#i had to walk in the drizzle to the grocery store

[music-for-them-asses]

Oh yeah, I tried to go to the store last night and my car was deader than a doornail. I have to get labwork done (I've been putting it off) tomorrow, and I have to take an Uber there and back because my friends won't be able to jump my car until later that evening. 😩

[incorrectbatfam]

There was Margie, and then there was the batfam, what about the rogues with Steph time in retail?

Part 1 with Margie

Part 2 with the batfam

———————

[at the grocery store]

Riddler: Riddle me this: you eat me before I'm born and after I'm dead. What am I?

Steph: Eggs are aisle 3, chickens are aisle 4.

———————

[at the coffee shop]

Ivy: Is the oat milk locally sourced?

Steph: Yes, I don't recommend it.

———————

[at the clothing store]

Scarecrow: *walks in*

Steph: Sorry sir, this isn't a Spirit Halloween yet.

———————

[at the drive-thru]

Steph: Welcome to Batburgers, what can I get you?

Harley: Hiya! Can I do a double cheese batburger deluxe with no onions and extra pickles, and I'll have a side of nacho chili cheese fries with a drizzle of barbecue sauce. I'll also take two Bat-Hound Doggy Bags—one with Robin nuggets, honey mustard, milk, and apples with caramel, and the other with the steak Talon tacos minus the sour cream and with the salsa separate, fruit punch, and the Hush Puppies.

Steph: Anything else?

Harley: Yeah, I'll do the Create Your Own milkshake with vanilla bean, chocolate, strawberry, cookies 'n cream, cherry, black cherry, cotton candy, funfetti with double the fetti, mint chip, salted caramel, peanut butter crunch, brownie bites, extra whipped cream, and gummy bears on top.

Steph: Alright, that'll be $20.37. Please pull up to the next window.

Harley: Before I pay, could you read that back to me?

———————

[at the furniture store]

Steph: Let me guess, you need new cushions.

Clayface, while dripping clay: *nods sadly*

———————

[at the restaurant]

Joker: Give me a good laugh. A hearty chuckle. Serve me up nice, warm smile.

Steph:

———————

[at the call center]

Steph: Wayne Enterprises account support, how can I help you?

Black Mask: *starts threatening every member of the Wayne family*

Steph: Mhm. I understand. Please hold.

Steph: *puts him on hold*

Steph: *clocks out*

Steph: *goes home*

———————

[at home]

Steph: You won't BELIEVE the week I had.

Tim: Remind me again why you work seven jobs simultaneously?

[raychleadele]

Lately I’ve been really craving greens. Just absolutely slamming salads, putting them in wraps, on my morning egg toast, wilted into my pasta. Mixed greens everywhere. Spinach and arugula my beloveds. Also tried watercress for the first time and found that delightful. Loving my leafy greens. Figured there must be something in them, a vitamin or other nutrient, that my body really needs, because I’ve been going through them like crazy.

Relatedly, I recently paid an in person visit to the grocery store. I usually order for pickup to save on time, but this day I wasn’t able to for some reason. I was buying canned clams to make my late grandpa’s clam chowder. It’s a traditional Christmas/New Year’s season meal for me, I had to have it.

And when I picked up my can of clams, I became entranced by how many different canned fishes there were on the shelves. Sometimes I buy tuna, but I’d never touched most of them. And I know I was shopping hungry and when you shop hungry everything sounds good, but on that day the canned fish sounded really good. I thought “Idk, maybe I could be the kind of person who likes canned sardines.”

Then I snapped out of it and realized how hungry I was, and thought how insane it is for me to crave unfamiliar canned fish when I hardly eat the familiar variety I do buy, and reassured myself I’d get a meal when I got home, and I walked away without ransacking the shelf of canned fish.

But then I did it again at the fish counter at the Asian market a week later. I stood there for a full ten minutes, studying the dozens of whole fish they had that I’d never tried before, thinking maybe this would be the day I’d finally try filleting a fish for the first time, before deciding there weren’t any in my price range that looked fresh enough (I am in the only triple landlocked state of course), and walking away with no fish.

Then I saw that post here about someone who slammed three cans of fish and then learned they have lots of nutrients that help with seasonal depression. And I remembered how I’ve been slamming so many salads. And I thought huh, maybe my body is trying to tell me something about fish.

Then one of my favorite food YouTubers uploaded a video all about how people eat canned fish around the world and I said OKAY! CLEARLY I NEED TO BUY THE FISH!

So when I ordered groceries yesterday to prepare for the coming blizzard, I ordered canned fish. Specifically, I got one can of sardines, one can of anchovies, and one can of smoked oysters.

Today I cracked open the can of sardines for lunch. I taste tested a small piece and it was delicious! So I toasted an English muffin, spread it with some cream cheese, topped it with some thin sliced red onion and my beloved mixed greens, and added some sardines on top. Drizzled the top with some of the sardine oil and had an open faced sandwich. It was messy, because the minute I tried to bite into it all my toppings fell off, but it was delicious.

So anyway, I guess I am the kind of person who enjoys canned sardines now.

[nancypullen]

Bonjour!

This won't be a long post, just a note to let you know that we are alive and well. We are well in every sense of the word - well rested, well fed, and well acquainted with beautiful Strasbourg, France now.

Our flights over were great. On time and uneventful, that's all we ever want. We arrived in Paris and got through passport control quickly and then claimed our bags. It wasn't hard to find the train station at the airport so all we had to do was wait for our 3o'clock train to Strasbourg. We got a coffee, relaxed, and waited for the boarding platform number for our train to pop up.

Once aboard the train it was a pleasant hour and 45 minutes through gorgeous countryside before arriving at our destination. With just a 4 minute walk from the station to our little apartment the whole day was a breeze. It was all so easy that it made me suspicious. Because we'd traveled overnight and hadn't arrived in Strasbourg until dinner time, we knew that the 8th was basically a lost day as far as sightseeing. No biggie. We sought out a local grocery store (even French groceries are prettier than ours) and grabbed a few essentials. This is pretty much all we saw yesterday. The grocery store was over that bridge.

After that jaunt we unpacked a bit and decided to put our feet up. Mickey tried to find a BBC station on the television without any luck, so we can't understand a word of anything on tv. Any news we're getting is on our phones. Although we're on a wonderful vacation, we're worried about loved ones in the path of Milton. Fast forward to the 9th and after a good night's sleep (we were dead) we explored Strasbourg. What a lovely city!

Every street and around every corner it just got prettier.

There are lots of Christmas shops here, and they're SO pretty! I know that Strasbourg has a big Christmas market, but it was a nice surprise to see so many windows full of (as this one says) the magic of Christmas.

Mickey preferred windows like this.

We stopped for lunch at a wonderful spot, very charming inside and out and had a local dish called tarte flambe. Ours was topped with goat cheese, shallots, bacon, and a honey drizzle. It was DELICIOUS. The crust was paper thin and slightly charred on the bottom, the flavors were increddible.

Mickey also tried the creme brulee, and said it was the best he's ever had. I mean, the French did invent it. We strolled over to see the Notre Dame de Strasbourg and you walk right down a street lined with shops and cafes to its front door.

Of course, it takes up over two city blocks and it's got gargoyles and history galore.

I'm not that big on cathedrals, but I am always in awe of the architecture and the abilities of those who started building this in 1015 (!!!). It was completed in its present size/form by 1439. It was the tallest building in the world from 1647 to 1874.and is still the 6th tallest church in the world (the highest still standing extant structure built entirely in the Middle Ages). It was described by Victor Hugo (The Hunchback of Notre Dame fame) as a “gigantic and delicate marvel”, and it certainly is. To think that something that huge and extravagant was built without a single power tool or crane is amazing. I'll stop there, otherwise I'll comment on how the church's money could have been spent on the many, many poor people instead of cathedrals dripping in gold. Ugh.

Besides, I'd rather just roam the streets and see the every day life of Strasbourg. It certainly didn't disappoint.

I'll leave you with my very favorite thing about France. In 2009 when we visited Lille, in 2015 (was that the year? I can't remember.) when we stayed in beautiful Paris - it's always the same for me, the fresh flowers on every corner! Affordable bouquets to take away for your dinner table or bedroom window. I assume that every house in France is filled with fresh flowers. If you're a French woman your lover has absolutely no excuse for ever showing up without flowers.

Tomorrow we'll pick up a rental car at the train station and drive to Riquewihr and probably wander the countryside between here and there. I'm excited. Riquewihr is so lovely that it has launched fairytales. I may burst into song while we stroll. Mickey would love that.

Until tomorrow, stay safe, stay well. Au revoir! XOXO, Nancy

[robbyrobinson]

Vicksburg

Chapter 1 

The town was abuzz with the whirring of cars and the ceaseless hustling and bustling of busy bodies so obsessed with their routines, they would unknowingly let life pass them by and miss out on the simple things. Several people chatted loudly as they crossed the streets on their way to work. Suffocating, black smoke from many a car’s exhaust pipe permeated the air and polluted the sky with clouds of smog. Rats scavenged for food and left trails of wet, goopy trash along the walking paths. The unsanitary conditions would lead to the spread of several pestilences leading to the town’s hospitals becoming clogged. A clap of thunder eviscerated the sound barrier accompanied by the steady drizzle of rain.  

I watched the town fade from view as I rode the public bus. As any who was familiar with this form of transportation could attest to, the bus was congested to the brim with several passengers all with varying characteristics and hygiene. Due to the tight, cramped build in the bus’s structure, many passengers were sandwiched together, some packed together like a can of sardines. And they certainly smelled like it too.  

Greasy, slimy sweat rolled down the forehead of a large, burly guy I was forced to sit by. He had sweated so much, his white, buttoned shirt was see-through. His foul, decaying stench wrinkled my nostrils with the urge to gag becoming harder to suppress. His whiskers were wild and unkempt. His eyes so wide, they could have burst from his sockets. When he stared at me, the best I could do was offer a lighthearted smile.  

“Well, good afternoon to you, sir.”  

He stared at me for a minute not saying anything. His discolored eyes peered in opposite directions as if he was staring into infinity. After nothing of note happened between us, I tried to focus on my trip. I held the handle of my briefcase with some hesitation. The town soon became a dot in my eye before sinking into the inky abyss. This was it. It was really it.  

I turned my attention back to the ride. To think this was the last time I would be seeing this town. Sure, it had one school, a single grocery store, and station, but it had its charms such as its park on the western side of the town. I gazed at the man beside me again, but he was still in his own little world. I tapped the handle a few times as I watched the passengers start to settle down into their seats. Those that could not depend on their handgrips. They stood there shaking slightly any time the bus made a stop.  

Even then, it felt like the bus was not even close to thinning out instead becoming more inflated by the minute. Every now and then, I looked up to see passengers trickling out. I did not know how they could handle being nearly suffocated by the claustrophobic crowds. It reminded me of the droves of people at auditoriums watching ball games. The air became hotter from the body heat and warm breath radiating from the travelers. 

 During the third stop, the heavyset gentleman finally left his seat and walked away without as much as saying goodbye. Not that I was intending on saying goodbye anyway, but it would have been thoughtful. A trace of the fat man’s putrid stench lingered in the air. I sighed to myself and plopped the briefcase on the seat. My fingers strummed the side as a twinge of doubt arose within me. It will be a couple hours until I reach my destination. Three hours give or take. The town did not have the best reputation, but my company insisted that I move there.  

“Pardon me, my good sir, would you mind if I sat there?”  

I shook my head clean of the thoughts and looked up. There stood a well-dressed man wearing beige slacks and an overcoat. He wore a matching top hat on his head and boasted a thin, brown mustache that twirled at the ends. He withdrew his hat and tipped it to me in a friendly gesture.  

“Oh, uh, sure. Be my guest.”  

 The gent elegantly found purchase on the seat and watched me fiddle around with my luggage. After what seemed like an eternity of him staring me down, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a business card. “My name is Jacques Skinner. Private Investigator.”  

He placed the card in my hand, and I flicked it around in my hand to analyze it. “Seems legit. What are you trying to solve?”  

Jacques smiled at me, revealing a small space between his two front teeth. “Ever heard of a man named Walter Bean?”  

Walter Bean. The name sounded familiar. I rummaged through my mind for a few seconds. “He was the owner of a furniture company, right?”  

“Aye. 68-year-old Walter Bean, a CEO and a family man, was the owner of a huge corporation. He was last seen two weeks ago. He apparently was looking to expand his business in the town of Vicksburg. But... well, after he made the business trip, he never came back. Which is where I come in.”  

My eyes widened. “Vicksburg? That is where I am going as a matter of fact.”  

Jacques’s eyebrow arched his interest peaked. “Really? That is quite the coincidence.”  

He withdrew a picture of Walter Bean. He was a slightly portly figure with a balding head and spindly mustache. Walter wore a red, 3XL cotton shirt and khaki pants. He had a half-grin on his face as he stood in front of his office. Jacques rubbed his chin and probed me further.  

“Why are you going to Vicksburg if you don’t mind me asking.”  

“Business trip,” I explained, “they said it was nonnegotiable.”  

“Perhaps. But I am certain you have heard of the story behind the town and why it is held with such disdain?”  

I shook my head. “I know that the town is worn down and practically a ghost town, but I am not afraid of any ghost stories.”  

He laughed. “Okay then. Legend goes that during the 1770s, the town of Vicksburg was once a prosperous place with friendly faces everywhere. People openly shared with each other, and no one was left without. A real utopia, I guess is the term.”  

I quietly listened to the private investigator as he further lectured me on the town’s folklore.  

“That was until there was a certain woman who grew up with nothing before marrying into a noble family. She was beloved by her husband, but she had one fear that is universal to everyone regardless of their status: the fear of death. So, she conducted research into the dark practices meeting an undead cultist who indoctrinated her into the worship of the gods of old. She summoned a demon from the bowels of the Earth to grant her the gift of eternal beauty and life. The demon fulfilled that wish, but it required sacrifices from the living.”  

“Sacrifices? Gods of old?” I stammered.  

“Are you telling the story, good man?” Jacques asked me somewhat annoyed but still smiling. 

“Sorry. Just got entrenched in the story. Do go on.”  

“One by one, the woman led her family into the Mouth of Hell starting with the servants and then her loving husband and their four kids. From there, more and more of the townspeople disappeared in thin air and in their place... well, let’s just say that demons are the residents now.” He chuckled to himself and returned the photo of Walter to his pocket. “Or that’s what I have heard.”  

My mind was awash with a surge of thoughts. “My... that is quite the story. And you are saying that Walter went to Vicksburg?”  

“Him and three more gentlemen as well. Either it was because they wanted to expand their businesses, or they were selected almost at random. The previous three had vanished for a few months now. It’s peculiar that they would all leave without telling their families that they should not expect them back anytime soon.”  

We talked a bit more about the missing cases. Much like Walter, some of the men missing were the heads of different corporations ranging from furniture to oil. They were all gradually lured to Vicksburg through whatever means and were never heard from again. Eventually, the bus made a stop and the private investigator got off. He waved goodbye to me tipping his hat once more. “Do keep me updated if you find anything peculiar in Vicksburg.”  

My eyes were glued on the man as he left the bus and continued his way without looking back. After he left the premises, the bus resumed its designation. 

Chapter 2 

The tires on the bus screeched to a halt signifying that it was my time to get off. I collected my things and exited the vehicle. The nauseous fumes spewing from the exhaust pipe wafted in my face and nearly knocked the air from my lungs as it sped off leaving me alone. One look around at Vicksburg and I could see why its reputation was not the best.  

The town was an ancient relic of the past: dozens of houses were dilapidated with speckles of paint chipping away and flaking off like dandruff. The walls had caved in overtime to where the roofs were barely hanging on by a thread. I passed by buildings that were scorched down to the wood and abandoned to the wrath of Mother Nature. Moss grew along the sides of brick walls and rats ran rampant through the streets. The cold, crisp air smacked me on the nape of my neck sending a shiver up my spine. The grass in the city was totally dead and blackened. Any scarce shrubs and trees there were, they were winding and fatally emaciated.  

I had arrived at Vicksburg at around 4 in the morning, so my best initiative was to find a place to stay. I walked down an isolated road with the slightest sense I was being watched from afar and anytime I tried looking in the opposite direction, they would scuttle off. It was hard to believe that anyone would live here, let alone that Walter and the other gentlemen would be compelled to come. Columns held buildings up but the slightest poke would make them crumble. Mud and other debris were flung on the windows obscuring me from peering inside. Almost as if they wanted it that way. The state of disrepair also extended to the roads and walking paths with spindly cracks scattered throughout. 

I traveled down the square of the town seeing several small businesses denoting some of the products you could expect to purchase like canned goods or bread. The light posts were faintly lit reminding me of twilight with the sun’s rays partially illuminating the atmosphere, a “perfect” combination wherein it was neither too dark nor completely lit.  

In the middle of the square was a large fountain with the sculpture of a scantily clad woman calling to mind those Roman statues. Despite being made from stone, her long locks of hair flowed in the wind. Murky, tarry water poured down from a pot she was holding. Upon a closer look, tiny hints of algae coated the rocky surface adding to its prehistoric state. 

After taking in the whole picture of the fountain’s condition, my attention became directed towards the hotel. As with the other structures, the hotel had seen better days having long since fallen into a decrepit state of disarray. Its name rubbed off the sign to where I could vaguely make out a few letters. The paint peeled away from the foundation giving it a hideous, ghastly appearance. Newspapers padded the windows and nasty smoke drifted from the chimney. There were a few areas where the bricks were punched out and smashed on the ground below. 

With nowhere else to turn to, I entered the establishment. The scent of decay slammed into my face like a sledgehammer to the head. So much dust accumulated on the furniture and doors, it shot up in the air. The musky debris made my nose recoil in disgust. Coughing, I scanned the surroundings. Two chairs with bare backs lined a shaggy rug that became green from the moss residing on it. 

Photos decked the walls some dating back to the 1800s and eroded over time due to the improper maintenance. I approached the service desk spotting a book on the desk. Heavy layers of dust coated the surface. I looked past the desk noticing copious amounts of cobwebs dangling from the bookshelves and ceiling. A small bell laid beside the journal. Weighing my options again, I tentatively pressed the knob. 

Ring, ring, ring. 

Hm. Nothing. I tapped my fingers on my briefcase and waited a few seconds. I rang the bell again after 10 seconds passed. Still no one stirred from the faint sound. I stared at my wristwatch seeing that it was almost 5. Perhaps if I was more assertive, I could somehow convince a citizen of this town to offer me a place to stay. As I turned to leave, I finally heard a commotion.  

“Good morning, sir.”  

I turned to the desk again my eyes beholding a peculiar man. Strange... I did not hear him walk behind the service desk and, judging by how sudden his appearance was, he practically manifested or, could he have been hiding on the floor the whole time?  

I internally understood people’s apprehension for the physical features of a Vicksburg citizen: the gentleman was pale, deathly so. His skin lacked any ounce of pigmentation, looking more like a reanimated corpse. Not one speck of hair was on his slick body with his cranium briefly illuminated under the faint light. His eyes, however, were the most jarring attribute: they were as black as a starless sky, darker than the pitch-black void. I was uncertain if it was a result of his pupils expanding to collect more light, or if his irises were naturally black. He seemed to notice my repulsion of his peepers, so he... tried offering me a smile.  

Except it was the furthest thing from a smile more a poor man’s replication of one. He possessed a row of sharp, jagged teeth that, when parted, only revealed a jet of inky nothingness at the back of his throat. He spoke in a low, guttural voice somehow sounding distant and yet, still close. He arched his head to the side, analyzing the subtlest of my movements. “Welcome to our town, sir.”  

There was nothing more that I wanted than to end the conversation and get the hell out of dodge, but where would I go? I tried to muster up as much politeness as I could. “I would like a room.”  

The enigmatic man’s eyes widened more. I felt that he was staring into the recesses of my soul and got his jollies from frightening me. “Very good, sir.” His long, skeletal fingers groped the journal.  

“How much is a room for the night?” I asked/  

“Oh, no need for payment!” he chuckled. Purple goo glistened on his yellow-stained teeth and landed on the desk. “You don’t have to pay a single dime.”  

“Really? That would be great.”  

Not once during our discussion did the gentleman ever blink. If anything, he would freeze up temporarily and just glare at me like a record that has the issue of skipping before resuming. His moved in a wobbly, drunken stupor with his knees buckling and jerking. Did he even have a pair of feet hidden behind the counter? He pushed the journal to me and handed me a pen.  

Once I opened the book. I immediately knew something was amiss. “Walter Bean?”  

The employee froze in place. “Ah, yes. He visited this same hotel. We like to keep their names and addresses for documentation.”  

“Well, it says that he signed this exactly two weeks ago.”  

“We like to record the names and addresses of our guests,” the man replied, somewhat forcefully. His tone sank to a deeper octave.  

“Walter has been missing for a long time. This was the place he was last seen, isn’t it?”  

The man leaned in looking at me with his black holes for eyes. “I assure you that you have nothing to worry about. For all intended purposes, we are not allowed to disclose our clients’ private information.”  

Drat. He was not budging. I could argue with him for hours and hours, but I was not mentally willing to do so. I shrugged and sighed in defeat. “So, just sign my name and address, right?”  

“Very good, sir.”  

I jotted down my signature and address and closed the book. “This town is... something else.”  

“Whatever do you mean?” he asked.  

“Just... in a total state of disrepair. Hardly any birds or other animals aside from rats and... everything seems so... bleak.”  

He chuckled again hearing my complaints. “You sound like you are starving for some entertainment.”  

Without saying anything further, he disappeared almost as quickly as he did manifest. Before I could question him on his sudden interest, he returned holding a flyer in his hand. “Tell me... are you alone?”  

“Alone? Why is that crucial information?” Normally I would be put off by that sort of invasive question, but I decided to play along. “I am single, yes.”  

The gentleman’s smile widened, purple fluid rolling down his mouth in thick layers. “Perhaps... this would be of interest to you?”  

He handed me the flyer. My eyes skimmed the piece of paper the words “Vicksburg’s Annual Mix and Mingle.” My eyebrows stretched in surprise. “A... dating game?”  

He jerked a bit, giving a firm grip on his arm. His frail fingers reached out for the flyer in hopes of reclaiming it, but his grip tightened forcing him to reel back. There was visible hurt on his face as if he was conflicted with revealing the occasion to me. He hissed under his breath before the internal conflict resolved itself. “It is a tradition we have here in our little town.”  

“And... is it the only thing to do here? Nothing like a movie theater or anything else that grandiose?”  

He did not know what I was blabbering on about. “Never mind. I’ll keep this in mind.” The tips of the employees’ mouth curled. “You won’t regret this.”  

With nothing more to say, he pulled a key off the hook and dropped it in my open palm. “Enjoy your stay, sir.”  

Nodding, I started the long ascent up the stairs. While I left, I heard a shrill voice whispering maliciously at the man. It was so low; however, I could not make out what the heated words were. Come to think of it, I didn’t recall seeing anyone else at the hotel.  

The wooden planks creaked under my feet while I approached my room. More dust settled along the rails of the stairs. While I waited for the man, I did sneak a peek at one photo that said the hotel was established 3 centuries ago. You would think that during all that time, they would consider some renovations. From the erosion over the centuries, large gaping holes formed on the floorboards threatening to swallow up any poor sap unaware of their presence.  

“Room 3.”  

I opened the door and in doing so, several cockroaches scuttered out. Peeping inside, it was a relieving sight to see that room, even though it was old, looked presentable. I settled down on the bed’s cover not daring to even see what was underneath. Later that day once I had settled in, I would have to meet up to discuss my business with the higher ups. While thinking about it, my eyes wondered back to the flyer and Walter’s disappearance. I knew damn well that the employee was lying through his mustard teeth. Thinking back, not only was Walter’s name and address listed, but so were the other men that Jacques had reported missing. All of them arrived at the hotel at some point only they never checked out.  

“I’ll contact the private eye soon.” As I settled into bed, my mind continued to whir at the thought of partaking in the annual dating game. Why was the man so insistent on him attending it?  

Chapter 3 

I let my curiosity about the dating game compel me to consider attending it. I did not expect much to come from it, but it should be fun. Besides, I could learn more about the town’s history and potentially gather some information pertaining to Walter’s disappearance. The meet up was in a large auditorium wherein several of Vicksburg’s populace were present. My curiosity slowly subsided when I noticed how every resident was draped in brown cloaks obscuring their pale, hairless bodies save for their hands. Their eyes were downcast and, much like the employee at the hotel prior, they moved in a drunken stupor with their legs knocking and wobbling about reminding one of those trapeze walks at the circus.  

It did not help that the lights were faint, making me bump into things. The raspy, gruff drones of the residents reverberated through the room sounding pained and congested the further they lumbered along. They did not pay much attention to me when I first entered the establishment making me wonder why the man running the service desk was so insistent on me attending. The building was also unbelievably cool but that was to be expected from the town’s ruined state.  

Rationally, I considered leaving then and there, but I ended up going along with the “dating game.” I sat at a table when the first option reared up. It was a rather short woman who leered at me with those same, unblinking eyes of coal. I giggled nervously in an attempt to break the ice. “So... uh... what are you interested in?”  

She opened her mouth letting a low groan leave her lips. Ooze dripped from her lips. “Okay... could I ask you a question?”  

The pale woman was too invested in a huge, hairy cockroach scuttering across the table. Before my eyes, she grabbed it with her open palm and took a huge chomp out of the insect. Her canines ripped clean through the bug, her lips parting as she stretched the roach between her teeth as if the roach was string cheese.  

“Thanks for the introduction. But... I have to respectfully decline. Next.”  

Another woman sat down this time being taller with a hint of moisture behind her eyes. “I was wondering if you know of a man named Walter Bean? He went missing in your town weeks ago.”  

The woman leaned in grinning. A mysterious fluid gushed from her lips when a huge smile spread across her face. Her eyeless sockets bore holes in my body. Her body trembled with pangs of hunger. “Heh, heh... he is here. With us. All are one within our god.”  

“God? What are you...!”  

Before I could probe her further, the woman lunged at me and pinned me to the ground. Her jaws unhinged and I peered into the depths of her mouth. Slimy drool dangled from the ceiling down to the base of her tongue. In desperation, I tried retaliating, but the taller woman was stronger. “Soon, you too will become part of our god.”  

I closed my eyes fully expecting her to bite me in the neck. However, a few solid seconds pass. I reopened my eyes seeing that the woman reeled herself back and clutched her head. “Can’t...hurt...” A shrill voice crawled out from the bowels of her gut making her upper body spasm. “No... yes...! No... get out of my head!” Her head bobbed back and forth with her fingers tightening around her head.”  

I became petrified, but now that she was distracted, I took the opportunity to knock her off. With one swift push, the woman fell to her side still in an eternal battle with herself. A mob of Vicksburg residents staggered forward and dragged the woman away. Gasping on the floor, I slowly collected myself. Coming here was a mistake. I was only here because of a business trip so it was in my best interest to pursue it. Maybe once I get that done, I could leave this godforsaken town in the dust.  

“Oh my... that was quite the experience, wasn’t it?”  

My eyes leered a young woman. What a sight she was. Blue eyes; a flawlessly silky skin complexion. A low-cut red dress and ample buxom. And a dark blonde bob cut with matching piercings. She strolled over to me and knelt at my eye level. “Welcome to Vicksburg, sweetheart.”  

She extended a hand to me and, with little consideration for my own safety, I took her hand. Her palm was warm and cozy to the touch. There was something about her that seemed... soothing. “We haven’t had that many visitors to this town in a while. Pray tell, why are you here?”  

My mind became a total blur. “I... um... I came here for business, yeah, that’s it.”  

The woman laughed to herself. Dimples formed at the corners of her mouth only accentuating her wholesomeness. I got up from the ground my eyes wandering back to the strange woman. “You seem... normal.”  

“Normal? Well, I certainly hope so, darling.”  

“It’s just that... the other residents here are... somewhat peculiar.”  

“Ah, that was my reaction to when I first moved here.” She looked me over, her smile widening. My name is Narcissa Witwe. Judging by your appearance, you must be the one who was invited to Vicksburg.”  

“Yes. My boss had connections in this town and had me come as a representative. Funnily enough, I never met him in person.”  

Narcissa nodded. My god, I fell further ensnared by this mystery woman. If I had to wager why that was, it was definitely her voice. Herred lipstick popped like precious rubies. Her plump, luscious lips were like hot butter with how flawlessly she spoke. I slowly forgot the horror of being nearly ingested by a psychotic woman. The more she talked, I felt myself falling deeper for her. “You... happened to be invited to attend this occasion?”  

“Why, yes. I thought it would be pretty interesting. Vicksburg has this as a tradition. I was honestly getting bored out of my mind, my dear... but you made this more fun.”  

I looked down and twiddled my thumbs. “So... you are willing to try this date out?”  

“I would love that.”  

We ended up talking for hours far past the time limit. Narcissa was truly an interesting individual. She had an extensive knowledge of the town and other subject matter. I found myself further wowed by her effortless recounting of historical events providing me with such an elaborate description, I was wondering if she witnessed any herself. She claimed to have family back in some city and was intending on returning there after the business trip. That infectious laugh of hers was music to my ears. I shared some of my personal information with her explaining the extent of my job and my interests. I have to admit that my eyes had a mind of their own. I gazed at her cleavage any time she bent. She propped her head on her hand and lovingly stared at me.  

“Come to think of it, there was something that I was curious about. Have you heard of a man named Walter Bean?”  

Narcissa squinted her eyes shut. “The name does ring a bell. Why do you ask?”  

“It’s just that he’s been missing for quite some time.”  

“Hm... perhaps he left the town and just neglected to inform anyone?”  

I shrugged. “I suppose so. Sorry to spring something that deep on you.”  

“It’s quite alright. After all, I am sure you heard of the rumors permeating the town?”  

I nodded. “Yeah, a private investigator told me of them.”  

Narcissa frowned. “It’s just so terrible, isn’t it? That a loving wife and mother would sacrifice her own family for eternal youth?”  

“Yeah, but it’s a story. We shouldn’t fret over some myth.”  

A smile canceled out her frown. “You’re right. Shall we... take this discussion elsewhere?”  

Chapter 4 

As my time in Vicksburg progressed, I met up with Narcissa more and more. Her cutesy yet mature, witty personality was her signature charm. She filled me in on the origins of the myth again with such vividness, it was like she was there. She expanded on Jacques’s relaying of information explaining how, according to ancient cults, there were once several inhuman, otherworldly gods that made the Earth into a festering cesspool and were worshiped by the cultists until the day the primal threats were sealed away in ancient tombs left to rot. That is, till the day they will arise and treat mankind as an insignificant bug.  

“As you know, there was once a woman who was so afraid of death, so she called on the gods to preserve her youth and gain eternal life. She wandered down into the depths of the Earth to beseech an Old One. And the god she sought out was none other than that Pale Beast, the God of the Labyrinth, Eihort. But, as with anything, there was a price to be paid.”  

I quietly listened. Who could have fathomed that there were so many hidden societies dedicated to worshiping these unknowable, eldritch beings, and for what cause? Are they obsessed with bringing about the apocalypse and practice their perverse religions to summon them? What ancient books did they have in their possession?  

“And you say that this woman found an undead cultist who gave her secrets to communing with Eihort? What did she have to do?”  

“Reprehensible acts that went against natural law and would damn her very soul to the darkest pits of Hell. She knew the secrets of where the gods of old laid dead and where they would once more trek. She uncovered the truth behind our known reality and peeked her eyes into infinity. With the assistance of that Pale Beast, she could even travel dimensions without the need of ever leaving home. Life itself was an illusion, a cheap replica of what eternity felt like.”  

My heart sank into the depths of my body. Cults. An ancient, primal god. My mind connected the dots back to when I first took part in the dating game. All the citizens of Vicksburg wore cloaks, something that I should have correlated long ago. That woman insisting that Walter and the others were all one in the god she worshiped. I had become ensnared in a tangle of webs.  

Screw everything. I had to get out.  

Narcissa stared at me her blue eyes reflecting her concern. “What’s wrong, darling?”  

“I... just feel a little flushed.”  

“You don’t have to lie to me. I can sense how uneasy you are about the cults I mentioned. But don’t worry; there is nothing to be concerned about. I am sure you noticed that the townspeople wear those garments. It is not what you think.”  

“Then... why do they wear them?”  

“It is rather simple; the people of Vicksburg have a weakness for sunlight. Tell me: have you ever seen any of them walking about during the day?”  

I thought back to my previous encounters with the townspeople. Truth be told, they were able to freely shuffle around in the auditorium because of an artificial light. Even the hotel I resided in was dimly lit. “Then... what about when that woman attacked me? She seemed... conflicted about it. It was almost like two halves were fighting each other.”  

“Perhaps a temporary bout of madness,” Narcissa casually explained, “besides, Vicksburg hardly has any outsiders visit their town; she was probably just overcome with astonishment.”  

I did not say anything to further rebut her. “I... am unsure if I should stay here.”  

Narcissa’s eyes lowered in a crestfallen fashion. It nearly pained me to see her upset. “Is that so?”  

“I have spent about two weeks here and I was never able to find the people who wanted to do business with me. To be completely frank, I believe that it was all a ruse to make me look like a fool.”  

The blonde woman paused and thought intensely of her next move. “If that is the truth, then I may as well explain why I am really here.”  

My curiosity piqued in that moment. “What happened?”  

“To tell you the truth... my life back home isn’t good. I... have a husband who is a raging alcoholic who would beat me unconscious every day he came back from work. If it wasn’t me, he would go after our two kids. One day, he beat me up so badly. I...” she paused, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I was in the hospital for three months. After that, I somehow managed to escape his wrath and ran away from home.”  

She covered her eyes with her hands and bitterly wept into them. Her breathing became staggered the more she let her raw emotions loose. “I know I shouldn’t have abandoned my kids with their father... it was a moment of weakness!”  

I didn’t know what to say at that instant. It was quite the bombshell I was handed. Without thinking heavily on it, I gently embraced her. She was startled at first, but she slowly melted into the hug, clasping my back. “I’m... so sorry to hear that.”  

“You shouldn’t be. It is not your problem to deal with,” she replied.  

“I’m planning on leaving Vicksburg tomorrow. If it is fine with you, would you care to accompany me?”  

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a burden on you.”  

“No, you won’t bother me at all. It’s the least I could do.”  

Her smile poked through. “It’s a deal.”  

Chapter 5 

It was approaching nighttime when I returned to the hotel. I approached the counter and hit the bell. “Sir, I’m informing you that I will be leaving first thing tomorrow.”  

Much like the first time I arrived, the employee did not come. I tapped the dusty counter with my fingers in irritation. “Sir, let’s not do this again.”  

I allowed some more time to pass, but the man still did not show up. “Is that how you are to treat a customer?”  

Refusing to wait any longer, I climbed over the counter nearly getting tangled in cobwebs. “Bleh! Yuck! How can anyone live in this kind of condition?”  

From the way the lights were dimly flickering, I was forced to collect as much light into my eyes. As expected, the room was in total disrepair. Books were lying in piles beside the bookshelves. Webs coated furniture and tickled my nose. I fought the urge to sneeze. The floorboards creaked and moaned under my weight. The further I went, the light diluted into beams. “Sir, come out now. This is getting ridiculous...”  

Finally, my eyes settled on a heap of clothes. He couldn’t. Could he? The thought of the peculiar man parading around in his birthday suit was burned into my mind. A ruffling of the clothes knocked me out of my train of thought. I slowly advanced towards the clothes with it becoming evident that the man evaporated. Before I could theorize what happened to him, dozens of small white objects erupted from the clothing and scuttered around like cockroaches dispersing when a light is turned on.  

“What the?!”  

The millions of spidery, bloated beings crawled on the walls and up my clothes. In a panic, I scrambled over the counter the wet squelches of crushed younglings making me squeamish. Debris rained down from the ceiling as a sudden earthquake surged. I could have sworn I heard something writhing in agony from the bowels of the Earth. The foundation of the hotel shook incessantly and groaned with the death of each abomination suggesting a possible link between the two. The stairs finally dissolved and exploded into splinters.  I covered my head as best I could, but the monstrous arachnids kept pursuing.  

Squish, squish, squish.  

The wet, gooey bodies of the monsters popped under my feet like overripe grapes. I had the sinking feeling some of the residue getting between my toes. Eldritch ooze clung to the soles of my shoes restricting my movement. Each time I tried to move, the runny, stringy substance came into contact with the floor and formed a strong adhesive.  

And those legs. So many legs. Hundreds of thousands of marbles with an unnatural number of appendages crawled on my body. They creeped their way up my pants legs, with some slithering beneath the fabric. No matter how many times I tried to bat them off, these abominations latched on my body. The hairs on my body rose on end from the impression that I was being licked by the millions of spiders. My skin felt violated from the endless probing and pinching. I grabbed my ankles and continued my mad attempt to free myself.  

“H...help...”  

A faint, weak murmur caught my attention. I darted my eyes back and forth in search of the scream of urgency seeing no one until I directed my sight to a hideous event. The white, pulsating blobs with stalks for legs linked the innumerable limbs together in huge, grotesque lines and did the most harrowing of things any sensible man could anticipate they started to move in a single motion multiplying and expanding until... something ghastly was taking form.  

The gunky paste on the soles of my shoes finally gave way. However, when combined with the invasive pests crawling all over me and making me squirm, I fell on my rear. The monsters kept feeding into the growing figure. Much like a well-oiled machine, the beasts kept feeding themselves into each other. “Help...”  

With all of the beasts working together, a human shape came to being. They moved in a swimming motion shifting their icky legs to a side to mimic the gesture of limbs. The dread welled up in the pit of my stomach and crawled up my throat. The insidious spawn multiplied further, breaking apart and restructuring themselves until a vaguely humanoid shape took form. However, its skin became melty and ran like a lit wax candle. 

My eyes became blood shot. It was the employee. Except now, it was clear to me that what I was speaking to in my entire stay in Vicksburg were millions of blotches who hardly could pass themselves off as human. The piercing assaulted my ear drums calling to mind a nail scratching a chalkboard. The man, nay, the creature, moved about miserably dragging its upper body along the floor. Its mouth hung agape with a hazed wheeze spewing out. Almost every slight movement brought unending suffering for it, it seemed.  

The humanoid anomaly held out its hand to me, gesturing in a hopeful fashion. It jerked itself closer to me, moaning and shuffling just to stay in its form a bit longer. I became frozen temporarily horrified at the unholy display which violated the laws of nature that every being under the sun had to follow. The hotel continued to collapse around us shaking me out of my terror. I slowly backed away from the monster, but it somehow sensed what I was intending to do and clawed its way towards me. It hissed at me, destroying the illusion it was desperately clinging to.  

Before it could strike, a plank fell from the collapsing ceiling and pinned it. It let out a high-pitched, hellish shriek, but there was no way I was going to humor it. I rushed to the door, the wet squelches of the broodlings I had killed echoing.  

Chapter 6 

I succeeded at escaping the hotel as it suffered its final death throes and went up in a heap of primeval dust. As it cleared, all that was left of the establishment was a pile of bricks and smoking debris. My mind was still wrapped around the surreality of the situation. The pale, hairless appearance of the man. All the residents of the town’s bizarre skin complexions. How that woman fought herself when she was deciding whether to eat me or not. None of them were humans but arachnid, hideous carbon copies that struggled to be approachable. I shook my head. Whatever the case, I had to leave Vicksburg, but not before taking Narcissa with me. After all, I could not live with myself if I knowingly abandoned someone in this wretched town.  

High-pitched screams filled the empty air alerting me. Crap. More of the “neighbors” are coming, obviously because they heard the collapse of the old building. Without much contemplation, I hid in the alleyway and bit my lower lip. Their gravely, guttural voices were like waterlogged bodies with their constant squelching and damp noises.  

Cautiously, I peered from a corner of an abandoned store seeing four cloaked Vicksburg citizens staggering on their legs. If only I could decipher what they were saying to each other only for curiosity’s sake. As they chatted, one of the hooded figures stopped and slipped his hood from his bald head. I heard what sounded like mandibles clanging on each other when I noticed he was getting closer.  

I backed further into the alleyway out of concern that he had seen me. The hissing reached its apex with his long, spiderly fingers scraping the edge of the building. I shimmied down to get as close to the ground I could. Even though it was nighttime, the creature’s glare burned holes in the back of my head. He entered the alley sliding his appendages in the dark void. We were so close; I smelled his pungent breath.  

Eventually, something else caught his attention and he left with his group. I wiped the sweat off my brow and sighed in relief. With them distracted, I could make my escape attempt. However, before I could continue the next phase of my plan, a feminine voice echoed through the streets. My eyes widened in shock.  

“Narcissa!”  

I peeped from behind the dilapidated wall and almost doubled over. Narcissa was captured by the Vicksburg anomalies with her distress. Her arms flailed around with the feeble hope of striking one of her threats. I... had to do something. But what could I do?  

I rummaged through my mind for a solution, but Narcissa’s screams were making me anxious. Swallowing my pride, I sprinted towards the assembly and balled my fists. I swung wildly in the air smashing my knuckles over and over their gelatinous mass felt like I was punching raw meat. 

The more I railed against them, the Vicksburg anomalies gradually lost their corporeal forms and disintegrated exploding into millions of skittering spiders. Narcissa glared in absolute horror upon seeing these humanoid beings dissolve into pulsating, rampant marbles on thousands of stalks. 

“What… is this?” 

There was no time to explain. I grabbed her wrist and urged her to move. Her warm, silky hand felt amazing to grope, but I threw that thought to the back of my mind. My heart galloped behind my chest my breathing became taxing. My lungs wheezed and buckled beneath my rib cage. The sound of thousands of bony, fleshless legs scraping the ground reverberated on the streets. “Everyone… in this town… all those monstrosities link together mimicking the basic movements of the human body.” 

Narcissa shared an equal look of dread. “What should we do?” She grasped my arm and squeezed up against it. Her soft breasts felt amazing around my wedged arm driving me crazy. Her warm breath sent a chill down my spine. Even when she was being terrified, that statuesque glare of hers made her impeccable.  

“We have to find a place to hide and wait for things to blow over.” 

The blonde woman scratched her head. “If we are looking for a refuge, I know just the place.” 

Chapter 7 

I let Narcissa lead the way happy that she knew the layouts of the town. Throughout the whole secretive walk, we did not speak a word to each other. The air around us became thick enough to slice with a knife. After about two seconds into it, I tried to break the ice.  “So... we have been traveling for a while, haven’t we?”  

She did not respond. That night was especially breathtaking. The moon was in close proximity to the Earth resembling a polished full moon. Narcissa used the light radiating from the celestial body and led me further away from the town and into the rough thickets of the woods. The forest was completely bereft of noise. No owls screeched in the night; if there were crickets, they were deathly silent. Narcissa gently tugged my arm deeper in the neck of the woods until we stopped at a cave.  

At the entrance, Narcissa withdrew a torch and lit it. She then beckoned me inside. I was not thrilled to be entering into a dreary, claustrophobic area, but those cultists could still be on our track. Soaking in my fears, I entered the cold and dreary cave. A pungent, repulsive smell, that of decaying matter, drifted from the entrance. The odor of ages long pass was not lost on me. I stared at Narcissa wondering how she was holding up, but she was unbothered. “Let’s go. We don’t have much time to waste.”  

She flicked her finger through her bangs before leading me further into the maw of the cave. It was silent aside from our footsteps and the soft dripping of moisture in the distance. Water sparkled on the stalacites like beads of diamonds and trickled into an underground pool. I confused the stalagmites for razor, jagged teeth from the erosion over the years. Behind us, the entrance disappeared into the void as shadows encased us. The wind whistled into the cave adding onto the ambiance. If... I was being accurate in my description; I could have sworn I heard the cavern breathe.  

And the cavernous walls appeared to twist and contract like a living creature.  

My paranoia became flared. I wanted nothing more to leave, but the exit was nowhere to be seen. Besides, if I left on my own volition, I would have become stranded and made to wander in the dark until the end of time. My breathing hazed and goosebumps flared on the surface of my skin. Fluid fell on my shoulders from the stalacites making me wriggle in displeasure. Eventually, Narcissa led me to an opening. “What is this place?”  

Narcissa didn’t reply, merely goading me in with her finger. Seeing no reason to doubt her, I entered the area. The secret location was decked in heavy sheets of cobwebs which dangled down from the ceiling. It was also inexplicably damp and the disgusting, putrid scent of decay was even more prominent. My eyes settled on discarded skeletons with their wrists restrained in chains protruding from the walls. They were likely down here for centuries judging from their aged, worn features. Whatever they had witnessed, they died in total fright. Their lower jaws were stretched as far as humanly possible to where they became unhinged. Over the years, the only thing keeping them suspended was the webbing.  

The more I soaked in my surroundings, I became aware of the purpose the location served. There was a huge slab situated in front of a bottomless pit at the base of the cave. Arms made from wedges of stone stretched from the structure. Dried blood and viscera were stained on the flat surface of the instrument. I desperately looked at Narcissa with the hopes she was as confused as I was.  

However, instead of a detection of fear... Narcissa’s facial expressions shifted to one that was apathetic to the whole thing. I watched her stride over and light a crucible underneath the stone slab. The gaseous, nauseating fumes wafted in the air smelling like rotten flesh and scorched ashes. Her once beautiful, hypnotizing eyes transitioned to a pale blue as if her energy was sucked from her body.  

“Hundreds of years ago, the great Old One Eihort first manifested in the town of Vicksburg. This cave is the exact place that, according to folk tales, a woman who came from an impoverished upbringing, made a deal to the gods for eternal beauty and youth.”  

“Narcissa? What are you suggesting?”  

I felt a wet, slick object grasp my shoulders. The cultists’ voices gurgled and wheezed. Before I could try to fight back, two of the worshipers lifted me off the ground and directed me to the stone slab. I kicked and thrashed. I flailed my arms around. Nothing happened. They tossed me on the hard surface with such force I felt my spine buckle. My wrists were tightly tied to the arms of the instrument, the ropes ate into the tender flesh.  

Narcissa stared at me for a few seconds. She was no longer the woman I thought I knew for a duration of my stay in Vicksburg. She strolled over, kneeling and staring at the primitive skeletons. “And once again, my god will have a sacrifice.”  

Sacrifice? The word bounced around in my head. Everything was happening so fast. “You... know an awful lot about that myth.”  

She laughed. “Well, yes... after all, how old do you think I am?”  

I strained against the tight binds to no avail. “The town and its conditions. It was always you.”  

“Hundreds of years ago, the town of Vicksburg was once a prosperous area. It was a massive trading town where corn, pumpkins, fabric... you name it were traded and sold. I was born to a poor family, but I was considered the fairest of the town. Of those a nobleman took a liking. After meeting him on several nights, he popped the question to me. And, I said yes.”  

I grunted under my breath. “Then why did you betray your own family?”  

“What do you think is the one fear that all humans share?” Narcissa asked, though it was clear she did not care what my answer was. “Death. Humans have had several accomplishments when they crawled out from the festering, primordial cesspool. And yet, despite all those achievements, the one thing that they failed to conquer was death.”  

She casually pried the skull off a skeleton and flicked her fingers through the jawbones. “I knew that one day... I would die. But... I couldn’t live with that harsh truth. Not someone who is as gorgeous as me!”  

Narcissa tossed the skull aside and spoke to the cultists. “You think that you saved me from earlier? Don’t you realize that the people of Vicksburg follow my commands?”  

“So... then that means Walter...”  

Her eyebrow perked. “Is dead? That should be obvious. I thought you of all people would be more intuitive. He was but a sacrifice. One I lured.”  

“That explains why I was told to come here... so the dating game?”  

Narcissa hushed me. “A ruse, sweetheart. How else was I supposed to meet up with you?”  

The cultists backed away from me and collapsed on their knees in a praying stance.  

“My fear of death became so great; I called on the God of the Labyrinth to grant me eternity. Which he did. However, I had neglected the fact that Eihort himself had his own terms. He asked me to foster his brood. Not thinking much about it, I accepted. They are squirming around within me as we speak in a larval state. But... once I realized his brood would eat their way out of my body, it was then that the truth became clear. He merely extended my lifespan, but in order to avoid missing his quota, I had to resort to drastic measures.”  

“Your husband and kids... how could you...”  

“Necessary sacrifices. After them, I did the same process to the rest of the town. Some would go missing for weeks locked away in my lair with their bodies being dissolved and eaten from the inside out. Curiously, the Broodling acquired memories of their hosts sometimes effortlessly mimicking their voices. I saw that happen with a young, 32-year-old I lured. The Broodling demonstrated mannerisms he himself had. Perhaps when a host perishes, they are never truly gone but exist as bodiless spirits attached to the Broodling.”  

It made a considerable amount of sense despite the bizarre nature: the hotel worker and the woman he met at the dating game. Their essences were still present within these anomalies, and they were crying for release. Narcissa cleared her throat and walked over to caress my cheek. “Shame... you were really nice.” She chuckled again. “Eventually in my haste to stay alive, I accidentally destroyed the town. I tried any solution I could think of like introducing interbreeding among the Broodling, but after a few centuries, that was not enough.”  

“What... are you getting out of helping an Old One? You know the risks these unspeakable monstrosities have for the Earth.”  

“The God of the Labyrinth shall once again be free to rule this world. I intend on becoming a lower royalty once the ancient crypts are opened. I already have served Eihort faithfully as his high priestess for centuries. I am not some lowly, weak, insignificant human. I have ascended to godhood, and I believe I deserve my dues. Wouldn’t you?”  

My eyebrows furrowed. “After I comforted you about the abuse you suffered....”  

“You BELIEVED that story?” Narcissa’s chuckling became louder and echoed throughout the cave. “Gods... you are as pathetic as all those other humans who I tricked into loving me.”  

I snarled. “You’ll never get away with this. I will escape and tell Jacques all about what I learned. This town will be demolished faster than you could even blink.” 

Narcissa’s grin stretched around her ears. “Need I remind you that the Broodling follow my commands because of the spawn that are swimming in my stomach? Through Eihort, I have eyes all over the scope of this world. Let’s just say he was paid a very special visit.” 

I wanted to say more, perhaps call Narcissa every name under the sun, but I froze when a series of tremors shook the cave to its very core. Narcissa maniacally snickered at me relishing in how utterly defenseless I was. “Now... time for you to make the choice so many before you have.”  

My fear bubbled from the deepest regions of my stomach, but there was no one present who could help me. The ceiling quaked as a series of cracks formed. Stalacites of varying sizes crumbled and fell around me. It was as if legions of freight trains collided all at once in a massive collision of biblical proportions.  

Chapter 8 

And then... I caught a glimpse of those... legs... hundreds of thousands of rigid, bony legs rose out of the hole, scraping and clawing the ground for leverage. Larger than a public bus. Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead, the color drained from my face. Eyes upon eyes where such features should not reasonably be. Peepers so horridly massive they eclipsed the eyes of the largest known species on this planet. Its pale, gelatinous mass bubbled to the surface resembling a disgusting, pus-filled pimple and its abdomen. Good god, its abdomen. It was shaped like some overgrown olive with eyes bulging all over every surface of its great body. The God of the Labyrinth towered over me with his unholy glory.  

My blood ran cold, and I was at a loss for words. Eihort moved in an abnormal, hypnotizing motion, swaying back and forth with nary a bone to be found on its gelatinous build. I immediately understood what Narcissa meant when she said she had eyes throughout the world: the multi-legged abomination’s “labyrinth” expanded across the globe granting it the illusion of being omnipresent. At any time, some hapless sap could end up lost in the cavernous walls and encounter this Old One. It unnerved me how easy it was.  

Narcissa cackled, her smile becoming more twisted. “I have done what you have requested of me, my god. Please, bestow me with your blessings!”  

Eihort shifted its many eyeballs to what I assume was his chest. It spoke with the same gravely, gurgled voice its offspring shared. Its voice... was not what I was expecting for a creature as huge as a boulder. Its tone was distant, bizarrely cordial. Despite its terribleness, the Pale God was patient. Unspeakably so.  

“I’m afraid you misunderstand, mortal. Your time as my high priest has reached an unfortunate end.”  

Narcissa’s eyes widened in horror. “But... my lord...! Have I not faithfully served you for centuries? I have provided you with the best sacrifices to meet your quota!”  

“You are such an insignificant, incompetent waste of filth.” Something shifted within Eihort’s indescribable mass stretched and twisted indefinitely into itself forming a colossal fist. “You have forgotten your place, human. You may have an extended life in comparison to the rest of your kind... but you also forget who it is who can take it away.”  

Narcissa clasped her hands together in deep prayer. “No, Eihort, please! I am sorry for speaking out of turn! Please, let me serve you for eternity! I will kill whoever I have to in your name if you jus-!”  

Without warning, Narcissa keeled forward grimacing. Her eyes bulged upon the realization of what was happening to her. Dozens of Eihort’s brood squirmed and wriggled from within her body ruffling her outer skin. She clutched her midsection between her arms letting rip a haunting, agony-filled moan. Yet, no matter how much she begged, her desperation fell on deaf ears. Narcissa’s face contorted into a twisted scowl with ludicrous tears streaming down.  “No... my lord....”  

A deathly cough started to choke her out. Gagging profusely, streams of white, spindly critters wriggled free. Her eyes disintegrated as the insidious creatures chewed their way out. Her sobs of pain transitioned to wet squelches and tearing of flesh. The brood slashed their way through her lungs and turned them to slush along with her other vital organs. Narcissa’s once glamorous, flawless skin bubbled and popped as thousands of spawn made a mad dash. Even her skeleton dissolved into more nutrients for the hungry infants. Within three agonizing moments, Narcissa was gone. All that was left of her were her favorite dress and ear piercings.  

I struggled to breathe after being bare to witness Narcissa suffer a form of divine punishment. However, I faced the horrific reality that I was now alone with her murderer. Eihort’s arm twisted and shifted, moving from one side of his body to the other as if he was contemplating when an appropriate time was to drop its mass on me. Its myriads of eyes settled on me. Even without the Old One talking, I knew how lowly he thought of me.  

“Fear not, my dear human” it whispered. Once more, its voice sounded soothing, but I realized that it was not because of true benevolence but rather manipulation. “I shall give you an offer, and I am certain that you will not choose poorly.”  

Everything that I thought I knew disappeared in an instant. We, as humans, were so convinced of our place in the universe, but there existed things, horrible, reality-breaking things. Things that no one of sound mind should fathom or search for truly existed. We are but a speck of dust in the grand scheme of things, and the Old Ones thirst for release.  

“You will gestate my brood. Otherwise... I have no further use for you.”  

My lips were dry. I... did not know what I should say at that moment. My options were limited considerably: should I agree and allow Eihort to gestate me with his offspring, I don’t think I would be getting off that easily judging by what happened to Narcissa. But...seeing that titanic fist hovering above me, swinging back and forth like a pendulum, was also a situation I wanted to avoid at all costs.  

“Unless... you wish to become my Chosen?”  

“Chosen?” My mind worked into overdrive to comprehend the offer. That must have been what Narcissa was. If so... if that entails sacrificing the life of someone else for my own safety was not only an irredeemable act, but also very cowardly. After mulling it over, I came to a decision. 

“I think I know what I want...”  

[soundsofcicadas]

Swan Song, part one

Pairing: Koo Junhoe x Reader (f)

Genres: Drama, Angst, Romance, Childhood best friends, Junhoe is a former idol, Friends to lovers

Count: 2697

Warnings: None

Synopsis: After an unexpected encounter with your childhood best friend Junhoe, years after drifting apart, your rekindled friendship blooms anew. However, life takes a turn when he asks you to pen an article for his upcoming wedding. As you become entangled in his personal life, your old feelings of love for him begin resurfacing and the concealed secret behind his decision to abandon his idol career is soon to be unveiled by you. 

It was a dreary, rain-soaked afternoon and you found yourself carrying a couple of grocery bags, each lightly dampened by the persistent drizzle. The rain had already drenched your umbrella, rendering it almost useless. You let out a sigh and quickened your pace, hoping to reach your apartment before the rain grew heavier. Upon crossing the street, you noticed an old record store nestled between a quaint cafe and a cozy bookstore. You glanced up and saw its faded sign bore the name “Good Oldies,” and a sudden sense of nostalgia washed over you.   

“Should I?” You asked yourself with some hesitation. You looked at the groceries in your hands for a moment before a faint smile appeared on your face. Despite them weighing you down, curiosity got the better of you.  

You pushed open the creaky door of the record store. A soft bell tinkled above as you stepped in, greeted by the familiar scent of old vinyl and the gentle hum of music playing on a vintage turntable. Rows upon rows of vinyl records filled the store, their covers adorned with vibrant artwork and the promise of forgotten melodies. You set your grocery bags down and began flipping through the albums, each one a portal to a different era. Lost in the world of music, you finally settled on a Billie Holiday record, its cover portraying the singer’s side view posing behind a purplish background. As you held the record in your hands, your eyes caught a tall figure browsing by the “Rock” section in the next aisle. Aside from the cashier patiently waiting at the counter, only the two of you were the customers inside. You couldn’t help but stare at the mysterious man in front of you. He was wearing jeans, paired with a matching brown corduroy blazer and a baseball cap. You could see him picking up a Bob Dylan record and once he turned around, you glanced up to see his face clearly.  

You froze, your eyes fluttered rapidly.  

Even if you could only see half of his face, you surely recognized him. A jumble of emotions rushed through you—surprise, longing? A twinge of anxiety.   

Is it really him? No, it’s definitely him! Should I approach him? What if he doesn’t recognize me?  

Without further thought, you took a deep breath and cleared your throat. He was about to walk towards the counter when your voice broke through the soft veil background music in the sparsely populated store.   

“Junhoe?” You called.  

Junhoe halted and took a glimpse at you, his brows furrowed in confusion.   

Your heart sank, but you pressed on moving closely to him. “It’s me, y/n. We used to live next door to each other when we were kids.”  

Junhoe turned to face you completely.  

Familiarity dawned on him as he began examining the stranger before him—from the contours of your face to the soft curve of your cheeks. Your long ebony hair, still dampened from the rain. Your eyes were bright, widened in astonishment. You were wearing a long white sundress covered in an oversized baby pink coat, a Lady Satin album in your hands.  

“Y/n?” He mumbled.  

You were his childhood best friend, until he dropped out in middle school and left for the city to pursue his dreams. You were the one he promised to call and write but never did. When did he forget about you? He couldn’t even remember. Junhoe sifted through his forgotten memories of you and for some unknown reason, found comfort in recalling how you used to exude a carefree spirit when you were both young. You were one of the boys in the neighborhood and never changed your circle of friends, even when you all started attending school up to your adolescence. He fondly remembered how, during your escapades together, you would match your energy with him and the boys in the group effortlessly. Being the eldest among the six of them, you naturally assumed the role of an older sister. You became their protector against mean kids if any of them were bullied.  

Junhoe’s gaze lingered on the subtle changes in your style, the way your clothing reflects your femininity. Your posture now carried a touch of maturity, but your features still looked youthful, untouched by the passage of time. Gone was the y/n who hunted for frogs and insects with him in her tees and chucks.  

Junhoe noticed how he had almost gotten lost in his thoughts upon hearing you answer him excitedly with a “Yes, it’s me! I can’t believe it’s you.”  

“I can’t believe it’s you too.” He responded to you with a warm smile.   

************************************************************************  

“You didn’t have to pay for it, you know.” You said shyly to Junhoe, pertaining to the album he bought for you from the record store. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as you and Junhoe sat across from each other in a secluded corner of the coffee shop. The clinking of cups and hushed conversations along with the playing jazz melody formed as gentle backdrop to your reunion.  

“It’s not free! You're paying for my coffee.” Junhoe teased, earning a laugh from you.  

“You bet it’s my treat today!” You nodded with a grin. There was a brief pause when you added, “Thank you Junhoe for coming here with me. I’m not taking too much of your time, am I?”  

Junhoe shook his head. “Oh no y/n! I’m actually on vacation right now. I was here just a few days ago.”  

So this is why he’s back. You mused.  

Taking a sip from the hot caramel macchiato you ordered, you had a chance to observe Junhoe over the brim of your cup—the white undershirt suited his ensemble that day. You knew the baseball cap perched casually on his head was not just a simple accessory. It created a shield of privacy around him from the curious gazes of onlookers given the fact that Junhoe was still a celebrity. You didn’t mind ordering for him. You knew he wanted to pick a spot away from the prying eyes of customers, hence to where the both of you are now nestled. It offered a discreet setting to catch up after all those lost time.       Junhoe peeked through the misty glass of the cafe’s window, where the rain seemed to have turned into light pattering before he glimpsed back at you.  

“It’s been so long, y/n. I can’t believe we’re sitting here after all these years.”  

You beamed at him and set your coffee down on the tabletop, “I know, right? Life has taken us on such different paths.��  

Junhoe’s expression shifted, a hint of remorse tugging at his sharp features. “Y/n, I feel terrible for not keeping in touch, especially considering how close we were.”  

Your gaze softened, but your smile was unwavering. “It’s okay, Junhoe. You were chasing your passion, and you built a new life for yourself outside this town. Not all of us were headed in the same direction anyway. It genuinely made me happy to see you thriving. I’ve always been proud of you, Junhoe.”  

Your last statement piqued Junhoe's curiosity.  

“Proud?” He repeated.  

“How do I say this—” You tried to avoid looking at his face. Your sight dipping into the stain of your lipstick on the cup of your coffee as if seeking solace. You felt a pang of embarrassment tickling the edges of your consciousness, a quiet voice whispering the fear that your words might be misconstrued. You didn’t want him to think you were some sort of fervent, overzealous stalker. A faint blush tinted your cheeks. Your fingers fidgeted nervously with the fabric of your dress.  

“I followed your journey as a singer Junhoe. Your rise to fame was like a whirlwind. Your voice was everywhere.” You divulged. “I even went to some of your concerts to be honest.”  

Junhoe’s awe hung in the air from your confession, yet he held no judgement from it. He was grateful, flattered to say the least.  

“I wish I had known that y/n. Thank you.” He said to you with care.  

“But I’m definitely not a saesang or anything.” You reassured him with a nervous laugh. You didn’t dare to meet Junhoe’s eyes because sharing this information with him made you feel exposed, yet you continued, “You were the closest friend I ever had, and I guess I’ve always clung to the belief that your dreams would come true. Regardless of the passing years and not hearing anything from you, you still have a special place in my heart.”  

Junhoe began to feel the weight of your words, a surge of sorrow and regret engulfed him. He reflected on how your connection with each other in the past was unbreakable. His inseparability with you was the envy of the other boys in your circle. You had always favored him, making your bond together a more special one. You stood by him, especially during his appearances in school talent shows and local town festivals. You consistently supported him to the point where you recorded his audition tapes sent to entertainment companies. Junhoe got accepted by YG Entertainment eventually, and your joy that day for him was immeasurable. You even brought the boys with you to accompany him on his first day of training to the company.  

“I’m really sorry, y/n.” Junhoe stated, his face grim. “You know, during those years, I was so caught up with the hectic demand of my career. I lost contact with a lot of people, including you.” Junhoe was struggling to find the right words, knowing that they might come across as excuses for not reaching out for such a long time. Yet, they were the only words he could muster.  

The fervent pursuit of Junhoe’s dream to become a singer resulted in his connections slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers. The rigors of his training consumed his time and energy, leaving little room to see or talk to his circle of friends. Gradually, Junhoe started living at the company’s dormitory which made him more detached from them. Their relationship began to fray due to his lack of communication—the letters he’d forgotten to read, calls gone to voicemail and most importantly, the highlights of the lives of his friends he missed out on knowing and witnessing, causing both sides to finally dwindle into silence. As Junhoe marched toward his debut, the overwhelming preparation and anticipation completely absorbed him. The spotlight of the stage beckoned, and the weight of his ambition denied him the opportunity to look backwards. The vortex of his rise to fame kept him farther from his roots. Recording sessions, photo shoots, TV appearances and tours became the center of his everyday life. It cast him into a turbulence of events that seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. The adoration of fans, the flashes of cameras and the cheers of crowds all consumed his focus. The memories of his friends back in his hometown became a blur, their faces fading like distant constellations in the night sky.  

The realization of how you held onto your belief that he would achieve his aspirations, had affected Junhoe in some kind of way. Your persistence in tracking his path as a singer astounded him. He was profoundly moved how you cherished your friendship after such a long period of being apart.  

However, at that exact moment, a haunting thought emerged within Junhoe, creeping into the recesses of his mind like an uninvited guest. In your presence, a world he had thought he’d left behind reignited, casting a shadow of pain over him. A bittersweet memory of a dream that had once been within his grasp, disappeared as swiftly as a fleeting breath.  

You returned your attention back to Junhoe. It was not your intention to cause him any negative feelings.  

“Please don’t feel bad, Junhoe.” You pleaded. “We were kids, and circumstances changed. I never held it against you.”  

Junhoe had somehow found consolation in your words, although a subtle ache still persisted beneath the surface.  

“Thank you, y/n. That means a lot to me.” He said sincerely.   

“I know this may sound too much Junhoe, but I knew then you were destined to be a singer. You weren’t meant to be stuck in this town like me.” You declared. “That’s why it made me sad when you retired from music. You were at the peak of your career, but I truly get it and I still support you pursuing other things.”  

Junhoe leaned back in his chair and looked at the momentarily forgotten coffee on the table, as if searching for the right answer. He was torn between vulnerability and a desire to protect the fragile facade he had built. He wrestled between overwhelming emotions, a torrent of memories he had forgotten now resurfacing. A cascade of what-ifs and maybes flooded his mind, reminding him of the dreams he had once harbored.  

Junhoe offered a fleeting smile, a fragile acknowledgment that your words touched a chord within him. But he remained guarded, his response veiled by the walls he had erected to secure himself from the agonizing truth he had long concealed.  

“You’re kind to say that.” Junhoe murmured softly, his gaze now meeting yours. His voice carried a weight of both resignation and yearning, a silent plea for understanding. It was a response that revealed the depth of his struggle, a battle between the echoes of his dreams and the reality he had come to accept.  

“I’m into writing poetry now, y/n. I’ve published a few books and it’s been therapeutic for me.” Junhoe revealed. “I guess, I’m still part of the music industry. I occasionally produce music for my fellow artists.”  

“That’s amazing Junhoe!” You responded, providing him with warm encouragement. “It’s incredible how you continue to explore and evolve as an artist. I wasn’t lucky to obtain a copy of your last book though, it got easily sold out!”  

Junhoe appreciated your attempt to inject a lighthearted laugh into the conversation, as a means to thaw the seriousness of it. But talking about himself had begun to tire him out, prompting him to steer the discussion to you.  

“Enough of me y/n, how have you been?” Junhoe asked. “Are you still friends with Hanbin and the other boys?”  

“Me? Oh, I’m also a writer like you, but it’s for a local lifestyle magazine.” You shared; your voice laced with enthusiasm as you seamlessly followed along with his transition of topic. “And yes, I’m still friends with the boys. Hanbin now teaches elementary school kids. Would you believe that?”  

“Wow! Really?” Junhoe’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.  

“Yeah. Yun works as a master chef at a fancy hotel in Seoul. As for Jiwon, he has his own family already. Him and Dong both resided in the US after graduation, but they live in different states. Dong has his own dance studio somewhere in LA.”  

A comfortable atmosphere began to envelop the two of you, and Junhoe felt his shoulders visibly relax as he listened to your stories about your childhood friends. It offered a refreshing change from his life in the spotlight. Engaging to hear every detail of their lives, he couldn’t help but recognize how much he missed them and how happy it made him that they were all doing so well through the years.  

Until a specific event sparked in Junhoe’s mind, inspiring him to extend an invitation to you. He saw this as an opportunity to keep the rekindled connection you both shared, a bond he was determined not to let fade away as he had done in the past.  

“Y/n, would you be interested in joining me for an art exhibit tomorrow night? Feel free to bring Hanbin and your other friends as well, if you like.” Junhoe asked you excitedly.  

A glint appeared in your eyes upon hearing the kind gesture. “I would love to Junhoe! That’s wonderful because I like art a lot.”  

“That’s great, y/n! I’ll text you the address.” Junhoe replied cheerfully, looking forward to seeing you again. 

[mademoiselle-red]

Top 5 beverages!

Turkish coffee, but as a pour over

A controversial opinion, I know, but hear me out: I find traditionally brewed Turkish coffee a little too strong and bitter for my tastes, but I absolutely love buying ground Turkish coffee (without cardamon, another controversial opinion, forgive me) from the Asian grocery store and making it into a pour over at home. The result is a much milder version that still retains the spicy flavors of the coffee, but with none of the bitterness, and it goes down very smoothly with a dash of milk. Plus, no coffee grounds at the bottom of the cup to deal with once you are done, since it’s all been filtered out!

Italian Hot Chocolate

Let me set the scene for you: it was an afternoon in late December, between Christmas and New Years. My traveling companion, an archaeologist, had enthusiastically dragged me away from the shopping district that I was quite happy to find myself in and set us out on a long trek to some obscure church so she could show me a mural that I “simply have to see”. We arrive at the old church and learn that the final entry of the day was 20 minutes ago. Deflated, cold, and hungry, we walked through the streets of Milan, heading back to the neighborhood our hotel was in to look for dinner. It was getting dark, and it started to rain. We turned a street corner and saw a dazzling sight: a beautiful cafe with a white storefront, lights glowing from its large windows illuminating the marble tables within. As we pushed in the heavy doors, we were greeted by the smell of hot chocolate, and the menu above the white marble counter confirmed our senses: this was a chocolate bar, offering a dozen different flavors of Italian hot chocolate. I ordered one with dark chocolate, hazelnut, and whipped cream. A few minutes later, it arrived on my table. It was heaven in a cup. A very small glass cup (only a third of the normal serving size typical here in America) in which one could see thick black-brown liquid chocolate, topped with rich whipped cream (a little over-whipped, on the buttery side, which is exactly how I like it), and crushed hazelnut drizzle. It was glorious. I bit into the whipped cream, sucked in the hot chocolate in one big slurp, felt the thick lava-like liquid roll down my throat, and relished in the warmth that spread as it passed through my chest. It was much more bitter than American hot chocolates, and richer in flavor, with a nutty almost caramel-like aftertaste. This was the first time in my life where I wished I could stick my tongue into a cup and lick the inside clean.

Hot Apple Cider with whipped cream and cinnamon

This one is a winter classic in Germany. I first had it in Berlin on a bright sunny day in a cafe attached to a beautiful cemetery that I’d scrolled through that morning. It was the first time I had whipped cream with apple cider, and it made the entire thing feel extremely indulgent and i think it helped bring out the natural sweet-sour taste of the apples, add in the cinnamon and you have liquid apple pie in a cup 🤤

Riesling

IT IS THE BEST WHITE WINE (although Retsina is a close second). And the brands that are usually available at my local store in the states suck 😭😭😭. A good Riesling should be slightly sour, slightly sweet (the bad ones are usually too sweet), and dry. Riesling is the perfect summer drink, good for picnics in the sun, or dinner out on the balcony, with seafood, arugula / rucola, and white asparagus (with ham and hollandaise sauce, of course)

Japanese-Style Whisky Highball

Ice, whisky, and soda water (and maybe a dash of lemon to change it up). It tastes fantastic. Perfect for every season. Easy to make at home, great to order in restaurants and bars. It’s especially great with yakiniku or any kind of barbecue / grilled meat dish. I also tried a Shochu version of this in a canned bottle from 7-11 in Japan.

[bike42]

Friday September 6, 2024

Camino Day Four - just under 46 miles in. We’re really enjoying it and finding our rhythm. Eat, hike, eat, rest, hike, eat, rest and hike some more.

Today was cooler, overcast in the beginning of the day with a little drizzle in the middle … we all got out our rain gear, but probably didn’t need it.

We walked boardwalks along the coast until Agucadoura, then headed inland. We walked past an agricultural area with many small fields and greenhouses, yet we were still walking on raised boardwalks! We had our morning break at an eclectic home with free will snacks and drinks, and messy grounds as it appears they allow camping!

From there we walked into Apulia, where the costal and literal routes merged resulting in many pilgrims - those on bicycles as well! We walked down to the beach for a lunch stop. I wasn’t hungry and the din of the cafe was messing with my mojo, so I sat outside and worked on my blog.

Up the coast again, the we turned inland to Fao to cross the Rio Cavado. We wandered through really old wonderful neighborhoods - amazing to think of all that could have occurred there over the last 300 years!!

Across the river, we were in Esposende where we stopped at a cool stop decorated for the Camino, with vending machines and a “souvenir” shop where San and Janet bought scallop shells, and I bought a bracelet and stickers.

We followed the arrows for the coastal Camino and they led us through a really cool plaza in town with restaurants and shopping. Jeff stopped in a Pharmacia and was able to buy batteries for his hearing aides there!

Three more miles to our destination, an apartment we’d rented in Marinhas. Nice walk there along coastal dunes, except for the bikes on the boardwalk!!

Our apartment is ok, not great. We’ve certainly stayed in worse!! We couldn’t get the stove working, so went we went to the nearby grocery store, we picked up soup that we could microwave and cheese & crackers, cookies, wine, beer and things for breakfast.

A low key night, watching some YouTube TV and relaxing. The place isn’t terrific, but it is good to have the gang together. Jeff and I got the double bed tonight, Sandra and Janet have the room with the single beds, and Matt’s taking the couch!

Tomorrow we head inland for a change of pace, destination: Viana do Castelo.

[travelingtheusa]

MICHIGAN

2024 Aug 17 (Sat) – We packed up and left Munising at 9:40 a.m.  There was a very thick fog in the area and it made driving slow.  After about 45 minutes, the fog cleared and the drive was better.  It drizzled on and off, raining heavily occasionally.  We arrived at Summer Breeze Campground in Iron Mountain at 11 a.m.  We went through a time change and are now here on central time.

      After set up, we took off for town to the WWII Glider Museum.  It turned out there are three venues all collocated – the glider museum, the Cornish Pumping Engine & Mine Museum, and a history museum.  We spoke with the manager about having a group tour next year.

      After the museum, we drove to the town of Vulcan to the Iron Mike Iron Mine.  We were given a name and number to call to arrange for a group tour.  When we were done, we found it was pouring outside so we spent a half hour wandering around the store and looking at the wide variety of minerals and gems.  Finally, it stopped raining, and we left.  We stopped at Walmart to pick up some groceries then returned to the campground. 

      The campground had an ice cream social scheduled for 7 p.m.  It started raining then and we waited until almost 7:30 before going over.  It was over.  The owner apologized profusely.  It was our fault.  We couldn’t be mad about it.

2024 Aug 16 (Fri) – We packed up and left Germfast at 11:30 after stopping at the dump station to empty our tanks.  It was raining pretty hard but it let up to a drizzle long enough for us to empty the tanks comfortably. 

      We arrived at the Munising Tourist Park in Christmas around 12:30 (it was only 47 miles to the new campground).  It’s a nice park but on grass with unpaved roads.  The rain this morning left a lot of puddles and mud to contend with.  Shortly after arrival, a fierce thunderstorm rolled through with loud cracks of lightning and pouring rain.

      When it let up, we drove into the town of Munising.  We checked out the Pictured Rocks Cruises and were told to wait until October before making the group reservation.  We stopped at Muldoons Famous Pasties (pronounced with a broad “a” like ah, not a sharp “a”).  It was OK but I don’t think this would become a favorite food.

      We stopped at a couple of campgrounds to gather information and returned to our campground.  We move on tomorrow.  More thunderstorms moved in this evening and poor Sheba spent the night cowering in the closet.

2024 Aug 15 (Thu) – We drove to Grand Marais today.  It was a cute but very small town on the lakeshore.  We walked the one block, and had lunch at The Breakwall.  We drove along the National Lakshore and stopped at the Log Drive overview.  It was a place along the sand dunes where loggers used slide the logs down to the water.  There was warning sign telling people that the slide down was only seconds long but the climb back up could be an hour.  There were people testing that out.  We believed the sign and did not test it.

2024 Aug 14 (Wed) – We continue to have a problem trying to find campgrounds.  Both for the caravan and for us as we travel around Michigan right now.  I called a couple of campgrounds and they were full.  Finally found some and made reservations. 

      The weather has turned cool.  We actually put the heat on yesterday morning and today.  At least the fireplace works.

      We packed up and took the 70-mile drive from Sault Ste. Marie to Big Cedar Campground in Germfask.  Way up north here it looks more and more like Alaska.  We can see the trees that look like they grow in permafrost and there are miles and miles of nothing.  The campground is one big circle.  The sites in the middle are pull throughs and the outer side are all back-ins.  It has a messy look to it and the sites are tight.

      Once set up, we took off for Newberry to check out their campground for the caravan.  The folks were very nice and accepted our request.  Then we drove to another campground and were turned away.  They would gladly make a reservation for June or September but they say they are booked solid for July and August.

      When driving down the road, Paul spotted an American Legion post.  We pulled in and spoke with the adjutant.  They are willing to put together a dinner for us next year.  On the way back to the campground, we stopped at a logging museum.  It was very interesting and even had a building devoted to the CCC.  Those young men transformed America.

      Finally, explorations done, we returned to our campground.  They have only one washer and two dryers (one of them out of order).  We did underwear and socks.

2024 Aug 13 (Tue) – We packed up and left Mackinaw City at 11 a.m.  We left late because today’s drive was only 50 miles.  We arrived at Soo Locks Campground in Sault Ste. Marie at 12:30 p.m.  After set up, we headed into town to check out various venues.  First stop was at the Soo Locks Tour Boat.  After gathering information about a group tour, we walked over to the office for the Valley Camp museum.  There is a combination ticket that can be bought or just to the ship.  There was a power plant next door and there was a group of people outside who looked like they were there to tour the plant.  Driving over, we got information to contact someone for a tour by our group next year.  Then it was lunch time, we walked to the Lockview Restaurant where we were going to have the group eat.  But it really does not have a good view of the locks, even though it is directly across the street from the Soo Locks.  Instead, we stopped in at the VFW Post and talked to the bar manager about having a lunch or dinner there.  She will have to bring the issue to the board.

      The town is a cute tourist town.  We walked up and down the sidewalk and bought some items.  We then drove to a liquor store to replenish our libations and a NAPA parts store for DEF for the truck.  And finally, it was a stop at the bank to get some cash.

      After we returned to the campground, we went into the office to meet with the manager, Laura.  We stayed here two years ago.  It was owned by the mother of the owner and she told us she accepted no email.  Everything was done by postal mail.  She died and the son now has the campground.  He and Laura are working on updating the policies at the campground, to include using email.  We locked in the campsites for next year’s caravan.

2024 Aug 12 (Mon) – We prepared to pull out this morning when we ran into a problem with the hitch.  Paul had to pull the connecting plate off and examine it.  With a hammer and a screwdriver, he delicately pinched here and banged there and got the plate back in shape.  He put it back on the truck and we were off at 10:30 a.m.  The drive was easy and we pulled into the Mackinaw Mill Creek Campground in Mackinaw City at 2 p.m.

      After set up, we went into Mackinaw City to check out the ferry service.  We went to Shepler’s Ferry Service and met with Amy, who I have been emailing with.  We introduced ourselves and confirmed the details of our visit there next year.

      Then we went to the Dixie Saloon for lunch.  We thought we were going to an Irish pub but it turned out not to be one.  Oh, well.  The meal was good anyway.

      On the way back to the campground, we stopped at the TeePee Campground.  This campground is very nice but expensive.  We were hoping to find a less expensive campground in the area but there are none.  TeePee turned us down for next year citing loyalty to their yearly campers.

2024 Aug 11 (Sun) – We packed up and left Ypsilanti at 9:30 a.m.  It was an easy drive to Standish where we are camped in the Saganing Eagles Landing RV Park. It is a casino and RV park.  We pulled into the campground, parked on the side, and walked about ½ mile to the hotel to check in.  After check in, we went to the Players Club and signed up for a card and got 2 free gifts.  We also had a bite to eat in the restaurant.  When done, we caught a shuttle back to the campground.

2024 Aug 10 (Sat) – We packed up and left Marshall at 10 a.m. and headed out for Ypsilanti.  The drive was short and we arrived at the Detroit/Ann Arbor KOA at 1 p.m.  This place is closer to Detroit than Camp Turkeyville but not nearly as nice.  It has a chaotic, crowded look to it.  There are lots of trees to maneuver around and blowing dust is annoying.

      As soon as we were set up, we drove to Wayne County Fairgrounds to see about having the group stay there.  As soon as I asked about group camping, the woman behind the desk immediately shook her head and declared they do not accept groups.  It is too much work and they are too busy.  I tried to argue the point but she wouldn’t budge.  We’ll try to talk to someone in administration, otherwise we’ll have to stay at the KOA.

      We then drove into Detroit to look at the Parade Company.  It is a company with over 60 parade floats in a warehouse.  Turned out the place was very difficult to find.  It was located in a run down, dilapidated part of town with several shuttered businesses.  It looked like somebody’s joke of putting a business in a closed warehouse.  We took this place off the list.

      On the way back to the KOA, we stopped at Kroger to get some groceries.

2024 Aug 9 (Fri) – We drove out to the Gilmore Car Museum.  They claim to be the largest car museum in North America.  It is located on 90 acres and comprises several outbuildings.  We met with the operations manager to discuss a group tour next year, as well as a catered lunch.  He pointed out they have a campground so we walked over to look at it.  It is a grass field with some electric hookups – 2 50-amp, 4 30-amp, and 8 15-amp.  That’s not enough for a group of 20 so some will have to live on generators for 2 nights.

      We then drove over to Air Zoo.  It is a Smithsonian affiliated museum with every kind of aircraft from earliest invention up to space craft.  We added it to the itinerary.

2024 Aug 8 (Thu) – We packed up and left the MORryde plant in Elkhart, IN, after running out at 5:45 a.m. for breakfast.  It was tough to find a place open so early, but we did it.  Then we returned to sit around the lunge and wait for our rigs to be done.  At 8:30 a.m., they were done and we were back on the road again.  Check-in at Camp Turkeyville was 3 p.m. and their website says they will charge an early arrival fee of $25.  We stopped along the way for lunch and tried to drag our feet, but still arrived at the campground in Marshall at 2 p.m.

       We talked to the campground manager about bringing our caravan there next year.  She wound up waiving the $25 fee, for which we were really grateful.  We will stay two nights.

       After set up, we drove to Fort Custer.  It turned out to be a bust so we will not have the caravan go to it.  We came home and had leftovers for dinner.

[chocolate-failure]

Bruh, what kinda demented shit is this?? Dig literally thinks I hate him because I didn't take a ride from him..

So let me explain cuz holyhell is this a wild thing to say given the circumstances.

So my car is old, like really old. Like I didn't need to do my emissions this year to register my car old. Of course that means maintenance for it can be difficult especially because there's a lot of condensation where I live and because of work it ends up sitting for months at a time. It's been acting up a whole mfkn lot lately, a lot of sputtering, ticks, and whining. So I take it to get fixed and it requires like $3,000+ in repairs but that's beside the point. My car is fucked up.

So I drive up there and ask dig to give me a ride back. I leave before him and accidentally leave my phone in the car when I get out. I'm talking to the dudes there and they're super helpful, one takes me a ride to show me the issues the car has with the sounds it's making and what those sounds mean. During this time dig arrives and I see him in the parking lot across the street. I talk to the dudes for another few minutes and met up with dig to go back home.

Dig's incredibly cold to me the entire ride which he initially says there's no issue. I have to apologize to him for him to tell me the truth because it's obvious he's upset and I don't know why. Ends up when he got there he saw that my car wasn't there and thought I had left which caused him to get upset and message me but of course because I left my phone in my car I didn't get the notif. By the time I got my phone I had noticed him and I was fairly certain he saw me since both me and my car are in his direct field of sight.

He was mad because I didn't respond to him, but I didn't know he sent me anything and I'm literally talking to other people and not thinking about checking my phone. He probably ended up waiting 15 minutes upon arrival so that's why I apologized, I felt like I had wasted his time and he made it very apparent that I had done just that. So I made my mind not to ask him for a ride when I go to get my car. I just got laid off and am not in a great mental space as far as stress management goes so I felt like I wouldn't reliably be able to keep him updated if he did end up giving me a ride.

Saturday I go to pick up my car. I'm having a pretty goddamn horrible day so far and I was really trying not to but fuckin christ.. idk I just wanna be dead. Dig isn't home when I get the call to pick up my phone and even if he was I wouldn't have asked him for a ride. I both didn't want to repeat the events from Friday and also had a terrible gym day so I wanted to get the exercise. The car place isn't far at all, maybe a 13 minute walk. It's drizzling a little but I'm used to it pouring rain everytime I go for a walk. Idk what that's about but it happens to me often. Probably 3 times a week last year I'd get rained on during my spring time walks/runs. I knew I shouldn't have cut through the grocery store parking lot but I really wanted to get back home quickly so I could throw up all the food I ate in the last 20 or so minutes before I left to get my car.

Dig intercepted me in the parking lot to give me a ride cuz I guess he was out grocery shopping and that's why he wasn't home. I'm listening to music and can't hear him so I just point to the car place and give him a thumbs up, say I'm good, and keep walking. The car place is literally a few hundred feet away. Like maybe just under 1000. I'm so close I can see it and I really didn't see the use in getting a ride especially because I wanted the exercise as well as not wanting a repeat of Friday. And that's✨ the message he sends me. I didn't see it til way later when I was in the tub and my stomach dropped so fuckin hard. I was a bit surprised at how much it affected me to have him say something so baseless, mean, and manipulative. I told him my feelings were hurt and that I ended up having to go back because my car was ✨still✨ fucked up. I was honestly so distraught because I spent a whole paycheck on my car and it needs even more work. I was also kinda glad I didn't get that ride because they had me wait again for over half an hour when I brought it back.

I've tried very hard to show my appreciation, share, and be vulnerable with him. Asking for help is one of those vulnerable experiences that makes me not want to trust others either because it will be used against me or become a reason why I owe someone something. He confirmed to me that asking for help in this situation was a mistake and that I am, in fact, a burden. And when I decline that help I'm a disdainful hateful partner who refuses help out of spite. I felt that I wouldn't be able to meet the conditions of the assistance he was offering and didn't want to be seen as more of a burden. Plot twist: I'm a fucking burden no matter what I do.

And like of course this experience sucked but it is both astounding and telling that my one time refusal of his help directly translates to disdain to him. That's really fucking worrying. Like one gesture can make him say something like that... He's never believed that I cared about him if something that small can entirely set him off. Not only does he not believe that I care he doesn't believe me when I say it.

He sent me money which is kinda his version of love bombing, no idea how much he sent, I kinda don't care. He might write me a note or buy me some shit I didn't ask for. Anything to make him feel like he's made up for the fucked up shit he's done so I can then become the inflexible ungrateful harpy I've always been for not graciously accepting his kindness. I'm too tired to fight anymore. I just want to be left alone.

[echo-s-land]

Dans ma ville on traîne/In my town, we hang out

In my town, we hang out, between the concrete [and], the plains

In the cobbled streets of the town center, where every stores close down

We spend week-ends in the industrial areas

Close to the suburban areas where all the houses are the same

My city is like the first girlfriend I’ve never had

I can’t leave her yet I spend my time spitting on her

Talking about the nice weather would be wrongly looking at the sky

I hate her as much as I love her, surely because we’re the same

We hung out in the streets

Tagged on walls

Skateboarded in parks

Slept in [town] squares

Threw up in bars

Danced in clubs

Smoked in squats

Sang in stadiums

We hung out in the streets

Tagged on walls

Skateboarded in parks

Slept in [town] squares

Threw up in bars

Danced in clubs

Smoked in squats

Sang in stadiums

I hung out so much in Caen streets

With a bottle from which everybody drank

Between two suspended worlds

Criminal, the way I killed time

I hung out so much in Caen streets

With a bottle from which everybody drank

Between two suspended worlds

Criminal, the way I killed time

I hung out so much in Caen streets

With a bottle from which everybody drank

Between two suspended worlds

Criminal, the way I killed time

After 10 pm you don’t run into people anymore

As if we were still under bombardments

You’ll only hear cops and the sound of wind

And some guys from university celebrating an after-match

Who shouldn’t get too near the edge

When they’ll end up in the port

In the few bars that still serve [people]

Where there are cigs and dead drunk English people

5 am, queue in kebab restaurants after leaving the club

You can take a pita [bread] or take a punch

Or you can take the first tram

And if you ever fell asleep, you’ll wake up on the edges of town

Where shopping centers are huge

Where we spent Saturdays with the family

Where I liked to stroll so much

Even when we had nothing to buy

Parents’ shopping cart slows down in front of Pizza Del Arte

Not far away from the toys store where I stole knights

Close to the bridge where my grandmother [used to] took me throw paper planes

Where you can see the big towers of the neighborhood

Where the architect believed they did a good thing

If I didn’t rap I wouldn’t have ever gone there

Because we don’t mix up so much from where I come from

Beyond that there are fields, there’s nothing

If you see smoke when you come back

It’s that in the factories not for away

People slog, people deteriorate, people make fuel for the machine

Next to straight pavilions

Where we think about what the neighbor think

Where we spend the Sundays with the family

Where we make fragile Whites

Go along the canal, take the beltway, you arrive in the room

Where you missed key lay-ups

Not far away from a remote place where girls prostitute themselves

In the middle of cranes where there are buses

That takes you to the sea in less than 20 minutes

Where Parisians thought us so useless

Where you can see England behind the mist

Walk by the hospital that is seen from everywhere

To remind us that we’ll all be taken away

And you’ll be back in town

Where middle-class people go grocery shopping and punks beg [for food]

Where there are hobos whose everybody knows the name of

I saw Gigi split his veins open with shards of glass

In front of the local shop, the one that is still open

Near the castle, its moats and its urban legends

I intended marriages, burials,

In mosques, churches and temples

Under a Norman drizzle

She can’t even fucking rain properly

My city to the hundred steeples

Every time they destroy a building

They erase a part of my past

[ourtriptoportugal]

North Conway - Day 3

Sunday - 10/15

Today was mostly sunny with occasional clouds and periods of overcast. In the early evening we had periods of drizzle. The last couple of days have reminded me how unpredictable New England’s weather can be, changing quickly. I have gotten used to California weather and forgot how the weather is very different here.

When we checked into our hotel on Thursday, the receptionist asked if we wanted to schedule a time at the water park. I didn’t know what she was talking about or how it made any sense given the forecasted highs of 50s for the week. After we finished breakfast this morning, we decided we were going to find out. Turns out our hotel has an indoor water park. I didn’t know there was such a thing and it is the first time I have ever stayed in a hotel that had one. Hopefully they won’t automatically add an additional a resort fee as a result! Needless to say, we won’t be taking advantage of this amenity.

We then went and checked out the Lands End outlet store and the REI store in North Conway. Then it was back to searching for old covered bridges and fall foliage. Here are some highlights from our travels this morning.

Later we went to the grocery store to buy food for lunch and went for a three mile walk on the North Conway Recreation Path. It is a relatively new paved path specifically designed for walkers and bikers.

After lunch we went to the New England Ski Museum. They had a great 10 minute movie that had film clips of skiing in New England in 1930s and beyond.

The picture on the left below is a car from the Skimobile. The Skimobile was a unique ski lift system developed exclusively for Mount Cranmore in New Hampshire, and the design was quite different from traditional ski lifts. Each Skimobile car traveled up a raised trestle, pulled by an underside traction cable. MaryEllen used to ride one of these when she was a kid and got a chance to relive her childhood memories.

The picture on the right below is a “Snurfer,” which is a type of snowboard. The Snurfer is considered one of the early predecessors to the modern snowboard. It’s a board designed for snow, and the user holds onto a rope attached to the front while riding down a snowy slope.

We also went to a craft fair and walked the main commercial area in North Conway. Here are a couple of more interesting pumpkin decorations we saw along the way.

By chance Rich and Debby, our friends from Moraga, along with Paula and Richard, former neighbors from Moraga now residing in New York, happened to plan their vacation in North Conway the same time as us. We’d prearranged to meet, and the six of us enjoyed dinner together at Vito Marcello’s Italian Bistro.

[girltomboy]

I ended up taking a walk in the park behind my apartment building, sitting on a bench near the woods in the light drizzling rain, and doodling in my tiny blue sketchbook until sunset. I took pics of the pink and orange sky, came home and made cornmeal, took a shower, and cooked sausage to eat with the cornmeal. I wanted to spend the evening on discord with my bf and the others, but our friend wasn't there, and we just watched cartoons until I got sleepy. I made plans for tomorrow and I'm excited to walk to the new grocery store in my neighborhood and look for pecan nuts. I've never had them before, and I'm looking forward to attempt to make pie!

[whereareroo]

DAY OF REST

WF UPDATE: DAY OFF in TRIACASTELA (7/8/23).

Because it’s a day off, I had the time to focus on some math. In particular, I was interested in the math related to the completion of our journey.

All along, I’ve been thinking that we had 15 total “walking days.” Well, I was wrong. I think my confusion was caused by the fact that we finish in Santiago on the 15th. Now that I’ve looked ahead to my final index card, I see that we only have 14 walking days. Thus, the math for today starts with the #14.

We all know that 14 divided by 2 is 7. We’ve now completed 8 days of walking. Thus, we’ve completed more than half of our walking days. We’re on the back end! For you real math freaks, we’ve actually completed 57% of our walking days. [(8 divided by 14) x 100]

When we started on Day 1, in Leon, we had 195 miles to Santiago. The distance to Santiago from Triacastela is only 85 miles. Thus, we’ve already covered 110 miles (195-85). That means that we’ve now covered 56% of the total distance [(110 divided by 195) x 100]

It’s a total coincidence that we’ve completed 56% of the distance over 57% of the time. The good news is that the most difficult days are behind us. The remaining 44% is easier.

Speaking of math, I’ve had a revelation about Walking Day #12- -which, coincidentally, occurs on July 12th. I’ve been slightly concerned about that day. My index card says the distance is 19.75 miles. It’s a long distance. For unique reasons, I had to plan that day from two different maps. Now that I’ve looked at both maps again, I think there is some overlap and the 19.75 is overstated. The actual distance might be a mile shorter. I’m feeling better about Day #12.

Overall, I’m feeling really good about the whole trip. Saint James is clearly watching over us. Today for instance, is our day off. It’s been drizzling all morning. It’s the first rain that we’ve seen. We can stay inside today, so we don’t care a bit. Thanks, Santiago.

Triacastela is a very old Pilgrim town with a long history. In the Middle Ages, Pilgrims headed towards Santiago would stay here after fighting their way through the mountains. Many of them would be in rough shape. The town was once home to multiple hospitals for Pilgrims. It was also home to three castles. That’s why it is called “Triacastela.” (Get it?) The castles are long gone.

There’s not much to see or do here. It’s a quiet place. The “Main Street” has six or eight places for Pilgrims to stay. All of them have a cafe. There is a grocery store and a bread store. During breaks in the rain, we toured the town. Otherwise, we stayed in our room and chilled. There’s a reason that God invented the Kindle and gave one to GC1.

On one of our walks, we bumped into Nick and Sally from England. They’re probably our closest Camino friends. They’re a nice couple in their 60s. After a morning walk in the rain, they got here today. Nick and GC1 amuse each other by telling offensive jokes about GC2. Every time they see each other, they share the new jokes that they’ve concocted during their solitary time on the trail. Is that how Pilgrims are supposed to spend their time? Would Saint James approve?

Speaking of Saint James, the Church in Triacastela is the most interesting building in town. It’s small. The original part was built in the late 1100s. Later, there were two or three small additions. The last addition was in the 1790s. It sits in the center of a small cemetery. Both the guidebook and the Church website said that there would be a Mass there at 6:00 p.m. tonight. Along with about eight other Pilgrims, we attempted to go. The Church was locked. At 6:10 p.m., we all called it quits. Maybe Saint James isn’t watching over us after all.

So, we’re back at it tomorrow. We hope that you got some rest today. We only have six days left. We hike for the first four days, have our final day off, and finish with two relatively easy days. We’re feeling strong. We hope that you’re strong too. We’ll see you out there.

[abrahamxwhitney]

Abraham had been getting some groceries in town, having not been able to get to the store for over a week now. The pantry was dwindling and he had gone through his last box of mac and cheese for lunch - forcing him out. Luckily, the day had been quiet enough for him to slip away before dusk but as he drove back, the sun was quick to set as rain began to drizzle over Kismet Harbor. Abraham turned down the street, almost to his home, when he caught a glimpse of a car as he coming down the street. He slowed, seeing hands waving out the window. Abraham pulled up behind the vehicle and got out. He lifted a hand to shield the rain from his face, walking up to the window. "How can I-" he leaned down, catching a glimpse of who was in the car. "Georgia Elliot?" Abraham felt like he was seeing a ghost at this point. @georgiaelliot

closed starter for @abrahamxwhitney location: a road in hawthorne hideaway

Despite the rain, Georgia couldn't help herself by rolling down the window the second she found herself driving along the coast. She always missed this whenever she was living anywhere else and now she was home. While it wasn't a good thing she was coming home with her mom being sick, she was finding the joy in the little things and breathing in that salty air was definitely a joy. All that came crashing down, though, as she entered Kismet Harbor and her car suddenly started slowing down before coming to a full stop. Her gaslight had come on a few miles back and she was sure that she had enough to get to town, which was true, just not further into town.

She sighed as she turned off the car and sat back in her seat as she started to check her phone, but she didn't have any service. She needed to change her provider now that she was back, but since she was just getting to down, it hasn't happened it. She had no idea what to do, but she saw a car approaching and she rolled down her window. "Hey!" She called out and started waving out the window to get their attention.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Sopapillas

Winter Prompts Masterlist | Winter Prompts List

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Reader

Prompts: Crunchy/ Honey/ Bake Sale

Warnings: Cursing

Notes: Sopapillas are a deep fried dessert! More info here if you're interested.

“What the hell is happening in here?” 

You hardly look away at the sound of Angel’s question, though your eyes do dart up from the mixing bowl for just a moment. 

“I promised Izzy I’d help with the bake sale,” You answer, scraping the wooden spoon around the edge of the bowl. 

“So you turned my kitchen into a bakery?” 

“Did you expect me to find a clean rock to bake the cookies on outside?” 

“Why didn’t you go to your place?” 

“My oven is broken.” 

“What? Since when?” 

“Since, like—I don’t know, it’s been a long time. And my little countertop one is too small for how much I need to make.” 

“So what the hell is your oven doing now?” 

“I use it to store some of my shoes.” 

“You what—”

“Oh calm down, they’re in, like, storage bags. They’re not just out in the open on the racks—Can you grab me the honey?” 

“What makes you think I have any?” 

“Remember when I got groceries for here?” 

“Uh-huh.” “I bought honey. It’s up there,” You wave back toward a cabinet, “But I can’t reach it, and you don’t have a step-stool because you’re freakishly tall.” 

“Why didn’t you just climb on the counter like you usually do?” 

“I had bowls and stuff out, it would’ve been a mess.” 

“More of a mess,” Angel mutters.

“You got reaaaal high standards for someone who sleeps in his jeans—Oh!” You gasp when Angel lands a slap on your ass as he sets the honey down on the counter. You reach back, swatting at his side. 

“Thank you,” You mutter. 

“So what are you making?” 

“Mm…Chocolate chip cookies are in the oven…I’m working on the batter for mini pasteles tres leches—Stop that,” You mutter, slapping at his hand as he dips his finger into your bowl. “I know your father raised you better than that. Never stick a finger into a woman’s batter uninvited.” 

“What’s the honey for?” 

“To drizzle on the sopapillas.” 

“Ooo, goin’ all out?” 

“Apparently Padrino requested them.” “Really?” 

“Mhm.” 

“They’re a favorite of his.” 

“Like, in general?” “No. He likes mine.” 

“When the hell has he had your sopapillas?” 

“From my oven’s previous life, when it was working—before it was a shoe rack.” 

“So why have I never had your sopapillas?”

“I refer you to my previous comment about my oven.” 

Angel grunts, brow furrowing a touch as he watches you. 

“...So am I getting cut in on any’a this," He waves his fingers over the bowls and baking trays, "Or is it all for the bake sale?” 

You smile. “Well I need a taste-tester, don’t I?” 

-- 

“Holy fuck,” Angel mumbles around his mouthful. You grin, glancing back at him as you tuck the last of the freshly washed dishes into the drying rack. 

“Holy fuck good, or like holy fuck you can’t serve these?”

“You can’t serve these.” 

“What?” You frown, turning to face Angel. 

“You can’t serve these,” He insists, taking up a chocolate chip cookie. “I’m eating all of ‘em—Hey, we got any milk?” 

Your concern melts to amusement, and you roll your eyes, reaching out and opening the fridge. You pour some into a mug before you walk over to where Angel is chowing down at the little table. You set it down, and before you can get far, he hooks his arm around your middle, drawing you down into his lap. 

“Take a load off,” He soothes, “You been busy cookin’ all day.” 

“I just wanna finish cleaning up. I’m all sweaty and I wanna put my apron in the laundry."

Angel grunts, dipping the corner of the cookie into the mug of milk and holding it up for you. You chuckle, ducking your head in and hurriedly taking a bite before it can drip or crumble. You sigh as you savor the flavor, settling back against Angel’s chest. 

“Mm, you’re right,” You mumble. “I’m good.”

Angel chuckles, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“So…Maybe we just keep the cookies?” 

“Nu-uh. This is your personal batch,” You wave to the plate with a few morsels on it. “Everything else is for the sale.” Angel grumbles, and you roll your eyes. “I’ll make you more later, alright? We need to restock the kitchen before I can.”

“...And you’ll make more sopasillas?” 

You snort, nodding at Angel’s nervously hedged question. 

“Yes, baby.”

"As many as I want?"

"Okay, let's not get carried away."  

Tag list: @amneris21 ; @elen-aranel ; @brandyllyn ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight