dusted. The bartender poured him and Dan two shots; they clinked their glasses and toasted the celebration.

"Is this place shutting down?" Dan shouted into the bartender's ear, leaning over the bar.

"Another two months-" the bartender indicated with his fingers "-not making enough money."

Chris appeared next to the bartender, started immediately pouring drinks for patrons who wanted to claim a free one. So everyone was getting free drinks, not just Dan, apparently. He smiled at Dan, a slow smile that wasn't sincere, and quickly looked away.

Dan cast his eyes to the room, drinking in the atmosphere like he had that shot - unlike any other club after midnight, this one was still buzzing, and it looked like it would be until the early hours. He didn't know what to do with himself, since he only knew Chris and Chris was busy - so he ordered another beer and took a few films for his Snapchat story, killing time.

At around half twelve, a hand yanked his phone out of his hand and Chris stood in its place, very close to Dan. He replaced Dan's phone to his front pocket and took the empty glass too, placing it atop the bar.

"Can't have you all alone on New Years," Chris shouted in Dan's ear, his breath fanning Dan's skin and making his hair stand up. "Dance with me."

Chris was a finer dancer by far than Dan - he put his entire personality, all of his energy into the cleanest, slickest moves Dan had seen in a long time. His body flowed like a river, making Dan suddenly self-conscious about his own awkward stumbling and clapping. Chris didn't judge him, though - he encouraged Dan, even trying to teach him one or two easier moves, which Dan would be sure to forget in the morning. Their bodies were so close, their hands brushing once or twice, the air felt electric - Chris's eyes were not shying away from looking Dan up and down.

After a few songs, and even with the energy lent to him by alcohol, Dan felt his fatigue catch up with him, and he pulled Chris off the dance floor to the bar.

"I have to go," he shouted, "early start tomorrow!"

"Thanks for stopping by," Chris shouted back. "See you here again, yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Alright, then." Chris's dark eyes lingered, as if waiting for something from Dan, waiting for a sign, a signal, a move. He put his hand on Dan's elbow, gently squeezed, and Dan felt it through his whole body, like the bass. "Good luck!"

And he turned, swiftly, not giving Dan time to respond, to ask for his number or even say goodbye.

Dan picked up a beer mat as a memento and left too, shivering violently as soon as the cold, cold New Years air hit him. It was a relief from the sweaty atmosphere inside, but enveloped him uncaringly, and he immediately wanted to go back inside.

He walked on, the freezing wind making his shirt flap behind him, hands buried deep in his pockets. His thumb traced the edge of the beer mat, his thoughts still firmly on Chris and that enigmatic smile, that hypnotic dance. Was it madness to think there was something there? Sure, Chris was attractive, and maybe that's all it was - but the way he'd touched his elbow, the pleading look in his eyes told Dan it wasn't one-sided. Chris even gave him free drinks - but everyone else got the same. Even so... Dan was sick of waiting for the other person to make a move, sick of not being spontaneous and depending on the wants and intents of others. He played a role in his life too, surely?

He stopped by a streetlamp, fumbled around his pockets for a pen, and hastily scribbled his name and number on the beer mat - then he dashed back to the club, flashed his ID at the bouncer, and scouted the dance floor for Chris. He'd recognise that dance from a mile off, so where was he? Panic arose in him - what if it was a misunderstanding, what if Chris was just a flirt by nature and that's how he was with everyone? - Dan had known his fair share of gay men like that.

It took him a minute to remember that Chris wouldn't be on the dance floor since he owned the place - so he pushed his way through the revellers to the bar, finding Chris elegantly making a cocktail for a waiting patron. Dan watched, admiring the care Chris put in to making drinks, the delicacy with which he handled the ingredients.

Chris slid the glass over the bar to the customer, put the cash in the till, and turned to the next customer - Dan. At first Chris looked surprised, jumped a bit, and then a wide smile broke out, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"Forget something, stranger?" he asked, straining to be heard over the music.

"To give you this," Dan shouted, and handed Chris the beer mat. Chris laughed, pocketing it quickly.

"Call me," Dan mouthed, putting his hand to his ear as if it was a phone.

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