#this place is a nightmare I can't wait to go back to toronto

[kiseiakhun]

.

[jamgoesart]

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Reading sample

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Restless, Sierra began to twitch, toss and turn, until a few minutes later she woke up with a scream of "No. It took her a few seconds to realize that everything was okay. A nightmare. Again. The recurring nightmare.

Breathing heavily, Sierra sat up and looked around. Everything was fine, she was sitting in her car. Apparently, she had spent half the day there again. It was not uncommon for her to spend the night and the rest of the day in the car, even though she had her own apartment. She spent most of her time in the car anyway, because that's how she made a living. As a "blocker" or "stopper" or on courier runs.

"How long is this going to haunt me?" an exhausted Sierra ran her hands through her hair and then rubbed her face with her hands, "A year."

A damn year it had been. So she wouldn't get rid of it so fast, Sierra thought and shook her head. Very slowly she straightened up, stretched until she heard her neck crack, and just stared for a while through the windshield, where the sun was about to set. It was time to get back to her apartment. A nice hot shower and something to eat would do wonders sometimes, and not to forget to pack some new, fresh clothes.

"It's still a little early," Sierra answered the incoming call, turning up her ringer as she drove through the city, "What are you really up to?"

"Not today. We're meeting in Atlanta in four days. "In the background, Sierra heard a few people arguing, but not about what. "Man, I'm on it....sorry, Gen. What did you say?"

"I'm leaving," Sierra skipped the question and parked her car in the driveway, "Anything interesting?"

"No, not really," as if, Sierra thought, because Marko wouldn't call me for nothing, "Just get to Atlanta as soon as you can. Call me when you get there and I'll meet you in Centennial Park. Atlanta. Not Nashville, not Toronto. Atlanta."

"Got it," Sierra interrupted Marko and just hung up.

Back at the apartment, Sierra went straight to the bathroom, took a shower and packed a bag with new clothes. Then she went to the kitchen, grabbed a sandwich from the fridge and went back to the car. She hadn't eaten in two days, she realized now, and only now did she realize how hungry she really was. After opening the driver's door and falling into the seat, she took a bite of her sandwich, which was just about to expire, and looked down the street.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

"Barney Ross," an older man greeted his old friend as he walked up to him, "How long has it been?"

"Too long," Barney greeted his old friend Bonaparte, "How's life in Vegas?"

"It's nice here.... Don't distract me," Bonaparte smiled, "You came to Vegas to visit a friend for a reason. What can I do for you?"

"Same old thing," Barney replied, taking a swig from his beer bottle, "I'm looking for a team."

"A new team?", confused, Bonaparte looked at his long-time friend, for this was not Barney's style, "What happened to the old one?"

■

Suspiciously, Barney looked around, trying to figure out why Atlanta of all places. In the middle of the night, mind you. That 'we're meeting at a little after ten' didn't exactly make everything look right, but that wasn't the problem. Some of the things the Expendables did were beyond the law. After all, there were mercenaries for such tasks.

For now, no need to worry, just wait and see, Bonaparte told his friend as the two men walked down the street, stopping when a group of cars came into view. A possible candidate, but to Barney it was just a couple of kids with cars, causing Bonaparte to let out a chuckle.

"I hope this kid isn't a bust like the last one," but Bonaparte started to shake his head at Barney's words, "What else was he supposed to be? Ex-Navi?"

"Surely no one could have guessed that his resume wasn't entirely kosher," Bonaparte defended himself, pointing at the people gathered about twenty meters away from them, "You'll like my current candidate, and so will Christmas. But only if he can handle the competition, of course."

"He can't," Barney replied evenly, one corner of his mouth turned up, knowing his long-time competitor and friend very well, "What makes you think Christmas can?"

"Knives," was all the explanation that came from Bonaparte.

Three young men, in their early to mid-twenties, walked over from their cars to a blond boy and handed him a bundle each; the boys nodded at each other and a few words were exchanged.

"So," interjected a brunette girl who had slammed the car door and hurried across the street as if it were too late, "what's up?"

"Gen," the brunette was greeted by the blonde, and they both clenched their fists, "the usual. Two hundred meters off the main road."

An all clear followed, the brunette nodding in agreement as she walked back to her car, started the engine and drove off.

The rest of the small crowd began to cheer as eight people walked to their cars, got in, and drove to the makeshift starting line, which consisted of tape on the ground. Those who had been standing in the street cleared the way and the blond walked to the red line to give the starting signal. As he dropped the flag on the ground, the cars sped off, their engines roaring.

When Barney asked which of the people present they were both here for, Bonaparte simply took his little book out of his pocket, flipped through it, and then put it back in his pocket. No answer, great, Barney thought, and let it go for now. As the people ran forward and began to cheer, Bonaparte tapped his friend on the shoulder and motioned for him to follow.

Both men stood in the crowd to get a better look at who would return first. A dark green car was heading straight for the finish line; the distance to the others was a good car length, but Bonaparte pointed to the opposite side of the street where the brunette's matte black car came to a stop.

"La Santa," Bonaparte said, with Barney in tow, approaching the brunette who was just getting out of her car to join the group, "La Santa Muerte."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," the brown-haired woman replied coolly, only giving them a quick glance.

"Sierra Génesis Salamanca," was Bonaparte's reply, causing the brown-haired girl to stop, nod, and turn around with a panting, miss brave look, "Why not? Don Emiliano's little darling."

"What do you want?" replied Sierra, whose voice had become weaker than it had been a minute ago, "or much more from my father?"

To offer you a job. Not a deal, not a business deal, but a job, and for you. Not your father.

[cookingwithroxy]

I understand how you can see it that way, so I will be fair and state 'in some areas of Canada'. Namely in the area of Ontario. Where Toronto is. It's one of those things where one can easily conflate the two but I am going to be fair and state this.

HOWEVER.

It's still a valid statement that 1) Churches are being blocked IN CANADA, which is true. These things are happening in the nation of Canada.

2) That people are APPLAUDING This, because it's churches and they assume anyone who wants to go to a church is a covid denier.

and 3) That the churches are only one of a very blatant, very BLANKET, issue with Canada's authoritarian nightmare scenario.

That people are making a big deal out of churches does not mean they do not care about anything else, but that churches are a very big thing to those who care about them, and are a very easy thing to point to when talking about authoritarian overreach.

Oh and by the by? You posted the Toronto rules?

Toronto is also in utter lockdown. It is in the providence of Ontario after all.

Actually let me look up something. Because you know what?

I can't find out the status of any area OUTSIDE of Ontario. Where Toronto is, remember? The place you cited for standards?

So... I found Quebec, which is in partial lockdown. As is Manitoba. You know what, I'm not going to look up the rest of it, because we're back to 'Okay wait no Canada's under lockdown, at least most of the population centers are, what sections of Canada are NOT under lockdown right now?'

If you can find me a location (NOT TORONTO, BTW. TORONTO IS IN LOCKDOWN!) that's not under lockdown in Canada, I'll state publicly that THAT SECTION OF CANADA is not in lockdown.

Back to being snarky.

Pray for Christians in Canada who must now meet in secret. (Link to tweet)

Persecution is persecution, even if you use an “emergency” as an excuse.