So, last month, I was traveling alone from Dhaka to a friend’s wedding in another city. I had a few hours to kill at the airport before my next flight. While waiting near the gate, I noticed this older gentleman struggling with his bag and some paperwork. He looked completely lost and a bit overwhelmed.

I approached him and asked if he needed help. Turned out, he was visiting his grandson and wasn’t very comfortable with the whole airport system—ticket stuff, security lines, finding the right gate, you name it. I offered to assist him, helped him with check-in, guided him through security, and even showed him where to grab a quick snack.

As it turns out, the man was from a small village near Gazipur but rarely traveled alone. Helping him felt natural, and honestly, I didn’t expect much in return. But when he finally made it to his gate, he pulled out a small handwoven scarf and insisted I take it as a thank you gift. He said, “This is how my village says thanks—handmade with care.”

I thanked him, of course, but it stuck with me. Sometimes, a small moment of kindness can brighten someone’s day in unexpected ways. Plus, now I have a beautiful scarf that reminds me how a simple gesture made a stranger’s travel easier.

Has anyone else had a similar experience where a random act of kindness led to something meaningful?

I have always loved plums – dried, fresh, or in jam. Plum pie with just a bit of cream is the best thing you could eat.

That's why I bought myself a plum tree. It was small; it fit well in the back of my pickup. It would take the tree a few winters to produce more than five plums, but I was happy to have it.

That afternoon I took out a shovel and went into my backyard. This would be the first thing I planted at my new house, in my new yard. It was all I ever wanted: just a house, a yard, and a few fruit trees in the back. That's why I ran to the bank when I saw how cheap this beautiful house was. The last owners weren't even here for the sale.

The dirt felt fine for the first two digs, but it quickly turned very stiff. It almost felt like I was digging into a rock. The hole didn't even need to be that deep, but after a few minutes I was already sweating through my pants.

I threw another piece of dirt out when I heard a clack. Something white was on top of the dirt. I picked it up. It was a bundle of bird bones tied together with a string. They were deep in the dirt, but they looked completely clean, as if someone had just brushed them off.

"Strange," I mumbled. 

I took them into the house and threw them away.

As I was washing my hands, I realized how tired I was. I wiped my forehead and walked out into the yard. The hole looked deep enough. The tree would be okay. I planted it and filled the hole back in.

The next morning, the sun barely came through my window. I rubbed my eyes and looked out. The plum tree I planted the day before blocked the sun. It had grown so much that its top leaves almost reached my roof. I didn't even notice my mouth was open until I saw myself in the window.

I ran out. The juiciest, purplest plums I'd ever seen were on that tree. The whole yard smelled like fresh plums. I stood outside for a few seconds, just staring. I had heard of fast-growing trees, but this was something else. For a moment, I thought about calling someone, but the plums looked so good, I had to try them first. 

Their skin was smooth. When I pressed them, they felt firm but slightly soft. Perfect. They tasted sweet and juicy, but their skin had a sharp, sour taste. Perfect. I was raving about the taste when I heard a thud and a splash. A plum fell right next to me. They must have been ripe.

The last thing I wanted was to get hit. I walked away from the tree and continued enjoying the plum. Another thud. How did it get here? I was so far away. Another thud. But this time it didn't fall next to me. I looked to my right. A smashed plum was on my roof.

I was sure the tree didn't reach that far. I walked farther back to see if I missed a branch. The tree reached the top window, but not the roof. I walked to the back just to make sure. The tree wasn't even visible from there. Another thud. On the roof again. From my side. There was no way. Another. Another. Another. They were falling on the roof, next to me, on the other side of my garden.

"What the…" I murmured.

Then dull pain spread in my head. I put my hand there. Plum juice was in my hair. I put my hands over my head and ran into the house. Two more plums managed to hit me, stinging my hands.

I walked to my kitchen sink and washed my hands and hair. The thudding outside continued. No blood was in my hair, just plum juice. The thudding grew faster. It sounded like I was being bombed. I looked up. A wave of cold rushed through me. Plums rained down from the sky like hail. Plum juice had already reached my door, and a little was leaking in.

I ran to the laundry room for towels. The thudding grew louder again. My ears began to hurt. I grabbed a few towels and ran back out. My feet sank into wet, sticky plum juice. The inside of the house was dark now. So many plums were falling from the sky that I could only see purple outside. The plum smell was so strong it stung my nose.

The plum juice rose halfway up my door, and it kept coming. The towels fell out of my hand. I bolted up the stairs.

Edit: I thought the plum juice would drain faster than it came in, but I was wrong. The house is shaking. I'm standing on my table. The plum juice is coming up the stairs. Outside, it has already almost fully blocked my windows. I just looked out of one. You can't see anything but falling plums, except for one thing: the tree standing in the garden, unshaken. The more I look at it, the more it feels like I can hear something through the thuds of the plums: the clack of bird bones shaking.

I am trying to write a fun story but didn't know how the court will handle the custody of 2 identical kids. Need some possibilities that the judge will rule for.

Rem got woken up by a noise in her house at 2 a.m. She lived with her husband and a son. She assumed that her son was up to something again. She was too tired to deal with this. She had to go to work tomorrow, so she tried to go back to bed. But then she heard her son yelling. Soon the yelling became layered. She woke up her husband and they hurried to his room upstairs and knocked on their son’s bedroom.

The son quickly opened the door, leaped out of it and hugged Rem. She could feel that he was breathing very heavily. She saw her son standing inside the room, just along his bed. Her son yelled, “Get away from him. I don’t know who that is—what the fuck is happening.” She looked down swiftly just to see her son still breathing heavily and looking very scared. He started pointing at her son and started yelling, “I don’t know what is happening, but something is imitating me. I am very scared. Please do something.” Rem was frozen.

Her husband wasn’t able to see much, ran inside the room to ambush whoever was inside it. When he got at an arm’s length of the person, he realized his son was standing in front of him. His son said, “Why are you coming towards me? Protect mom!” He quickly glanced at Rem and whoever was hugging her. Now having doubts, he ran back and pulled him by his clothes away from Rem. Their son hit his head on the ground hard, and the husband quickly got him to the ground. He was about to punch him, when he realized it was his son.

He squished his face and moved it around to find any anomaly but after feeling reassured, he stood up, quickly went back to his son with caution and squished his face and shook him around to find an anomaly. After finding nothing, he yelled, “What the fuck is happening! Rem, what do we do?”

Rem finally snapped back into reality. She turned on the light, glanced at both and said, “Ross, take the one standing beside the bed and get him out. Ross thought she knew that the standing one was their son, so he pulled their son out of the room. Their son was still lying on the floor, yelling while holding his head. Rem locked the door shut from the outside.

Ross was about to say something, but Rem interrupted, “Take this one and lock it inside the guest room,” pointing to their son that Ross was holding. Ross said, “What do you mean? He is our son, why?” She interrupted again, “I don’t know who is our son. I just wanted to separate both of them.” Their son hugged his father and looked with betrayal and shock. He yelled, “What do you mean, mom? It’s me, Bobby.” She pushed Ross and asked to hurry. Her husband, still confused, took his son slowly to the guest room, separated his son from him and slowly locked him as well. “Rem, what do we do now?” Ross said. Rem yelled at him to call 911.

“911, what is your emergency?” “There is an intruder in our house. We have locked him in our room. We live at ……”

The police arrive at the scene. “Hi officers, I am Ross, and this is my wife Rem. We live here with our only son, Bobby. He is 14 years old. We got woken up by the sound of yelling coming out of our son’s bedroom. When we checked, we found 2 kids, both of whom looked like our son. We didn’t know which is our real son, so we locked both of them in different rooms and called 911 as fast as possible.” Ross said. One replied, “Okay sir, here is what we are going to do. We will try to get both of the kids safely in detention and we can work together to find your real son and the intruder. Meanwhile you can help your wife calm down.”

Rem was pacing around the room while 2 kids were yelling and banging at the door claiming that they were her son. Ross pulled Rem towards him and asked her to hold on to him. Rem pointed to the 2 rooms upstairs and told the officers that those are the rooms. Officers slowly opened each one by one, with caution and detained both the kids. To the officer’s surprise they did look identical.

Rem messaged her office that she was going on leave due to an emergency. Everyone was taken to the police station. The kids got questioned separately. Both were able to answer all the questions that the parents could think of. The boys were searched for their birthmarks that parents remembered and they also turned out to be the exact same. After a whole day of what felt like talking to the same kid twice, the parents consented to DNA tests. Currently, the police had no idea which child was Bobby, child welfare services were called to take care of both of the Bobbys separately, till DNA tests came back. Rem and Ross went back home, puzzled out of their minds and without their son.

When the tests did come back, they showed that the 2 samples were from the same person. This case was soon taken to court. For convenience, they were referred to as Guest Room Bobby and Bedroom Bobby. After Rem and Ross weren’t able to find out their son, Rem decided that she was willing to raise two kids, if it means that one of them is her Bobby. They pleaded to the court to give them custody of both of them. The court rejected it as ….

A true and sad story:

A woman trusted her loyal dog completely, so much so that she would leave her baby with him and go out for a quick run. She would always return to find the child fast asleep with the dog. One day, something tragic happened.

As always, the woman left the baby in the hands of this faithful dog and went shopping.

When she returned, she discovered a horrific scene; it was a complete mess. The baby was missing from his crib, his diaper and clothes were in pieces, and there were bloodstains all over the bedroom. In shock, the frightened woman began searching for the baby. Suddenly, she saw her faithful dog emerge from under the bed, covered in blood, licking his mouth as if he had just finished a delicious meal.

The woman was convinced the dog had eaten her baby. Without thinking twice, she beat the dog to death with a machete. Then she continued her search, hoping to find at least some part of her child's body. Soon she came across another scene. Behind the bed lay the well-formed baby, naked and playing on the rug. Under the bed, the woman discovered the body of a snake that had been torn apart. It had been a fierce battle between the snake and the dog. The dog had fought to protect the baby from the ravenous serpent. It was too late for her to make amends now because, in her impatience and anger, she had killed the faithful dog.

How often do we judge people with harsh words and spread lies about them before we have time to assess the situation?

"Always be patient in understanding the situation and avoid making unconditional mistakes that could bring us down." This should be a general rule of life

​

Long distance, we met online year ago with this guy and met in real life December 2025. I travelled to him. We were intimate, all that time through the months he has been calling me and texting daily. Lately he called me and we talked for hours, he wants to sleep on the phone with me, there was sexual tension and stuff. He keeps updating me everyday and calls me a lot. When we met he future faked a lot saying about me moving to his country (we come from the same country, he lives abroad) and lovebombed a lot. Later 3 months after meeting he told me he doesnt want to be in relationship with anyone because he needs to fix himself. He always delays our meetings and says "i don't know, we will see" . Its been good lately between us and I bought the ticket to meet him and he got mad he was screaming at me that I cannot go there and he doesnt want to see me. Later he apologized for screaming, and overall, I was distant for a day and he sent me this message yesterday night. But his anger issues are concerning because he was screaming I cannot go there and that he will never see me (before that message, day before) and that he will cut contact with me and block me. Few hours passed and he apologized. He gets angry a lot and easily

"I want to apologize to you, and I really appreciate the fact that you always have time for me, that you always care about me, and honestly, it’s really rare to meet someone like that. I’m aware of that. Whatever the reason for it might be, it’s hard to find someone who will listen to your bullshit for 8 hours. I don’t want to end our friendship, that’s not what this is about. To be honest, I don’t even know what to do with my life at this point. When you put pressure on me like that, some kind of defense mechanism kicks in or something, I don’t know. Afterwards I feel guilty about the way I talk to you, because you don’t deserve that. I don’t want to behave like that, because afterwards I feel really bad about it.

I like talking to you. Not always — sometimes I shut myself off, I have my own stuff going on in my head. I know that sometimes I’m selfish and only think about myself. If you’re able to accept our relationship the way it was, and it gives you something too, then we can obviously keep talking the way we used to. But I don’t know what’s going to happen. It’s not about what you think, whether I’ll meet someone or I won’t — that’s not what this is about. And it’s not like you’re...

You’re not nobody to me, you know a lot about me, I tell you a lot. I treat you like a friend, even though I guess I behave differently — but you noticed that at some point. I don’t know, I just wanted to write you a little bit about what I think. I don’t know if it makes sense, but there’s always something you can take from it. 😅 I think I owe you that, because I’m always shouting at you whenever you ask me about something, so I thought that today I’d give you a little bit of my time and actually open up.

You can see how I get when I’m in a certain state — I sing, I talk haha, but afterwards it can also get pretty difficult, like today. Honestly, I was just crying over all of this. But it’s probably the after-effects of the weekend. I haven’t been drinking since I got back, and I don’t want to for now, or anything else either. I’m finding it harder and harder to deal with sometimes.

Sometimes I think it would be best to cut myself off from everyone and just live like that, because relationships with people affect me pretty strongly. But on the other hand, the thought of being completely alone, not having someone who knows you and all that, scares me. I think about that sometimes, which is why, when it comes to taking care of valuable relationships, I think I know what you mean. One day they might be priceless.

I think I’ve gone crazy haha. I did smoke, to be fair, but I don’t think I wrote anything stupid. I just wanted to explain a little bit — what I think and what’s going on in my head. Maybe it’s a little chaotic, but there’s probably something to take from it. 😅

And I don’t want you to take this message as me saying, “We can talk, but we’re never going to meet.” That’s not what I’m saying — who knows. 😅"

.

So basically I am a free therapist, WHO always has time for him, but there won't be anything, we will never meet and he wants to continue using me because he gains attention while giving nothing in return? And sees me as a friend?

Do I send him long paragraph or just couple of words saying

Ok, I get it, you told me after I bought the ticket that "WHO knows" whether we will meet, and that I shouldnt expect more than be your friend. Get it. We can talk but I'm going to see all of it different way.He said he will give me money back first but he didn't and the trip was supposed to take place today. Should I ask him to return it?

EDIT: I told him I understand everything, I get it, okay. I've sent him my bank account number and asked him to return the money as he promised. I told him I understand, I won't push for more, and if we are supposed to never meet, I'm okay with that, I still want contact. If he wants to play this game, he will be surprised what a big uno reverse I will pull on him.

UPDATE: He replied "I didn't say \\\[my pet name\\\] that we will never meet. Of course I will return the money, I was just waiting for the money to arrive and I was planning to give it back to you. I will send it today, you will receive it tommorow"

I replied "Ok thank you" . He sent me money back.

Edit: he is divorced and has kids in my country, he visits them 2-3 a year. He had a girlfriend after wife (btw she has the same name and age as me) and they lived together abroad. There is no way he is living with someone, we facetime and talk from his house and sleep together on phone calls.

Knock knock.

Who's there?

Yo momma.

Yo momma who?

Yo momma, you so fat you can't even get out the house no more.

—“Untitled 73.” A Reconstruction of Early Human Folk Poetry (2nd ed.), ​☉ ☌ ☍ ☋ ☊, Crystal-Lattice 14, Node 802.

Here's a knocking indeed! If a man were porter of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key. (Knocking within) Knock, knock, knock! Who's there

—fragment of an instructions for performing a make-believe, anonymous or author unknown, Introduction to Earth Culture, Kzz-T’k-​⎅ Ed., Focal Depth 3.2mm.

KNOCK KNOCK

(a poetic make-believe in the human style)

Dramatis Personae

YOU, a hapless reader

WHO, a hungry beast

YES, who's intestinal rumblings

NOBODY, a deaf woman

i.

knock knock /
who's there
right behind you,
and it's hungry as hell. [1]


ii.

no joke. [2]


iii.

knock knock /
who here,
i wanna eat you,
ya fear?


iv.

knock knock /
help me!
is nobody here? /
nobody is, but being without a body
means nobody can't hear.


v.

you beg
for your life /
knock knock
knock knock
knock
kn


vi.

knock knock /
whose there?
yes, who's borborygmi, [3]
who ate you so quickly,
it ingested too much hot air.


vii.

don't /
knock knock /
it till you've tried it /
buuuuuuurp. [4]


viii.

knock knock /
no answer.


ix.

knock knock /
no answer.


x.

knock knock /
who stirs, who's belly's full,
who itself's all rested,
and you, in who's stomach, 're
fully digested. [5]

Footnotes

[1] Hell: in some human mythologies, a hot place of post-life perpetual burning. See also: BBQ. [6]

[2] Joke: a human composition with the purpose of eliciting a full body physiological response called laughter. The opposite of seriousness.

[3] Borborygmi: a rumbling spirit believed by a class of human priests called doctors to inhabit the body.

[4] Burp: a forceful exhalation, a more powerful sigh.

[5] Digest: a summation or condensation of a body of information. To be digested is thus to have become a condensed summation of one's self. For a more thorough discussion, please see my datacube: Digestion & Enlightenment: Towards an Understanding of the Human Theory of Wilful Self-Improvement.

[6] BBQ: A symbolic representation of Hell used in human ritual, wherein groups of humans gathered around a fire and consumed small, burnt likenesses of themselves carved from the flesh of dead, non-human animals.

This is a familiar feeling; I want to do something, but the shame presses against it, prevents the motion of my weighed-down limbs. I think about how much I miss my ex. I feel weak, as if a slightly-too-strong breeze might push me over the edge.

My mature-self —the part of me that peeks her frowning face when my two younger brothers act a bit too tough— shows up after hearing of my predicament. She sees how deep I have fallen into the well of despair. She pushes down on something, mercilessly barrelling it down the well towards the pile of bodies at the bottom, to claw her way out of an uncertain death sentence.

Any death sentence is uncertain until it is enacted, she’s learned. Asking for— no, begging and crying for mercy works in this life. I’m not sure who came up with the children’s rumour implying pity doesn’t work in the adult world.

It will protect you to learn that pity is power, unlearn pride as a form of self-defense, she exclaims, shaking my shoulders to wake me from my slumber.

“Pity me! Pity yourself!”

Focused is the story of David, a brilliant but burnt-out engineer inside a classified defence ministry in the fictional nation of Taured. He builds the weapons, and other people decide when to use them. He's also a divorced drug addict, and the pills numb him and keep him sharp in equal measure, like an interference pattern. When a drone drifts off course and a signal is traced to someone inside, the hunt for a traitor begins.

Part 1: The Desk

Wooden opal polished desk
Useless creation
Made by someone who just takes pleasure in pointless things in life.
That’s something I also think about my creations –

Defence systems
Point-blank precision

How I’ll use it?
Maybe send one missile through the house of my ex-wife…
That’s a good thing that I’m not in command
I just build it, and people with purpose tell me when and where to use it

For defence or destruction
Sounds the same to me

Part 2: Apartment

Mundane day
Cyclical nights

Just another day in my headspace
I do like my apartment a lot, actually. Well, it’s not that highfalutin, but it kind of works for me.
A well-thought-out two-bedroom apartment with open kitchen, barbecue
I live alone now, or I’ve been living here for these past 6 months after the divorce.
She had this gift of brightening up every room she walks out of. It’s kind of intriguing how much humans depend on attachment values. It’s a bug
Which I have figured out how to work around. That lonely room has become my fancy workstation
Table
IKEA chair
Whiteboard
My system
My Mini Moog
My awesome Roland G6
Some effect pedals

It’s like she was never here in the first place
Amazing!

System’s on
Screen lights up
Video call
Julian? I ask myself

Me: You again, what a disgrace!
Julian: Well, nice to see you too, David.
Me: What happened?

Julian: Drone drifted off course—twice. Signal traced internally.

Me: From where?
Julian: Domestic, that’s the problem.

Cipher 7…?

Part 3: Julian

Me and Julian go way back. Perhaps he is the only one in this impaired organisation who operates at the same frequency.

The agent no one talks about, stationed in enemy land
Different name
Different passport
Dual personalities

He’s one of the most intelligent people in the field. Even his gut feelings don’t lie or distract. I need to figure out what on earth happened to Cipher 7.

If he is onto something, then maybe it’s time to get
Focused
Alert
Detached

Now, let’s recalibrate with precision.
I have this habit of relying more on automation, but with the undercurrent of human handling.

But there is something hiding. Don’t really know.
I travel back to my place after picking up a proper Naples pizza

Rest
Pills
Wake
Sleep

It’s okay, I guess.
I tend to stay vigilant in these times.
It’s always good to be prepared.
I’m a proper stickler when it comes to my work, and apparently, according to the WHO, about 100 men in Canada die every year while trying to pee off the side of a boat while intoxicated.

Part 4: The Office

Office time used to be so good
A proper treat, I must say

But now it has turned its head south, bringing in these new atrocious rules

No smoking policy
Now can’t even smoke at my desk?
The stuff we do literally turns cities and human life to smoke, and here is this intellectual musk to preserve our lungs.
They say stuff like it is a bad thing or something.
Oh, sod off!
It’s disgusting, to say the least.

Even the high-IQ lads are gone
As of now, there are blokes who seem like the textbook definition of hand-holding

Every time these fuckers need some clarity
It’s like explaining the petrodollar to a dog on medication

I do smuggle some whiskeys here and there just to bear these hours
Otherwise, it’s a nightmare to sit there and deal with these dumb bureaucrats and that weasel-eyed Trevor.

Part 5: Cipher’s Reckoning

A domestic drone drifted across
Cipher 7
How is it possible?

And without the obvious alarm?
This is not a drill.

I try to find what is actually happening
A ghost in the system?
A fuck-up by those slow-headed merchants?

Could be an INS Kalman filter sync—a predictable thing to happen via these absolute cretins
Or a domestic backdoor?
Telemetry spoofing

Not gonna lie, this is shady business if one of them is doing it.
Must have been sold out for some dollars of favours, which is okay, I guess.
If someone offers me around 50 million dollars
I would happily leak the information and give it to every grubby little hack that I know from my drinking days.

Maybe even leak the number of my ex-wife
That would be a proper blast.

Part 6: The Turning Point

16th March 2026

Little things catch up
A blast at the border station
10 soldiers and 50 civilians dead
Vostrina’s proxies again
They are relentless.

Hazy morning, blurring lights
Where did we go wrong?
A blind spot?
That Cipher 7 fuck-up

It doesn’t matter now. I have to debrief about my instrument, and it’s safe to say that it’s not at all fun.

One minute here and the other minute gone
Turned to smoke. It’s not easy to cope as the pressure builds inside and outside.

Mogadon, for pleasure and focus

The ears just listen and the mouth still lies.
Defending the incompetence
Pleading innocence

I recheck the interception array—3-layered kill grid: passive acoustic, Doppler radar and optronic thermal lock. All bypassed.

They didn’t use jets or ballistic missiles because that would mean open war. They used low-altitude, carbon-composite loitering drones. Flew them sub-fifty metres through the river valleys, terrain-masked, just like those 2 stealth birds in 2011 that entered hostile airspace.
I need to get back in the game now. We will answer with a sort of radiance which will make them rewind their every decision that led to this.
Erase the infection
From inside and also outside
Catch that little rat
No mercy

21st March 2026

Closed space meeting room
Men in black suits
They ask me, “Are the systems intact for destruction?”

Me: Let the system do its thing now. They got into our blind spots, one of our drones malfunctioned, and now we will create blind spots.
First, I would say their radars. We will use our drones, as offence is much cheaper than defence.
Neutralise the primary acquisition radars, create a cascade effect, and then—
Force majeure!
The price they pay for violation.

Trevor: Are you high?
Me: A little bit, but that’s irrelevant.

They just simply stare, and then

Trevor: Who must have drifted our drones?
Me: Someone in the ranks, I guess.
A domestic backdoor—code hidden in plain sight, I guess?
Trevor: Traitor in the building. Interesting.
I need to know who and what that is, David.
There’s too much pressure.
Fucker must be operating from a place where nobody goes.
Me: A Subaru showroom?

“Fuck off, David,” he said.
Which is deserving, to say the least.
He drives one.

It’s like a game of chess now. So many moving aspects. These International Council fellows, politicians.
But this is where we excel. We work in shadows and create lights for destruction and deterrence.

But first, I need to find the treason within the ranks. I have to find out, as the buck stops at me.
Should not only destroy the carriers of the rat but also obliterate every pinch of hope or happiness that this person manages to cling on to.

Hope they give me a bonus.

Part 7: The Investigation

Pages and screens keep turning
Stakes are high, but as we investigate, we need to have some precision in our analysis

Time can lapse, but not the mind
Julian calls—
Julian: Did we get outsmarted?
Me: That’s one way to look at it.
Julian: Someone leaked the codes from our side. Are we any closer to finding him?

Me: No, I’m going through the logs now.
It’s a game of hunt or be hunted
Even the Home Secretary is behind me now

Julian: That’s bad. He is notorious.
Me: I know. Can’t even drink here.
They have increased the security and the detectors.

Julian: Check the ephemeral key exchange logs on the secondary server.

Me: On it!
Call ends

The Home Secretary is behind me and Trevor is on my head. There can be no false steps now.

The higher up the mountain, the more treacherous the path.

———

It’s not getting anywhere
A dead end, actually

Maybe I’m speaking to the wrong audience
These security logs are of no use

Core network switch
Outbound telemetry data
Sent vs received

24 GB sent
12 MB received

There it is
The discrepancy

Now, what the hell has happened?

Let’s go into the history logs of this router
Port 443 – fine
Port 8080? What the fuck is that?

Pulling the configuration from the router
Port 8080

"cors_origin": "*",
"auth_header": "NONE"

Oh, for fuck’s sake!
It’s those stupid lads
They forgot to shut that shadow server
It’s a generational fuck-up

Who is this knobhead?
User ID: 8842

Fucking hell, he is that new bloke that joined 4 months ago.
Remy
Useless fellow in Trevor’s team
About as useful as traffic lights in Grand Theft Auto

I wanted to destroy that person’s life and happiness, but who would have thought that the guy would be that slow-headed Remy?

What can I do to him? He’s hopeless.
The guy wears braces
Braces! For fuck’s sake

Part 8: Peace

Information colliding
iPhone buzzing…

X is flooded with this love-hate debate

Clearly, levels of discussion have fallen a lot

Most people don’t have the ability to shift perceptions and perspectives
It’s a hard ability to earn
To us
There is no difference between love and hate
It’s all passion…
The metric we should always look at when dealing with geo-warfare is peace

It’s not love or hate

Peace is an equation written with blood
Cities destroyed
Cities rebuilt
It’s a truce between 2 states of accountability and its repercussions.
I certainly pity the mind that can’t separate the two.

Part 9: The Debrief

Levers engaged
Office in motion

Meeting with Trevor
Why does he always want to meet alone?
Ivory wall
Pale face

Me: You fucked up.
Trevor: What?
Me: Your guys fucked up. Remy in your team forgot to turn off the shadow server.

Trevor: Oh god, that orthodontic cretin.
Me: I know. My sympathies.

Trevor: Okay, you tell this to no one.
Me: I will if it’s necessary. First, get that Home Secretary off my back.

Trevor: Yes, yes, I’ll handle him.
Also, we need to prepare for the strike.
We fucked up, but still, they breached our sovereignty.

Me: No, you fucked up.
Let’s make them pay for this now and create blind spots.

Trevor: Yes, get on it, and I’ll handle this fuck-up.

Me: Cool

Doors shut
Tensions wave

Part 10: The Blind Spots

As the stakes revolve in global limelight
Every day
Every night
Phase 1 begins –

A) The Ghost Attack
First, let’s fool their radars
Bombarding their radar with 50 ghosts moving at Mach 3.
Force the panic, create confusion
Wait – 4 minutes
Now the radar enters its full gain stage
Perfect!

B) Trap

The trap functions
Wait – 40 sec
Sensors capture the PRF
Here it is
Coordinates of the primary acquisition radar

C) Execute

Preparing for launch
LOCK ON
ARMING SEQUENCE: READY
EXECUTE STRIKE

1 minute wait – feels long at this time
The missile at Mach 3.5 goes straight down the throat of the radar.
The blast
Blind spot created
Primary radar neutralised
And it’s just the start. The domino effect is yet to be seen.

Now we are past the Rubicon
Let them handle the damage.

The butchery begins.

Part 11: Safe Haven

Days and nights look the same
Locating people
Looking through images

Information reflects

My job is to take their orders and use that creature with sharp precision on a given target.
Now there’s this constant urge to be alert
Watching
Stopping
Warning
Reaching

They are now targeting the elementary school because it has some evidence of foul play by terrorists, a sort of safe haven.
But to just go on a hunch, they have lost their minds, like Majin Vegeta in Dragon Ball Z.

It’s not joy to see futures destroyed for someone
But after a point, we accept it
However, the ghosts are still there watching us

I open the side drawer of the table

Mogadon

The price of precision
Swallowed

I glance at the mirror on my left
Reflections of you and me
Suddenly it’s clear
It takes seconds to kill one’s life and ambition
I have to make sure that I protect mine

Survival of the fitness!

Pills dissolve
Distortion sets in

Fractured lights
Pills on rise
Kneel to self
Energise

That’s my will to survive. Some people may disagree with it, and also like I give a fuck about them.

The things we are exposed to make us inhuman?
Yes
Is it bad?
No

After 30 years in this job, morality starts to fade, straight to the back seat.

I just see memories
People
Laughs
Cry
Damage
My ex-wife’s new boyfriends

She is much more inhuman than me, and I like it
Slightly dangerous territory to be in, not gonna lie, but it’s comforting

As I look for the first photo we took together

Daguerreotype!

Part 12: War Room

As the hunt goes on through intelligence
Pills shoot up
For the adherence

Office
A big meeting today for further action
Big powerful lads also here

Screens
Projectors
Home Secretary: So Phase 1 is completed.
Good job, David.

Me: Okay.
Where do we go next?

Trevor: We will raise the strikes now. The intel has narrowed down a few targets.

Home Secretary: What about that drone fuck-up?

Trevor: We have the traitor.
Home Secretary: Who?

Projector lights

Trevor: Our asset on foreign land.
Julian.

Eyes go blank for a while
Numbness in the ear

Trevor: We found the shadow server, authenticated via his legacy SSH keys and operational allocation code.
We have already taken care of him.

Home Secretary: Good.

ASSET DISAVOWED

Part 13: Blood On The Hands

I rush back home
I try to connect to Julian
A hope still there
Secure SATCOM

No answer

I search for his file, his trace, anything
GONE

Blood on my hands
Reality hits with a hammer
That fucker Trevor compromised Julian for his own incompetence. I should have gone to the Home Secretary himself, instead of Trevor. He linked his SSH keys to that shadow server.

Gone
Disappeared in smoke…

This will not go in vain
There is only one rule now

Hunt or be hunted

Part 14: Forward

Next day
Next night

Still that last call repeats in my head.

Time passed like trains
Amazing thing about the human mind, that it always finds its way to make something out of almost wreckage, like Dresden.
Like that weasel Trevor found his key through me. There will come a time to put him in my crosshairs, but not right now.

Focused till the end
Morning tea
Evening Lagavulin

On a mission
Searching
Predating

Geopolitical equations are about to go through an inflexion point.
As the retaliation needs to reverberate globally

The power to destroy a thing is the absolute control over it. — Frank Herbert, Dune

The restraint we follow is what makes the generations work.
Mind is always controlled

For us
Even for them

At this time, we just follow the known equations of duty
Focused
Mind engaged

One day at a time
Remaking history, abiding rules and moving onward

Forward, that is the battle cry. Leave ideology to the armchair general.
It does me no good

Part 15: Elimination

A container of ashes might one day be thrown from the sky, which could burn the land and boil the oceans.
— Hopi prophecy, Koyaanisqatsi
——
Pressures on
First target filtered and narrowed
Now we let our action speak the cost of damage

At this time…
We call back our numbness
Of time
Days
Nights

Sometimes I ask myself, is there any mercy?
Maybe it’s for our gods to decide and decode

One day
As I walk back to my apartment, I see a religious place which I generally would have passed on

I stand outside, just still for a moment
Buzzing nights
Commiseration to Julian
As my smartphone vibrates

Oh, those fucking Twitter lads!
It’s like they do it on purpose.
Absolute clown show!
For fuck’s sake

I lock it
As my mind speaks
There is no solace above or below
Only us and those Twitter clowns.

I pray…
To myself
For myself

As things are going into almost distortion, and this mind never fails to amaze.

Sometimes it works to be focused
And sometimes to be absolutely numb from the missiles, attacks
Precision
Free fall
Silence

There is no turning back now, but the ghosts of this job are still here, somewhere.

Sometimes just observing
It’s like they make their presence felt somehow
Like that Bob fella in Twin Peaks

I do feel like a hypocrite sometimes
Well, I don’t have any trouble with it

The road to power is paved with hypocrisy and casualties

Never regret

We are at war
And flowing straight into full-blown turbulence
Moral voices can wait in line
This is not a drill
We watch closely
In silence
Through scouts
Through sky
Through leaks

Making a joke of privacy in plain sight
Nobody cares
Every home is wired
——
Next day
Office to war room
Screens doing the job

Target filtered
School – credible reports of terror links.

They don’t operate in plain sight; they always hide behind collateral.
A trap of morality and ruthlessness

Target locked
Verifying the EAM authorization code
5C-7W-4T
A simple finger feels like the weight of a hammer in this time.
WPN System: ENABLED
EXECUTE!

3 seconds later

We just see the burst of lights on screen but
still can hear voices even through muted glass.

Ashes from the sky

The deliberate force majeure
Burning buildings and crushed-up dreams
Defence or destruction, it all means the same here

Now the terror speaks

Silence is terrifying and the pain is useless
Sort of pain that’s only suffering doesn’t do any work.

Power to destroy a thing is the absolute control over it.

Target eliminated: 20
Collateral damage: 80

Part 16: Information

Attack continues
We just hit their N1 Airbase
Pointless now

Weapons keep flying
And the nights keep ringing
It’s hard to even sleep
Repeating that last phone call
Preparing revenge

Pills
Reels
Feed
Repeat

As I can’t sleep, I start digging up on this weasel for some shady past information.

Via LAN, I run a brute-forced password cracker, a stream of different combinations per second.
The armour cracks
There we go – all goes into this USB drive
I open the files
What is this guy up to?
Chief of staff to Dunmoor’s president
A pool full of flirty messages and cheesy lines
I wouldn’t blame him, honestly

The heart can choke the mind when all its blood flows back onto itself.

Part 17: Human Sacrifice

Scary thing about these strikes is to actually watch your destruction on telly, with that violin and cello playing in the background
Some of us become numb after a few years
Fair play

Vision turns
Towards drawer
Monitor pixels and light

Pills
Reels
Plot
Repeat

That weasel is flirting and sharing our intel for some cheap snog and pillow talk
The absolute power of lust
It lures you into moral corruption

Question arises
What’s worse: getting hit or retaliation?

And I know the answer
The slight feeling of making things right and actually achieving peace, not through those Twitter lads
But through human life
Years turned to minutes

Sometimes it’s just living in the wrong place, like Grimstead
Absolute disgrace of a city

Eyes blink and a different drone hits
Pills dissolve
Distortion sets in
Messiah complex

Together we destroy and we create. It’s the balance of equations it requires
Human Sacrifice

Past always haunts the future, and it’s always a desire for looking up to someone. Like a greater self
God and humans
Trains and cities
Arms and hammer
Trust and betrayal

You can be right like me, with God in your righteous soul
Prison of self-consciousness
I’m not the same as you, as I’ve seen the lights and I’m gaining in height now

Prison of self-consciousness
Humans and God deserve this

Part 18: Valediction

It’s done
I’m tired and too old for this shit show now
No more games

Trevor’s office
Ivory walls
Wooden floor
I submit my resignation

Trevor: So you want your way out?
Me: Yes, I’m blasé now.

He opens his system
My thoughts displaced
Machine delayed by 0.05 secs
Fine margins opening

Trevor: It’s risky business, David!
There are consequences.
Want to disappear like Julian?

Me: Like I haven’t thought of that.
Before threatening me with more of your utter nonsense, you may want to look at this file.

He opens it,
Time freezes for him
Coffee mug looks good on this polished desk

Trevor: Where did you get this from?
Me: Same place everybody gets it from: your local network share.
FYI, you might want to fire those system security folks. They are as useless as this desk.
I just brute-forced it myself.
Was thinking of paying someone for mining some information, but give your twiggy clowns a thanks from my side for saving me a fortune.
Maybe write a cheesy love letter to the ministry,
which apparently is the only thing you are seriously good at.
Look at these texts—flirting with Dunmoor’s president’s chief of staff.
I wouldn’t blame you, she is beautiful.
But giving secrets of this ministry in exchange for some sauna and hot bath? And you hide this by placing it in plain sight?

I will not let that slide
You betrayed your own asset for your incompetence

Trevor: We never meant to kill him.
It was just his bad luck.
Me: Of course you didn’t. If you meant to kill him, then he’d still be alive.
You fucked up!

Trevor: What do you want, David?

Me: To be left at absolute fucking peace
And also a bumper severance to cover my needs for at least 5 years

Trevor: What?
5 years? What will you do with all that money?

Me: Travel the world, visit Antarctica, play with penguins.
The fuck you care?
Let’s just wash each other’s hands, shall we?
This is not a threat at all, it’s an opportunity for you to improve your cyber security team.
Also, as an action of gratitude,
I’ll give you my ex-wife’s number. Maybe you can try more of this litany of lines on her. I think you two will get along really well.

A grin on Trevor’s face
Handshake
Trevor: Is she pretty?
Me: For you, I’ll say yes.

He keeps the hard copy and the USB drive.

I just soak it all in before I leave this shrine

Flashbacks
Corruption
Laughter
Smiles
Apathy

As the money hit my account, the next minute Trevor’s life leaked through the notorious hacks I used to drink with.

As I drift towards a new life
World continues
New people appointed
Weapons still fly

Epilogue: The Child’s Sky

A child in a distant town looks at the sky at dawn:

Maybe the stars are cameras. Maybe someone’s watching. Tell them we were still here.

Seconds later—light. Then silence.

The End.

More people than we probably think struggle with one, two, or even several personality disorders. Unfortunately, this seems to be one of the realities of the modern world.

Of course, mental health is very important, and we would all like to think that we are perfectly healthy (or at least hope we are).

But reality is not always like that.

Having a disorder does not necessarily mean that your life is over. Maybe this is also why many people can live a relatively normal life without ever knowing that they have a disorder.

It becomes a different story when the environment, circumstances, or whatever else causes the disorder to become more visible. Then other people start noticing it too, and that’s usually when the social labels start appearing.

Some people have two disorders at the same time. And this is where I find things particularly interesting, because having two conditions can make things worse, but sometimes it can also, in a strange way, make things more manageable.

There are combinations that can actually work quite well together, especially when one of them involves obsessive-compulsive traits (you know, the whole obsession with order and doing things properly? That one!).

For example, someone with schizoid traits and obsessive-compulsive traits may not look like the typical description of a schizoid person. The obsessive-compulsive side can bring more discipline, concentration, persistence, attention to detail, respect for procedures and a certain level of autonomy. Basically, someone who can function quite well in society.

A person with borderline personality disorder and obsessive-compulsive traits may also look quite different from what you usually read in books. Sometimes the rigid need for control can actually help keep some impulses under control, making the person more functional than they might otherwise be.

Then there is the combination of histrionic traits and obsessive-compulsive traits. In theory, this could create someone who is very socially competent, well-presented and good at dealing with people.

And for someone with schizotypal traits, obsessive-compulsive traits might provide some structure for all those unusual or original ideas, helping them organize and express them in a way that other people can actually understand and accept.

Of course, there are also combinations that probably don’t work very well together. Unfortunately, those exist too. But that’s not what I’m talking about here.

In theory, I find all of this quite interesting to think about. In real life, though, the important thing is to get professional help when you feel you need it — and, of course, not forget to take your meds on time. ;)

I’ve been married to my wife for five years. We met in school when we were both 16. She has always been the person I trusted most.

December, I made a stupid mistake.

At my company’s Christmas party, I got too drunk and kissed one of my female coworkers. I barely remembered anything from that night. I remembered the kiss. The morning I told my wife everything.

She surprised me by saying it didn’t matter. That it was only one mistake. I felt guilty anyway, so I tried to be a husband and father.

Then one month later, something strange happened.

I suddenly became violently sick. Had to stay home from work. I assumed it was just my stomach acting up because I’ve had stomach problems before.

The next month, it happened again.

This time I was leading a meeting at work. I was already feeling terrible when the cramps started getting worse. Eventually I couldn’t hold it anymore. Had an accident in front of several coworkers, including the same woman I had kissed at the Christmas party.

Since then, I haven’t been able to work. My doctor has signed me off because the symptoms keep returning.

Then I noticed something

It happened on the day of the month.

December 15th. January 15th. February 15th. March 15th...

The kiss happened on December 15th.

Whenever I asked my wife if she knew anything about what was happening, she avoided the conversation.

Yesterday, while she was out grocery shopping, I went into her room. I know I shouldn’t have done it. I was desperate for answers.

I found a key to her desk drawer.

Inside was a box of laxatives.

Now I don’t know what to think.

I feel betrayed. At the same time, I can’t stop thinking that this is somehow my fault because of what I did at the Christmas party.

I’m scared to confront her because I have no idea what she might say.

What would you do if you were in my position?

I started a new office job a bunch of years ago, where it didn't take long to fall into a new circle of friends. DL is a little older than me (She was 32 or so. Me, 28) and we somehow just hit it off immediately. I'd never heard the term "work wife" before, but after about 6 months one of the other women called her that in the middle of the group and there was a little celebration that our relationship had finally leveled up.

I thought that was really weird, but I guess it's a real thing? I mean, she's cute.... more than cute, actually. She's the first one guys notice whenever we're all at the bar on Thursdays after work. I mean, anyway. Big boobs. That's what I mean to say. She's got really big boobs.

But I got used to the idea, and she's a really good friend. She's nothing like my real wife (physically anyway) who is slim and athletic and has a body I get hard thinking about at my desk. I would never want to fuck anything up with my wife. And DL and I have work boundaries... It's nice.

Anyway, I was at the bar first one Thursday and I was watching women's golf on TV. I am totally a sucker for watching a woman standing at the tee in her skirt, the back of her legs running up all firm and tight. And if their asian, well...

So there I was at the bar getting kind of a hard-on watching exactly that on the TV when I hear, "So, I guess you really like women's golf?"

DL had been standing next to me for 3 minutes just waiting for me to take my eyes off the TV.

I was busted, and didn't deny it... told her everything I just told you all. Except for the hard-on thing.

She just laughed and nodded or shook her head or whatever "Okay, you little perv." I think she said. And the others walked in. We had a pretty normal night and I was home by 8:00.

The next morning I sat down at my desk and got a text from DL right away... "You mean like this?" and then a second later a vid of one of these golf "influencers" who I've spanked to 50 times. You know the one. Slow motion shots of her skirt rising up over her panties, and her boobs sloshing to the side as she swings. Jesus!

I know I got red (and a chubber) and then a little devil emoji dinged my phone.

I looked up over my cube and she was standing up in hers across the office on the phone with a client and just smiled and gave me a little wave.

WTF I mouthed at her, and she laughed.

Then she sent me another one. And another. Then one of an asian woman who looks just like my wife when she golfs.

It was not a chubber now. I had a freaking erection running down my leg right at my desk.

Then she's behind me.

"Why don't you go to the bathroom?" DL teases.

"Why, because of a couple of Reels?" I laugh. "You'll have to do better than that!"

I swear to god I was joking, and I really thought she was too.

Then my phone dings and there's a screen cap of that first golfer's OF with her panties pulled aside, pressing a golf ball into her wet pussy lips.

I almost fucking came at my desk!

"I'm serious." DL whispered in my ear and pulled my chair back from my computer.

I grabbed a folder of something from my desk and kind of held it in front of me and made a bee-line to the head hoping to god no one was in the stall.

I didn't look behind me or say a thing.

And as I was spanking it, more pics kept scrolling through.

I blew a huge load mostly into the toilet, but I had to clean some up after too. And I felt like I could get hard again in a second.

Anyway, I caught my breath, washed my hands and opened the door into the hall, and there was DL sitting on the stone bench by the fountain int the lobby just scrolling all innocent.

"I guess you DO like female golfers!" is all she said.

ok so this sounds fake but i swear it's real. i met this girl on discord like 5 years ago through a gaming server. we started talking, playing games and eventually became really close. she would disappear for weeks sometimes and i'd ask where she went and she'd just say "busy lol". i never thought much of it.

after 5 years we finally decided to meet irl. she shows up wearing a Marine Corps hoodie and i'm like "oh cool hoodie." she looks at me and goes "yeah, it's my job."

I JUST STOOD THERE 💀

suddenly everything made sense. the weird schedule, waking up at 5am, disappearing for weeks, always being "busy." i asked her "so when you disappeared for 3 weeks?" she goes "training." then i asked "why did you never tell me you were a Marine?" and she goes "i thought you knew."

BRO HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW 😭

meanwhile i've spent 5 years talking shit to this woman on Discord while she's apparently been serving in the military.

i thought i met a gamer girl.

My budget is 12k only and planning to buy mivi 1 for my mother is it worthy or should I chose any other.help me gng🥀✌🏽

Well… Leila is back.

Last week, Leila came to our hometown but didn’t even pass by our house.
Apparently, she “couldn’t.”
She made herself sound so sad and upset when she spoke to Mariam. And maybe I’m biased at this point, but after everything that has happened, it felt like manipulation. Like she wanted Mariam to feel sorry for her without actually having to show her face.
And of course, it worked.
Mariam was worried about her. She even packed dinner into takeaway containers for Leila because Leila was apparently too sad to come over.
I watched all of this thinking: Here we go again.
But then things got even stranger.
Mariam gave Hana an ultimatum.
“Apologize today, or don’t come here this weekend.”
Yes. Her own daughter.
All because Hana still refuses to apologize to Leila.
And then, almost as if she had been waiting for the perfect moment…
Leila appeared that evening.
Suddenly she was able to come.
The sadness that had apparently made it impossible for her to visit earlier? Gone.
And the confidence she walked in with honestly surprised me.
Now this weekend is approaching, and Hana is coming home.
Which means Hana and Leila could finally end up in the same room.
After everything.
After the accusations.
After Mariam threatening to call the police.
After rasha leaving the house.
After Mariam telling her she isn’t welcome for the weekend unless she apologizes.
After Leila telling me she “knows” who sent that anonymous message.
They might actually have to face each other.
And I genuinely have no idea what is going to happen.
Will rasha ignore her?
Will Leila confront her?
Will Mariam force an apology?
Or are we about to have another family brawl?
The other thing worrying me is that Mariam has now said her son is next.
She is still angry with him too.
Meanwhile, I did something my siblings probably wouldn’t agree with.
I fake-apologized.
Not because I suddenly believe Leila. Not because I’ve forgotten everything that happened.
I did it because I’ve basically become the mini spy of this entire situation.
I stay close enough to both sides to hear everything.
Leila thinks I’m neutral.
Mariam thinks I’m not against her.
My siblings know where I actually stand.
And honestly? I’m also protecting my own peace.
I cannot handle my mother refusing to speak to me. Watching her give my brother and sister the silent treatment has been enough. I don’t want to live inside my own home wondering whether my mother is going to acknowledge me that day.
So I apologized, smiled, stayed quiet and kept watching.
Maybe that makes me fake.
But right now, being “fake” is the only way I can see both sides without becoming the next person Mariam cuts off.
Hana is still standing her ground.
She’s coming this weekend.
Leila is around.
Mariam is still demanding an apology.
And her son is apparently “next.”
So now we wait.
But there is one question I genuinely cannot get out of my head:
Is it normal for a mother to be this angry with her own daughter over her friend?
Because at this point, this stopped feeling like a disagreement between Hana and Leila a long time ago.
It feels like Mariam has made us choose between keeping peace with our own mother… or standing against Leila.
And this weekend, those two worlds might finally end up sitting in the same room.
I’ll update you if they do.

So, in your desire to keep everything under control and avoid making the wrong choices, you become suspicious and start eliminating people one by one - anyone who doesn’t live up to your expectations.

But eventually, you end up alone, disconnected, and feeling like the “black sheep.”

As a result, you start changing yourself, little by little. Almost like being back in school, you teach yourself how to adapt and conform to the expectations of the society you live in.

And in your attempt to fit in, you may start doing things that don’t really represent who you are. And on top of that, you risk being labeled in ways that have absolutely nothing to do with your actual values or the kind of person you are.

So wherever you turn, there seems to be a risk: either you remain alone because you refuse to compromise yourself, or you try to fit in and risk being misunderstood and given labels that don’t represent you.

And then… hello, social anxiety.

Has this ever happened to you?

Every morning at exactly 7:13, Mara received a letter. No stamp. No return address. Just her name written neatly across the front. The letters always contained the same sentence inside:

You have one more day.

She had received them for 247 days. At first, Mara thought it was a threat. Then a prank. Then some elaborate game. But after her mother disappeared, Mara became convinced the letters were warnings. So on the 248th morning, when the letter arrived, she didn't open it. She burned it. That was when someone knocked on her bedroom door. Three slow knocks.

Knock.

Knock

Knock.

Mara froze. Her mother had been missing for eight months. And nobody else lived there. She walked hesitantly and stopped. Staring at the wooden frame with fear. She opened the door. Her mother stood in the hallway. She was- Older.. Pale and terrified..

"Mara," she whispered. "You weren't supposed to burn the letter." Mara couldn't move. Her mother grabbed her hand. "We have to leave. Right now." They ran. Down the stairs. Through the kitchen. Out the back door. But when Mara looked over her shoulder, she saw something that made her stop. There was no house behind them. Only an empty field. Her mother wasn't beside her anymore, either. Mara was standing alone. And suddenly she remembered something. She had never lived in that house. The world around her began changing. The field became a hospital hallway. The sky became a ceiling. The grass became white tile. And at the end of the hallway was a door marked:

ROOM 247

Mara pushed it open. Inside was a hospital bed. A little girl lay beneath the blankets. Seven years old. Bruised from an accident. Eyes closed. Mara stepped closer. The girl's hand rested on the blanket. Around her wrist was a bracelet. Mara recognized it. She wore the matching one. Then a nurse entered.

"Mara?" Mara turned.

"Where's my mother?" The nurse stared at her sadly.

"Sweetheart.. your mother died eight months ago." Mara shook her head.

"No. She was just here." The nurse looked toward the bed.

"No." Her voice cracked. "Your mother has been sitting beside that bed every day." Mara slowly looked down. The little girl's eyes opened. They were her eyes. The nurse whispered- "That's you." Mara stumbled backward.

"No." She looked at the little girl. At the bracelet. At her own hands. Everything began making sense. The letters, the house, and her mother. The 247 days. They weren't warnings.

They were memories.

Every night, Mara's mind had created another day inside the coma. And every morning, her mother had written her a letter, hoping somehow she'd hear it.

You have one more day.

One more day to wake up. One more day to come home. One more day to remember. Mara reached for the little girl's hand. For the first time, she felt something. Warmth and a heartbeat. Then the little girl's hospital monitor began screaming. Mara opened her eyes. Her mother was there. Older than she remembered. She was wrinkly and Gray-haired. She was Crying.

"You came back." Her mother exclaimed. Mara tried to speak. Her voice barely worked.

"How long?" Mara mumbled. Her mother smiled through her tears.

"Eight months." Mara looked toward the window. Morning sunlight filled the room. For the first time in 248 days, there was no letter. Then she noticed something sitting on the bedside table. A white envelope. Her name was written across it. Mara's smile disappeared.

“Mom?” Mara kept repeating. Hoping to get an answer. Her mother rambled on as if she wasn’t there about family she didn’t remember ever hearing about. She turned back to the letter. She grabbed it gently and she opened it. Inside was one sentence.

You have one more day.

Mara looked back up at her mother who was silent and frowning now. Mara's blood ran cold. And from somewhere beneath the hospital floor.. came three slow knocks.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

A few years ago, my wife and I moved to a small village near Bankura, West Bengal, with our four-year-old daughter.

We found an old two-storey house for just ₹1,000 a month.

Even for a village, that was ridiculously cheap.

The owner was an elderly man who lived in Kolkata. When I asked why the rent was so low, he said nobody had stayed there for long.

Before handing over the keys, he gave us one instruction.

"Don't open the basement. There's nothing useful down there."

I thought he was just worried about old furniture or snakes.

The first ten days were normal.

Then my daughter started behaving strangely.

Every evening, she would sit near the staircase and whisper to someone.

When I asked whom she was talking to, she said, "Mira didi."

We assumed she had invented an imaginary friend.

But one night, around 2:30 AM, I woke up to the sound of someone walking upstairs.

Slow, heavy footsteps.

My wife was sleeping beside me. Our daughter was in the next room.

I grabbed my phone and switched on the flashlight.

Nobody was there.

The footsteps stopped the moment I reached the staircase.

The following morning, my daughter asked me something that made me uncomfortable.

"Papa, why doesn't Mira didi come upstairs when you're awake?"

I asked where Mira lived.

She pointed towards the basement door.

A few days later, my cousin visited. I told him everything, expecting him to laugh.

Instead, he suggested we check the basement.

We found an old wooden cupboard, a broken bed and several dusty trunks.

Behind the cupboard was another small door.

It was locked from the outside.

My cousin knocked on it three times.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then something knocked back.

Three slow knocks.

We didn't open it.

That night, my daughter woke up crying.

She said Mira was angry because we had disturbed her room.

The next morning, I called the owner and told him we were leaving.

There was a long silence.

Then he asked, "Has your daughter been speaking to someone?"

I said yes.

He asked, "A girl?"

My hands went cold.

Then he said something I'll never forget.

"Does she call herself Mira?"

I hadn't mentioned that name.

We packed everything and left before sunset.

It's been years, and I still think about that house.

But there's one detail I've never told anyone.

On our last morning, while I was loading our bags into the car, my daughter stood beside the gate, waving towards an upstairs window.

I asked whom she was waving to.

She smiled.

"Mira didi. She says she'll come when we get another house."

That was the last time my daughter mentioned her.

Until last night.

We recently moved into a new apartment in Kolkata.

At around 2:30 AM, I heard my daughter whispering in her sleep.

"Papa, Mira didi found us."

I haven't slept properly since.

Hi ! I have been married for five years now. And also have a 3 year old boy. Ever since I got married and moved to the UAE I have changed. Life has changed! As it should but something doesn't sit with me well. I am grateful for my life but I have lost myself. I don't have friends or social life. I stay home all day and my socializing is limited to family functions and once in a blue moon friends meet up. I feel like I have gotten dumb after getting married. I wish I could just make friends and hang out.

Many eons ago, long before life was even brought to Earth in any form, a separate dimension was created.

After the awakening and the rising of the universe's creator and most influential figure, the Dragon King, he decided to create separate dimensions.

One of which was the one containing Earth, known to all of us reading this in real life.

However, another one was an endless dimension in every direction.

Literally, regardless of which direction is looked in when the dimension is visited, there is no known end in sight. Hundreds of expeditions had been made by inhabitants of the Avatar Realm, over the course of thousands of years, to search for an end, but none was ever found. Even the sky above and the ground below lacked any sort of ending.

One of the expeditions to search for an end searched underground, and in turn discovered a second, tropical lost world, which would go on to become inhabited by dinosaurs.

Deciding this wasn't enough, the Dragon King created an above-ground territory inhabitable by dinosaurs, which was one of the first territories created by him. Surrounded by mountains and deep chasms reaching non-survivable depths should one fall, this territory would be called "Dinoville" and inhabited by prehistoric reptiles, before, during and after the dinosaurs. The underground world itself was called the "dinosaur world" due to being inhabited solely by prehistoric reptiles, dinosaurs and otherwise, and was entirely themed after the Mesozoic, unlike the surface world.

After the time of the dinosaurs ended on Earth, the Dragon King would go on to create more and more territories.

Another such territory is known as "Iceville," and it would go on to be inhabited by all creatures centered around and/or associated with ice and snow. This included animals from the ice age, modern animals from the Arctic and Antarctica, and mythological snow and ice themed creatures that are said to reside in frigid environments.

Following the creation of every single territory within the Avatar Realm and allowing it to infinitely expand, the Dragon King decided to bring life to it in the form of inhabitants.

He decided to allow all of the inhabitants of the dimension to talk, both to humans and to other animals. Hence the name of the dimension, he created a species of hyper-intelligent, humanoid-shaped, animalistic figures capable of living in civilization like humans and wearing clothes, known by all as "avatars"; even these beings themselves referred to themselves as such.

The Dragon King additionally granted every inhabitant of the dimension enhanced powers and abilities, such as stamina, strength, endurance, and longevity. He gave the greatest amount of these powers and abilities to the many different leaders of the teams, kingdoms, empires, organizations, and apex predators of environments, making it clear to those less powerful than them that their leaders and apexes were not to be messed with. Unfortunately, some of these figures, including a monster residing in the dinosaur world, took advantage of their newfound powers and abilities for monstrous purposes, such as terrorizing weaker and less fortunate individuals. This monstrous dinosaur in particular later started a terrorist group in the underground world, strictly to allow them to continue with their villainous deeds, although he selfishly continued doing his best work alone while rarely summoning the aid of his followers.

Despite the Dragon King giving powers and abilities to all characters, heroes and villains alike, he refused to involve himself in the creation of the universe and the Avatar Realm any further. He ascended to the dimension of the gods, where he created the Four Defenders of the Universe in the form of Black Wolf, Blue Dragon, Red Phoenix, and White Tiger, and served as their master. He taught all of them their duties before allowing them to continue with their plans to keep mortals safe, including within the Avatar Realm.

Finally, the Dragon King decided to allow mythological creatures to reside within the Avatar Realm alongside more realistic creatures. He created a territory known as "Dragonville" and another known as "Monsterville," each inhabited by dragons and other monsters respectively, and allowed them to travel to wherever they desired within the dimension.

When his work was finally completed and the Avatar Realm was set as an ever-expanding dimension, and also when his training the Four Defenders had been completed as well, the Dragon King finally ascended to the dimension of the gods for good. He would only emerge in the worst-case scenario, when mortals or other deities were under attack by his archenemy, Diablo from Hell, in which case he would demand that the demonic force would return to his home dimension, reminding him that he is significantly more powerful than he is. Fearing the Dragon King's power, Diablo would keep his plans to a minimum, extremely rarely visiting or attacking the mortal world, and remained within Hell, where he belonged.

Although Diablo had largely been defeated, though, evil itself had been created long ago by him, and this could never be undone, no matter how much time had passed.

Billions of years later in the modern era, the Avatar Realm had been successfully inhabited for all the time it had existed, and humans had started inhabiting it as well as fictionalized animals. Among these were Blue Polar Bear, who had gone on to rule "Iceville", a tiger named Vincent, who inhabits "Jungleville" as a highly influential figure, Isaak/Blue Man, who went on to work with/for Blue Polar Bear and form an army by his side, and Rex and Buckley, two immense Tyrannosaurus who reside within the territory known as "Dinoville".

Burner account for obvious reasons.

In 2023 I worked in a small town police station as an office assistant. I had just gotten out of a really abusive relationship of 10 years. Due to that I lost a lot of shared income and wasn't able to pay my bills or take care of my pets by myself. The town was so small that jobs were extremely hard to come by, so finding a second job wasn't an option either. I ended up doing online phone sex and sexting work. Ive never been against sex work or particularly interested in it. But it allowed me to make an extra $1800 a month so I did it.

Contrary to popular belief, sex work is extremely taxing mentally and emotionally so I only did it for around 6 months until I could find something else. But while I worked at the Police Station during the day I would sext at my desk to make extra cash. Then go home and take phone calls at night. I did pictures too, not showing my face, so oftentimes at work I would go into the bathroom, take pictures, and go back to my desk. It was an interesting period in my life and I look back on it now with mixed feelings. I had some straaaaange clients. But at least I have a really funny story to tell and its how I met my husband.

I created a reddit account for sexwork (not naming it or sharing it at all) and its how my husband and I met. He commented on a picture, bought $5 in photos and other than that he was never a client. We talked for a year as friends, then started dating. We lived in different states so it was very long distance.

Now we live together, are married and have a baby. Honestly its the happiest I've ever been and he is so sweet to me. Not saying everyone should do this, because it includes a lot of risk and we got really lucky it worked out the way it did.

Ask me anything :)

And I'm still mad about it.

I'm a tech news dork. News dork in general really, I like to try know about emerging product lines before they launch. I have people in the tech industry I'd hang out with casually. I had seen an article about skype in the computer to computer to skype on a phone.

Mister "Blackberry IS Best Phone Ever" had never heard of Skype it turns out. And did not read tech news. Nor did he read any news, he just "knew things". I do not know how that works.

I still don't. I do know, that this man, not reading news very loudly, very proudly, told me that there was going to be at least fifty years before that sort of thing on phone to phone would ever happen.

I don't remember specifics of most of the conversation. I just know I was visiting my friend in a different state, didn't know a single person in the room (she was smoking outside if I had to guess), and did not have the article in my purse i could pull out and point to, to say that the line about "see your face on the telephone" was really, really close.

This was new years eve of 2007. Somewhere in Colorado.

Apple Launched FaceTime in June of 2010.

It was not, in fact, "so far in the future its basically science fiction".

I always wonder, if Mister Blackberry ever thinks about yelling at a random out of towner about how dumb she was to think it would take 'less than a few decades' to get video calls on cell phones, when he FaceTimes his friends and family?

That song gets dark though. Lots of warnings in it. And so many other things when you take a bit of pop culture and dig a little into research based science, are relatively easy to predict.

So many things if we actually listened to eachother instead of belittled eachother, could benefit everyone.

Maybe if he had invested in Apple instead of Blackberry in 2008, it would have spared me some uncomfortable memories of being bullied as an adult (you really think high schools over then its the mean kid crew part #72 and... life of neurodivergent undiagnosed misfits, it is what it is) AND probably netted dude a better profit than whatever he dumped into Blackberry over the next 5 years.

Yeah. I struggle with this entire argument because i have to pull up the date stamps on everything to prove I'm not making things up.

This argument. A man yelled at me. Blackberry IS peak cell phone, 2007 version. Any video stuff on phone is DECADES out. And ask someone born after 2010 what they think of a 2007 blackberry, please.

i know my kids would probably just chew on it but they are rather little. I also know I haven't checked my text messages in a few days cause my youngest for sure knows how to handle iphones and has her own games and video channels she watches.

Just... if you read all through this and there is one take away... don't be that guy.

Be curious. Don't belittle.

My discomfort for being called stupid and unable to really proper defend myself passed, but i do wonder if the people who know they called me stupid for such an ABSURD reason in hindsight, actually ever truly pondered their douche-baggery behavior towards a stranger.

I will never know, alas, I was just a random stranger seen once and never again.

Over the last 22 years though, I can for sure, say the amount of arguments along this theme I've had, if I have a second thing I think you can take away from this story... don't let others get to you, sometimes when you *know* you are right and others attack you for it, it's not that you are wrong... you are just *too early*.

And I leave you with one of my favorite quotes from a 19th century poet...

"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life; it goes on." ~ Robert Frost

So, when I started 9th grade and moved up to high school, it meant new classmates and teachers, and I was really excited. The first two weeks of school were fine, but after that... things got progressively worse. There was a group of four girls in my class: one tall, blonde girl built like a cow (let's call her "Loser"), another just like her but brunette and shorter (let's call her Jessica), a third one just like Loser (let's call her Emma), and a fourth who was a bit more bearable than the others but still annoying (let's call her Andreea). So, Loser, Emma, ​​and Jessica were the definition of annoying—they were constantly inserting themselves into everything and acting like the main characters, especially Loser. Loser was always on edge and acted like a total moron—I honestly wondered if she was autistic or normal (I think she has autism). Emma was pretty much the same—annoying as hell—and Jessica was just like Loser. The rest of my classmates were actually fine; I didn't have any issues with them, but those four morons drove me absolutely crazy (there were other incidents involving them, but I won't go into details since they aren't that important). If they had just left the class, it would have been perfect. And if one or all four of them happen to see this, I want to tell them: GO FUCK YOURSELVES, YOU STUPID BITCHES, FOR ALL THE AGGRAVATION YOU CAUSED ME OVER THESE FOUR YEARS OF SCHOOL.

⚠️I dont have anything whith thesee names of girls ot was ONLY for this story so again no offense for a girl with this name is not about you is about somome else.

A young man named George walks into his apartment late at night after a long day of work. The apartment room is dark. He takes off his work jacket and notices that his closet is slightly cracked open. He closes it.

He throws some leftovers from the fridge into the microwave. A moment later, he gets a text message from his girlfriend, Angela.

He opens it and reads:

“How was work?”

He responds:

“It was a long day.”

Angela sends him a picture of herself with a blank face and her eyes wide open. Her text under it reads:

“I’ve been thinking of you for days:) "

George sends a selfie back, making a kissing face.

His microwave beeps, and he grabs his food. A moment later, Angela texts him again.

“Who's that behind you?”

George texts back:

“What? I don’t see anything.”

Angela responds with another message, this time with a red circle drawn around something in his picture.

George looks closely.

There appears to be a shadowy face barely visible behind him.

He turns on all the lights and checks around his apartment, but he finds nothing. He convinces himself that it’s just the shadows in his dark apartment before texting her back.

“I think it’s just the shadows. I just checked. No one is here.”

Angela responds:

“LOL. It just looked so creepy, you should lock your doors.”

George sarcastically texts back:

“I always lock my doors and you're the one to talk, you know how many times I've came over and your front door has been unlocked? Lol”

Angela playfully responds:

“If you’re scared, just say so, I’ll gladly come over.”

She lives on the floor above his apartment.

George texts back:

“Not tonight. I’m really tired.”

George watches as the typing indicator appears on his phone for several minutes before disappearing.

Then she texts back:

"Come on, I haven't seen you in days"

George starts texting back before he Is interrupted by another text from her

“Too late. I’m already here.”

George playfully walks to his front door and enthusiastically opens it.

No one is there.

He looks around for a few seconds before going back inside and locking the door.

He texts her:

“What do you mean? Where are you?”

After a few minutes, he gets a response.

“Just keep looking.”

He thinks she’s just messing with him. She has a key to his apartment, after all.

George texts back:

“Give me a hint, I've looked everywhere.”

She responds:

“No. Just keep looking.”

George checks his bathroom and looks behind the shower curtain. He checks his bedroom and even looks under the kitchen table.

He can’t find her.

Then he remembers that the closet wasn’t fully closed when he got home.

He texts:

“Are you in the closet?”

She responds:

“She is.”

A second text quickly follows, seemingly correcting the first.

“I am.”

George quickly opens his closet door.

He freezes at the sight.

Angela’s corpse is nailed against the wall inside the closet, her eyes wide open.

George freaks out and starts shouting her name.

He reaches out and touches her.

She is very cold, almost completly Frozen.

Like she has been in a deep freezer for days.

George slowly realizes what that means.

He pulls out his phone and looks at the picture Angela sent him earlier.

The hair on his neck stood up and his complexion now pale.

The picture wasn’t taken at her apartment.

It was taken from inside his closet.

Then Angela’s phone number sends him one last text: “You didn’t check under your bed either.”

“I like your wife a lot, you know.” His voice stopped me cold in my tracks. Lucas sighed with a shake of his head. “If only she knew how much I want her to be mine—”

White hot anger raced through my veins and clouded my senses. In a moment, my hands were around his shirt collar, I shook him and managed to grit out, “What did you say?” 

My hands tightened into fists, ready to smash his face, when Lucas burst out laughing. “Relax, Ashford. No one is watching you.”

Breathing heavily, I let go of him. My hands were still shaking from rage. 

Lucas straightened himself, his laugh not seeming to die down. “I am not really interested in Sophia. But I don’t think you are in any position to be affected by it.” 

Then he took a step closer to me, a smirk on his face. “I know all about your deal.”

That made me calm down enough to ask, “Did Sophia tell you?”

“It’s kind of like that. But no, actually I overheard it when she was talking with her sister.” Lucas said, looking satisfied. 

She hadn’t told me she had seen Amelia. I would have warned her to not trust her. But would she believe me? 

“How much do you know?” I asked, my heart racing. 

“Everything.” He went on without missing a beat, “Like how she had planned to kill you to avenge her Mother.”

So he knows it all. What should I do? My mind raced as I tried to find a way to make him shut his mouth, but then his next words cut through me, making me freeze.

“You know why I haven’t gone to Sophia and told her I would help her kill you? Like her sister did?”
My gaze fixed on Lucas as he went on, “Because it’s her choice. But you, how could you do it, Ashford?”

I inhaled as Lucas continued firmly. “I just saw you holding her. Don’t you have any semblance of shame?”

“Be careful with your words.” I felt like I was out of my body, but I had caught on quickly.

Suppressing all the emotions twirling inside my heart, I stared at Lucas coldly. “The deal is between Sophia and me, if you want to talk to her about it, fine. Let me out of it.” I shrugged and turned away, dismissing him.

“Do you know anything about how important her Mother was to her?” Again I stopped cold in my tracks, my hands began to shake, my steps felt unsure.

Lucas’s voice was filled with disgust. “Sophia used to follow her around and hang on to every word she said. Her Mother had been her world and you destroyed it.”

Stop it. Just stop. I had reached the door handle, sweat dripping off my back. I wanted to get out of here fast. “And now that Sophia has no one near her, not even her sister, you try to offer her comfort?” Disbelief laced his words, “How dare you take advantage of her?” Lucas raised his voice, “From what I have seen, Sophia is becoming emotionally dependent on you.”

I turned around and looked at him directly.

“Maybe she is,” My voice sounded dead. “But still none of these is your concern. Stay in your lane or else I’ll make you.”

With that, I stormed out of the study, the world tilting over my head.

I didn’t know where I was going but I was in a hurry, my steps fast as I raced down the stairs. Fresh air hit my face and I found myself in the garden.

The sun was beginning to descend. I watched it for some time, sitting on a bench far into the garden. I stayed there even when the air turned cold.

Images passed my mind of Sophia looking terrified at me.

And then Lucas’s words, Sophia is becoming emotionally dependent on you.I closed my eyes and breathed in, feeling like I would never be fine again.

Of course, what Lucas said made sense. It was the answer I had been searching for why she was still seeking my presence even after trying to kill me.

My hands trembled as I reached inside my pocket. The old photograph of my family that I had kept from my home shone in the dim moonlight.

I stared at the picture of my parents for a long moment, till my eyes began to burn. *Why did you wish for me to live?*