#this is low-key just a ref because keeping it on a piece of paper like I had been doing is

[tarnishedhalo]

Ship meme: The whiskey three

Married Life || Accepting { @therealgamble, @whiskeyandtwoshotglasses}

If  We Don’t Die, It’ll Make a Helluva Story

leaves their dirty clothes on the floor

The night before…

“Jesus, Riley, do you have to be such a slob?” “You were the one that said I couldn’t bring B-”“Say her name one more time-”

“Guys…honestly, is it so hard to-” It was all fun and games before the whiskey got knocked over and the tee-shirt was used to mop it up.

forgets to run the dish washer

It’s a land of empty mre packets and plastic utensil forests. There’s empty 3.2 cans, packed in such a way that they’d been claimed as tactical gear…and somehow, the brass bought it. All to avoid Punto Negro the Second of its Name.

Hunter still refuses to tell Gamble the story, and as predicted, uses security clearance as his excuse. Riley just laughs.

pumps gas for the car

It’s a known fact that Gamble drives. Riley pumps the gas because it’s better than waiting ~but it’s so he can stretch and pull tension out of his spine, his leg~ and Hunter…Hunter is the one that sits in the back, dreaming of margaritas and warm sands. Until they hit the roadblock. Then there’s a burst of thirty second activity. Before the car moves an inch, Brian’s now in the back, black case at his feet, looks like a suitcase. They know better. Hunter’s behind the wheel because he’s the one that speaks the local language. And Riley’s the one muttering it’s never going to work until Gamble kicks his seat.

It’s a fire-drill every few dozen clicks, lather rinse and repeat as it was before. Their shirts stick to their skin, rivers of damp down their spine, their brow, every part of them that isn’t covered with dirt.

drives when they’re going somewhere

It’s old hat by now. Squad forward to the release point.

Bravo is silent because there’s none, which makes some things better, some worse.

“Kumbaya, kids.”

The claymores are in place, camouflaged. The moon is low giving limited visibility so they have to rely on Gamble who is far too cheerful. The patrol they’ve set up against is destined to make its rounds and Riley and Hunter have established a crossfire. It will be a kill zone for forty-five seconds. Then green smoke between their position and the objective.

“You should see the look on your faces.”Riley knows Gamble’s keeping up moral in his way and because he knows neither Riley nor Hunter can smack-talk back. It’s both a comfort and an annoyance.

Gamble lets out a low, sharp whistle over the comms and time starts. Patrol is at Nine and Twelve. A deviation from what recon had gathered but it makes no difference. There’s barely sound as the first shots don’t ring out, weapons suppressed. 

“My granny leap-frogs better than you two old ladies. And she’s been dead twenty years. Don’t make me come down there and show you how it’s done.”

They move, covering each other while Gamble watches over, picks off the extras with well placed shots.

They hit the door and kick down the door, smoke obscuring everything, even breath. The masks do little to filter out the acrid taste but at least they aren’t crying. 

“Five…four….three….two….white.”

Moments later, out they come, dragging the limp frame between them. Riley hands over his rifle, Hunter slings his over his shoulder. The objective gets slung over Riley’s shoulder and it’s a running back’s rush as the PJ eats ground. The Brit’s not far behind him, pulling a pin with his teeth and lobbing the grenade into the building’s open maw.

rearranges the furniture

There’s four of them now, crammed into a space barely bigger than a couple of jail cells, and the civvie’s getting antsy. Keeps asking questions none of the Whiskey Three have answers for. Gamble’s given up trying to allay the engineer’s fears and has started ignoring him. Riley just keeps pouring drinks. Hunter thinks both of them are pretty shitty when it comes to intel.

He pulls a cable spool over to make a makeshift table, used chalk and a sharpie to make a board. Pebbles for pieces. Talks to him in his own language over the longest checkers game in history, because, as he reminds the other two…

This man is afraid. Was rescued from his own murder because he was willing to betray his god and his family to do the right thing. He’s still human.

Later, when the night gets cold because the desert’s a bitch that way, Hunter pulls the spare sleeping bag closer to the portable heat source, and gives the guy an extra blanket, and space to pray.

He notices though, that their guest isn’t the only one. Gamble’s got a well worn picture of Tabby that he may or may not just have brushed a thumb over, and he knows without a doubt that it’s a rosary Riley’s murmuring over. In moments like that, Hunter bites his tongue and doesn’t ask him if it’s Mary or his sister that he’s praying to. Low hanging fruit, and all.

falls asleep with the TV on

Three days on and things have scraped the bottom of the barrel for boring. And Riley’s going out of his mind. Waiting was always the worst part of the job, the hours and hours of nothing but watching sand-flies crawl up the crumbling mud walls, and the heat shimmer parching the dirt outside, micro-waving the horizon.

Muzzani and Hunter have grown tired of checkers, and are dozing off the afternoon heat. Gamble’s turn on the radio.

“You ever think about retiring from this? Getting a joe-job and-”“Naw. Where would you two be without me saving your asses?”“But we could be home right now, cold beer, game on the tv, yelling at the refs for shitty calls.”

“And who would you put in our place?”

“You make a valid point.”“Sure as shit I do.”

Riley shacks up in a corner, back against the wall, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. He refuses to complain, but some part of him knows he’s starting to get too old for this. He pulls his lid down over his eyes and closes them for just a minute…

gets to use the bathroom first

It’s the only time that Hunter’s had to himself, and of course, he’s stuck inside three and a bit canvas walls. He steals from it a moment of serenity from Riley’s constant complaint and Gamble’s murderous sarcasm. Even Muzzani’s hopelessness and fears. It gives him a moment of focus and clarity, to remind himself that they just need to wait a little longer.

Patience, after all, was a virtue, even here.

Patience is also what he calls the camel-spider lurking near the toilet paper.He doesn’t mention Patience because you have to laugh about something.

decides the temperature for the ac/heater

From temperatures that can soar upwards of a 105 degrees during the day, down to less than 40 at night, each one of them believes this is hell, and there’s nothing they can do about it.

sets up holiday decorations

“Uh…what are you doing?”

“Herding sheep. The fuck does it look like I’m doing?”

“….where did you even get flowers?”

“Muzzani and Hunter helped me out.”“And you’re stringing them together with…suture thread and a needle from the med kit?”

“It’s tradition.”“For…what?”

“It’s June 11th. Kamehameha day. So I’m making a lei.”

“You…need…fuckin’ therapy.”

leaves the lights on

Gamble’s set up the left side, Riley the right. They aren’t exactly landing lights but you do what you can. The road flares glow with a sickly pale red light, but it’ll be enough for the chopper to pick up a visual. It’s a bittersweet sensation; on one hand, it means finally going home. On the other, it means giving away your location and things have been going too smoothly, too quietly…

They’re all thinking it, but no one wants to be the asshole who says it out loud.

uses the bathroom with the door open

Man was raised in a bar, can’t be bothered to walk the hundred paces to make it from the door way to the latrine. Just unzips and lets it go, shakes. All with one hand, rifle steady in the other.“Do you do that at home?”Riley flashes Hunter a grin, even in the dark.

Gamble bites back on the first, second, thirty-fifth thing that comes to mind.

fixes the plumbing (or calls the plumber)

Sand scours the few exposed bits of flesh as the chopper blades whip it into a frenzy, not that they notice. Their luck didn’t hold out like it promised to. The night is filled with the staccato burst of automatic fire on both sides, Hunter’s running point with Muzzani and they’re half way toward the dark silhouette and the open doors that mean extraction.

Gamble and Riley are laying down cover fire and they’re running low; four heart beats later, Gamble’s shouting for them to haul ass and…nothing happens. He’s gotten about a third of the way when he notices he’s running alone.“Shit. Shit. Shit.”The pilot’s signaling, Hunter’s screaming…And fucktard’s not moving at all.

Keying his radio, Gamble barks a change in plan, from gun-run to cas-evac. And as soon as they get back to civilization, he’s going to kick Riley’s ass.

He turns back to drag his friend from the shadow of the building.

#Thanks!G #The Whiskey Three|Gamble and Hunter and Riley #excerpts from the 'drabble' I'm writing for Gamble-mun's other prompt #tw: violence #tw: strong language #tw: stupidly long post under cut #therealgamble

[redditnosleep]

The Terrifying Note Addressed To My Six-year-old Son

by Creeping_dread

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |  Part 5 | Part 6 (Final)

This story has a free audiobook available!

Carr picked up on the third ring.

Me: It’s Jay! Not Ray!

Carr: Wait, slow down…

Me: (I took a deep breath) Carrie looked at the church membership bulletin from 07. She recognized Jayson Fisher as the guy from ten years go...when she….

Carr: Okay….

Me: And he’s a tee ball ref. Umpire. Whatever you call them. He goes by Jay. And no one can reach him, not for the last several days. I think he’s got Andrew. We have to hurry…

Carr: Does your wife have an address?

Me: Address?

Carr: The bulletin. It should list an address. He may not still live there, but it’s as good a start as any.

Me: Okay, I’ll call you back.

I hung up and dialed Carrie’s cell phone. After five or six rings, her voicemail picked up. I hung up and texted her. Need Jay’s address. Check the bulletin!

I hopped off the couch and grabbed my keys in a mad rush to get to my truck. I climbed inside and waited, hand tapping on the steering wheel. I started to text Ryan to see if he knew Jay’s address, or could get it, when Carrie’s text dropped down at the top of the screen.

15 franklin dr

I texted her back: Thank you. Is Kyle okay?

Nursery at church. Fine.

I called Detective Carr as I whipped my truck out of the garage. When he picked up, I was almost shouting.

Me: 15 Franklin Dr. That’s his address.

Carr: Okay, got it. I’ve already radioed it in and I’m heading that way. Dean, are you on the road? (I turned down the radio, which was blasting some shitty pop song I’d heard a million times.) Look, you know this guy is extremely dangerous. (I heard his siren start its piercing wail). You and Carrie need to stay where you are and…

I hung up and tossed my phone onto the passenger seat. I knew he was right, but there was no way I was sitting this one out. Carrie and I had gotten Andrew into this mess and I had a sinking feeling he’d need at least one of us to get him out.

I called Carrie twice more on the way. This is Carrie! Leave a message. The second time, I did. Carrie, where are you? Are you okay? Please call me back.

Franklin Drive was only about ten minutes from our house, per my GPS, but I made it in about eight. The streets were always empty on Sunday mornings and I hit almost every green light. If Carr was anywhere near the police station, that meant he’d be several minutes behind me.

As soon as I turned onto Franklin drive, I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. Carrie’s white SUV was parked in front of a small brick house about three quarters of the way down the street. I recognized it immediately by the purple sticker on the back window. It was from Kyle’s school. In that moment, for some weird reason, the only thing I could think was: at least I told her I loved her. And that’s a brutal thing to have to think about someone you love.

I pulled in behind her and jumped out of the truck. I thought I could hear sirens blaring in the distance, but I couldn’t wait. Carrie was inside somewhere.

I made my way toward the front door, which was closed, but then I heard some shouting coming from the back of the house, and I saw the gate on the side of the house was wide open. I ran around the side and barreled into the backyard.

Jay was standing in the center of the yard, but he didn’t quite look how I expected. He was tall— over six feet—and had a baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes. The beginning of a wispy beard was showing on his jaw and neck and the hint of a belly protruded through the bottom of his one-size-too-small t-shirt. He stood as if his legs could barely hold him up anymore, like a prize fighter after a losing bout.

Andrew stood next to him, atop a box which sat on a tall kitchen stool. Duct tape was wrapped around both his eyes and mouth. He was standing perfectly still, hands at his sides, as Jay screamed at Carrie to stay back.

There was a noose around Andrew’s neck, tied to the branch of a sycamore tree which hung many feet above his head.

Carrie was standing in front of me and to the left, still in her dress from church. It billowed in the breeze around her thin frame.

When Jay saw me, he narrowed his eyes.

Jay: I wondered when you’d show up, Deano! Such a rude one, you are! Didn’t your mother tell you that wasn’t nice?

Carrie glanced back at me, but kept her body turned toward the threat in front of her. She mouthed I’m sorrybefore swinging her head back around.

Me: Just let him go, Jay! (I held my empty hands up). I’m sorry for being rude. No one needs to get hurt.

Jay: No one needs to get hurt? It’s too late for that, bucko.

Carrie: What do you want?

Jay: You, Carrie. It was always YOU!

Carrie: Why the note to the paper, then? Surely there was a better way to have me. Instead, you ruined me. And you outted yourself.

Jay: Because you lied to me! And I didn’t want you to lie anymore. If I’d come looking for you, you never would have had to tell Dean about our little affair. So, I pushed you. And then you had a choice! Tell Dean about your little secret, so he could put the pieces together, or keep it from him and let little Andrew die. Since you’re here, I guess it means you came clean. And what a wonderful little moment that must have been! Now everyone will know, and no one will want you, not even your husband! (He turned away from her). How's that wonderful marriage now? Do you like my sloppy seconds?

Me: Okay, you won, Jay. You won. What do you want to hurt Andrew for?

Jay: I don’t want to hurt Andrew! (He rubbed a shaking hand through his hair.) All this time. I’ve been good allthis time! When you’re good you’re supposed to get a treat! (He looked back at Carrie). You TOLD me you didn’t want to have kids. You said that! And then I heard them call Kyle’s name at his tee ball game, and I saw you in the stands, and I just…

He swayed a bit, and when his hip bumped the stool it almost went toppling over. Andrew reached out his arms, balancing himself, and the stool righted. But not before something fell from the back of the box—behind Andrew’s feet—onto the ground. Jay leaned down and picked it up. It was a large kitchen knife.

Me: You just what, Jay?

I needed him to keep talking. I’d heard the sirens for a moment, but they’d stopped. The police were outside.

Jay: Carrie was supposed to be MINE. And so was Kyle.

Carrie: How can we fix it, Jay? (She took a step forward).

Me: Carrie….

Carrie: Jay, how can we fix it?

Jay: We can trade.

Carrie: Okay, fine. Trade what?

Jay: Your life, Carrie.

I took a step forward, but stopped when Jay pressed the knife against Andrew’s side and shook his head. Then, he pointed the knife at Carrie.

Jay: Your life for Andrew’s. That’s the deal. That’s what all of this has come to! If I can’t have you, no one can. It’s the only way. And if you refuse…. (He brought the knife back and pressed it against Andrew’s side, harder this time). You’ll have to live with….

Carr: Drop the knife! Now!

Carr was standing in the gate, his service weapon drawn. Jay wobbled to his left and hid himself behind Andrew, putting his foot on the first rung of the stool like he was going to kick it over. Andrew was standing pretty high off the ground and I realized that if he fell, he’d probably break his neck before he had time to suffocate.

Carr: Touch him and you die, Jay! Listen to me! Put the weapon down!

There were two other officers beside him now, both with their weapons drawn.

Carrie: No, wait!

Jay paused, ignoring everyone but Carrie. His foot was still on the rung.

Carrie: It’s my fault, Jay. I know that. (She took another step).

Me: Carrie, what are you doing?

Carr: Both of you, stay where you are!

Jay: (A hint of a smile had crept onto his face). Do we have a deal?

Carrie: I can’t ever take it back. But I can make up for it.

Me: Carrie! It’s not your fault! I know he drugged you!

Jay: DO WE?

Carrie: I love you, Dean.

Me: Carrie!

Jay: DO WE HAVE A DEAL?

When Carrie said deal and charged at Jay, the entire world seemed to screech to a halt. It felt like she was running in slow motion, her tight blonde ponytail floating behind her as if gravity had no dominion over it.

I ran then, too, but I was several steps behind her. And I was too late.

Carrie— barely 120 pounds—who believed she’d made a terrible mistake and was now going to right it, and Jay Fisher—the 200+ pound tee ball ref—who had killed before and thought he owned the life of the one who’d gotten away, collided with a force that I swear was more than the sum of its parts. Ten years of shame and guilt and vengeance exploded underneath that sycamore tree, and as their bodies twisted and fell to the ground, a wayward arm knocked Andrew from his stool.

In that moment, which is now frozen in my mind, I had a choice: grab Andrew before he fell, or dive onto the pile and save Carrie. I don’t remember making a conscious decision. All I know is the next moment I was holding Andrew, the rope tightened around his neck just enough to make him cough, but not to cut off his airway, as I screamed for Carr to help Carrie.

Then I heard two shots, one right after the other.

When I looked down, I saw blood. So much blood. I wondered if Carr had missed and hit Carrie. But when Jay rolled onto his back, I could see both bullet holes. One in his chest and one in his stomach. So why was there blood on Carrie?

Once I freed Andrew, I knelt down beside Detective Carr. He was applying pressure to a wound in Carrie’s abdomen, where a red stain was spreading.

When I heard her cry, it was the greatest sound I’d ever heard. She was alive.

Yesterday, my entire world almost ended. Today, things seem a little brighter, but we still have a ways to go.

I’m sitting in Carrie’s hospital room with my laptop, watching her sleep. The knife pierced her large intestine but missed all other major organs. So far, there are no signs of infection, and the doctors believe with rest and time, she’ll make a full recovery.

I’ve replayed that moment right before Andrew fell in my brain a hundred times. Maybe a thousand. My heart tells me if I’d chosen Carrie, maybe she wouldn’t have gotten stabbed. My brain tells me Andrew would have died if I had. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to reconcile that choice, but one thing’s for certain: now I know how Carrie felt all those years.

It's a tough to look deeply within yourself, admit your sins (or mistakes) and seek redemption for them. I think that's exactly what Carrie did yesterday beneath that sycamore tree. She made up for the past. And I'm proud of her.

Andrew was returned to his father’s care completely unharmed. From what I’ve heard through Ryan, Andrew’s dad doesn’t believe any trauma—sexual or otherwise—occurred. This should mean that Andrew will be just fine, too. And that’s going to make Carrie very happy when she wakes up. Once their tee ball season gets started again—oh yes, the dads are already trying to get it going—I need to remember to sit down with his dad and explain what Jay’s note about Andrew meant. I hope he’ll understand.

Detective Carr visited the hospital earlier this morning. Jay Fisher is dead, of course, and the prevailing sentiment in the community is shock and disbelief. Apparently, Jay hid is true nature pretty well. He did use to be trim and clean cut, but word was he’d let himself go over the last couple years. Oh, and he never was an accountant. He’d applied to be an accountant, at the only tax firm here in town, but got rejected. He didn’t turn out to be a mall Santa or Easter Bunny either—so Carr got that part wrong—but they did find wigs and face paint in his home at 15 Franklin. He definitely had a thing for being a clown. And they found some other strange stuff, too. Other poems, just like the ones written to us, except about other people. Some written on paper, some in the white space of magazine pages, and some even on the walls. Carr’s checking into the ones that contain first names and other identifying information, but I doubt I’ll be privy to what he finds out. If I do, I’ll let you know.

We talked about 3 Orange Circle, too. Turns out there WAS a body buried down there, in a shallow grave about two feet deep.

Only problem was, it wasn’t Suzanne Kerrington.

Carr chuckled after he broke the news and he saw my face, but I knew it wasn’t mirth behind his smile. It was bewilderment. In a town like ours, you rarely come across monsters like this. For some reason, they gravitate to more highly populated areas, I guess so they can blend in with the crowd.

I asked him how they knew it wasn’t her. Turns out, Susie had fractured her left arm pretty badly cheerleading in junior high. Her Dad—who Carr said he’d called, although he hated to, asking for any features he could use to identify her— thought it was her ulna. I didn’t need those records, though, Carr told me. When someone gets a bad fracture, it leaves a mark when it heals. Like a scar on the bone. Whoever was buried down there in the basement had never broken either arm.

I asked him whether he thought Jay was the one who killed the woman (it WAS a women, Carr said, you could tell by the shape of the pelvis) and whether he thought he'd ever find out what happened to poor Susie, and Carr said We'll try to identify the bones, but we'll probably never hear the whole truth, now that Jay's dead. And maybe that’s for the best.

Who knows how many people Jay Fisher terrorized. Or how many he killed? There will be an investigation, and people will wonder, how did we miss this monster? Living right under our noses. And maybe there will even be some answers, despite what Carr thinks, but I think most of them are buried in the dirt with Jay.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your help and advice. Carrie, Kyle, and I WILL have scars from this. Not on the bone, like Susie, but deeper. And after Carrie wakes up and gets back to her normal self, I’ll think we’ll all be able to go on, despite them. +

#creepy #horror story #kidnapping #stalker #series #author: Creeping_dread #terrifying notes series

[flute--loops]

a huge list of my OCs cuz why not

2018

Blaire🌈 

Kate🌈

Maya🌈

Meghan🌈

Kirsten🌈

Aurora⚓️

Andromeda⚓️

Lolli🦸🏽‍♀️ 

Frostbite🦸🏽‍♀️

Cascade🦸🏽‍♀️

Sally🎾 

Sammy🎾

Jemma🧚🏻‍♀️ 

Red🎮 

Silver🎮

Mindy🎮

Melanie🎮

Anuja🏫 

Jarrod🏫

Bluejay🦸🏾‍♂️ 

Cardinal🦸🏾‍♂️

2019

Iaera/Ari🧞‍♀️🌎

Reyna/Rey🧞‍♀️🌎

Katherine/Kat🧞‍♀️

Amadea/Amy🧞‍♀️

Sebastian/Seb🧞‍♀️🐸

Devin/Dev🧞‍♀️🌎♠️🐸

Anuja/Jay🧞‍♀️🌎

Genesis/Gen🧞‍♀️

Tommi🧞‍♀️🌎

Obelia🧞‍♀️ 🎮

Death🧞‍♀️🌎

Life🧞‍♀️🌎

Rory🌎

Jason Sanders🌎

Gabbi❔

Stef❔

River❔

Hui❔

Yello🐸

Green🐸

Aiden🐸

Kai🐸

Gil🐸

Tenor🐸

Widget🐸

Oto🐸

2020

Unnamed 1♠️

Unnamed 2♠️

Unnamed 3♠️

Unnamed 4♠️

Venera Psychi🏡 

Azterr Sekmet🏡

Athena Virian🏡

Nayrue Latena🏡

Quinn🧠

Jacquelyn/Jackie🧠

Melanie/Mel🧠

#the emojis are what story they belong to #if any of y'all wanna send an ask about any of them I will 100% infodump #this is low-key just a ref because keeping it on a piece of paper like I had been doing is #well id lose it

[iamnotthedog]

THE HOH RAINFOREST: AUGUST 11-12, 2001

I walked up the road a ways, wondering what the hell I was doing. I felt like I could have just kept walking forever. Then, right up around the bend, I saw a sign. Leaning at a diagonal angle like an unmanned oar attached to the side of a boat was a sign that read “Dennis’s Friendly Salvage.”

I walked into the yard. By that time it was around six in the evening, so I wasn’t even sure there would be anybody there. But a big Native American fellow was behind a little shed, filling up a bucket with water from a spigot. He was wearing blue overalls with a plaid shirt, and had a braided grey and white ponytail that hung down to the small of his back. There were chickens bouncing around, clucking stupidly, and this tall, dilapidated aluminum fence was swaying and creaking in the breeze. There were car parts strewn all over the grass and the gravel lot.

I walked up to the guy and told the guy my dilemma. He introduced himself as Dennis, patted me on the back with a huge hand, then waved for me to follow him and started walking up the highway, back to the Olds. I followed him, watching his ponytail sway back and forth, and neither of us said a word. There was still smoke in the air around the car when we got to it, and it smelled like burning rubber. Dennis shook his head, lifted the hood, and checked out the engine, humming to himself in low tones.

He eventually told me the deal—said something about the radiator, and showed me a bracket that had broken in the engine, causing something—maybe the alternator—to drop, and causing the timing belt to hit the cooling fan. Something like that. I don’t really remember. But it looked bad. Surprisingly, though, he said it wasn’t a lost cause. He told me he’d tow it into the yard and fix it for three hundred bucks.

Despite the fact that it seemed as though Dennis was offering me a pretty good deal, I didn’t really feel like spending my last $300—literally all the money I had left to my name—and I didn’t feel like waiting around the salvage yard while he got the parts and fixed the Olds, anyway.

“How about if you give me $300, and I just let you keep the car?” I asked him.

Dennis put his hands on his hips and looked up at the sky, which had taken on all the colors of a sunset on the Pacific Ocean. Deep blues fading into reds, with oranges and yellows on the horizon, over the trees. Then he kicked at the dirt and clapped his big hands together and said “I’ll give you my truck for it.”

I smiled, and Dennis smiled back, knowing that he probably had me. And he did. Driving a junkyard truck with Washington plates back to Joe’s place would be worth it just for the absurdity of it all.

Dennis walked back behind the tall aluminum fence, and I heard a hood pop open and a loud engine roar to life, and then a door creaked open and slammed shut, an engine revved up, and the big Indian came cruising around the far side of the fence, out onto the highway, in a tiny blue pickup truck.

The thing was hilarious. It looked nice enough at first, but upon closer inspection it had really just been put together with spare parts from the yard. The exhaust pipe was the exhaust pipe from a car, not a truck, and poked up in the middle of the truck bed and spewed exhaust into the air, like the steam from a steam engine. And there was a sunroof in the cab, but it was just a hole cut out of the roof, and then a piece of fiberglass duct-taped over the hole. The steering wheel was huge, like it had come out of a big rig. And the upholstery on the seats looked like the kitchen rug from the house I grew up in.

“I don’t have any papers for it,” Dennis said, cutting the engine. So you’ll have to get those yourself. And here...” He leaned into the driver’s side door and grabbed a crowbar from the floorboard. “Let me show you how to start it.”

Dennis popped the hood, lifted it, and touched the pins on the starter together with the crowbar. The thing sputtered, and then started. “Pretty sweet, huh?” he said, smiling at me.

“What’s wrong with the ignition?” I asked. “There’s no key?”

“The key’s in there right now. It has to be in there for it to start. It just doesn’t turn over.”

I sat in the driver’s seat.

“Fuck,” I said.

“What?” Dennis asked.

“I don’t know how to drive stick.”

Dennis struck the same pose he had struck before: his hands on his wide hips, his face turned up to the sky. Then he walked around to the passenger side and hopped in.

“Well shit,” he said, pounding his fists on the dash. “Let’s go.”

Dennis and I drove west and south down Highway 101 through the town of Forks and inland to the Hoh Rainforest where I learned how to drive stick.1 We stuck to Highway 101 and Hoh Valley Road for the most part, but we occasionally turned off onto the narrow, fern-choked side roads to practice stopping and starting on hills, or doing three-point turnabouts in shadowy, pine-covered parking lots. Dennis was patient with me until it got dark, then he got a little salty and told me to take him home. I was still pretty jerky with the clutch, and I couldn’t get the damn thing going on steep inclines without rolling backwards quite a ways, which I saw as being a possible problem when I got back down to California and the Sierra Nevada. Sometimes rolling backwards in Yosemite will roll you right off a cliff.

“You’ll be fine,” Dennis said, his big face and pointed cheekbones shining in the dashboard lights. He patted me on the leg, then got out of the truck and went into his house without even asking me where I was going, or if I had a place to stay.

I stopped by the Olds to say goodbye to it forever and grab my pack and my book, then drove for a couple of hours back west and south to a turn-out by Kalaloch Lodge, right there on the driftwood-strewn coast, where I slept in the cab of the truck.2 The following morning, I awoke to a dark gray sky and rain pattering on the windshield. I dug through my pack for my army green hooded jacket, threw it over my head, popped the hood, grabbed the crowbar from the floorboard, and got out of the cab to start the truck. Some tourists in a van that had pulled into the parking lot to snap pictures of the rugged Pacific coast looked at me curiously, as if I was hotwiring the truck to steal it or something. I smiled at them, and lifted the crowbar over my head.

“No ignition!” I yelled. Then I jumped back in the driver’s seat and headed due south on the 101, back to Olympia.

 Forks has always been a sleepy little tourist town, serving as a central lodging and dining destination for travelers planning daytime excursions to the Pacific beaches or the rainforests on the western edge of Olympic National Park. The city’s economy was fueled by the local timber industry until the efforts of various environmental groups and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service—along with the Northern Spotted Owl’s categorization as an endangered species and President Bill Clinton’s subsequent Northwest Forest Plan—substantially reduced timber harvest in the area in the early ‘90s. The economy suffered following the local timber industry’s collapse, with most jobs being sourced by two nearby corrections centers until the success of Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight series brought tourists to the town in droves. If you can count yourselves among the few lucky ones who have never heard of Twilight, well then, allow me: Twilight is a series of four vampire-themed fantasy romance novels that concern themselves with the comings and goings of a clumsy and dim-witted girl with low self-esteem who a handsome and much more capable vampire falls in love with for some reason, anyway. The girl gets herself into all sorts of trouble and the vampire leaves because he feels like it’s his fault for some reason, and then the girl gets involved in a less steamy and more platonic relationship with another equally handsome vampire. But eventually the first vampire returns, and she sticks with him for some reason until they eventually get married and she has a half-vampire/half-human baby that I think is supposed to be a metaphor for Jesus Christ or something. I don’t know. I haven’t read any of the novels or seen the movies, I’ve only heard about them. What I’m getting at, though, is that the novels are set in Forks, and when the first movie based on the series came out in 2008, tourism rose from 10,000 annual visitors in that tiny town to 19,000. In 2010, the number was up to 73,000, and I’m sure it’s even more today, as the series’ fifth movie came out on November 16, 2012. ↩︎

 Olympic National Park is actually comprised of four separate regions: the drier forest on the east side of the park, the glaciated Olympic Mountains in the center of the park, the temperate rainforests on the western side of the park, and the sixty-mile-long, three-mile-wide stretch of coastline that runs from the Makah Indian Reservation in the north all the way down to the Quinault Indian Reservation to the south. The coastal strip of Olympic National Park is also home to two other Indian Reservations: the Hoh Indian Reservation lies at the mouth of the Hoh River, and the Quileute Indian Reservation lies at the mouth of the Quillayute River. Both reservations have been there since the Quinault Treaty of 1855, long before President Teddy Roosevelt created Mount Olympus National Monument in 1909, or before Congress voted to re-designate the monument as Olympic National Park in 1938. “Kalaloch” is a corruption of a Quinault word meaning “a good place to land,” which refers to the Pacific inlet in the community being one of the only safe places on the coastline in which to land a dugout canoe. ↩︎

#olympicpeninsula #olympicnationalpark #washington #cartrouble #oldsmobile #salvage #kalalochlodge #forks #billclinton #northwestforestplan #twilight #vampires #makah #quinault #hohrainforest #hohindianreservation #quileuteindianreservation #quinaulttreaty #teddyroosevelt #agoodplacetoland

[jansegers]

Simple English Word List

SIMPLE1540 : a simple English wikipedia word list based on the XML export of all articles related to the nine major groups: Everyday life, Geography, History, Knowledge, Language, Literature, People, Religion, and Science and retaining all word forms appearing 7 times or more in this corpus. The total number of words in this corpus is well over the 100.000 words. a A.D. ability able about above absence abstinence abstract academic academy accent accept access accord account across act action active activity actual actually ad add addition adherent adjective adult advance advice affect after again against age agnostic agnosticism ago agree agreement agriculture air alcohol all allow ally almost alone along alphabet also although always amateur amendment among amount an analysis ancient and angel animal annals anonymous another answer anthropomorphism any anyone anything aphasia appear apple apply approach archaeology architecture area argue argument around arrange art article artificial artist ask aspect associate association astronomy at atheism atheist atomic attack attempt attribute audience author authority available average avoid award away B.C. baby back background backpack bad bah balance band baptism base basic basis battle BCE be bear beautiful beauty because become bed bee before begin behavior behind being belief believe believing belong below best better between beyond bias biblical bibliography big billion biological biology birth bit black blind blood blue body book born both bottom boundary box boy brain branch bring brown buffalo build building bull burn business but by c. ca. calendar call can cancer canon capital caption car carbon card carry case cassette cat category cathedral catholic cause cell center central century cerebral certain change chapel chapter character chemical chemistry child china China choice choir choose chronicle church circumcise circumcision cite citizen city civil civilian civilization claim clan class classical cleanup clear clergy click climate close closer clothes clothing coast coauthor code codex cognitive col cold collection college colonization colony color column com come commentary commission common commonly communicate communication communion communist community companion company compare competition complete complex compose composer computer concept conception concern condition confuse confusion congregational connect connection conquer conquest consciousness consider consistent constitution construct construction contain contemporary content context continent continue contrary control convention conversation conversion convert cook cooking copy core correct could council country course court cover covered create creation credit crime critical criticism crop cross crust cultural culture current currently daily damage dark data date day dead death debt decadence decadent decide declaration decline deconstruction deep define definition deity demonstrate denomination department depth describe description design detail determinism developed development device devil diagnosis dialect dictionary die difference different difficult difficulty diphthong dipstick direct directly dirt disagree disambiguation disbelief discipline discover discovery discussion disease disorder distance distinct distinction distinguish distribution divide divine do doctor doctrine document dog don't door down Dr. dream drink drown druid due during dynasty each earlier early earth easier easily easy eat economic economics economy ed edge edit edition editor education effect eight either electric electricity electronic element elevation else emperor empire encyclopedia end energy engine engineering enlightenment enough enter entertainment environment environmental epic episode equal era error especially establish etc. etymology even event eventually ever every everyday everyone everything evidence evil evolution evolve exact exactly example except exchange exist existence expansion experience experiment expert explain explanation express expression external extinct face fact failure fair faith fall false family famous far fast father feature feel feeling female feudal few fiction field fight figure file find finding fire first fish fit five fix flow folk follow food for force foreign foreskin form formal former fortune fought foundation founded four fourth frame framework free freedom frequently friend from front fruit full function functional further future gas general generally generation genre geographer geographic geographical geography geology geometry germ get give glass global go god gold golden good government grammar great greatly green ground group grow growth guide guillotine hair half hall hand handbook handicap handle happen happens happiness happy hard have he head heading health hear heat heaven help hemisphere her here heritage hero high highly him himself his historian historical historiography history hold holy home homo hope hot hour house how however human hundred hunter hypothesis hysteresis I ice icon idea identify identity if illiteracy illiterate illusory image importance important impossible improve in inc. incense include increase indeed independence independent indigenous individual industrial industry influence information inquiry inside instead institute institution instrument instrumentation intellectual intelligence interlinear internal international internet interpretation into introduce introduction invent invention involve iron island issue it IT itself job join journal journalism judge just keep key kill kind king kingdom know knowledge la LA label lack lake lamp land landlocked landscape language large last late later law lead leader leap learn learned least leave legacy legal legend let letter level lexeme library life light lightning like likely limited line linguistic linguistics link liquid list literacy literary literature little liturgy live local location logic logical long longer look lord lore lose lot love low lower mac machine magazine magic magnetic magnum mail main mainly major make male mammal man mankind manuscript many map march March mark market mass material mathematical mathematics matter may May me mean meaning meant measure measurement meat median medical medicine medieval mediterranean medium meet member memory men mental mention mercury message metal method mid middle might migrate migration military millennium million mind minister minute misconception miss model modern modernism modernist moment money monologue monophthong month monument moon moral morality more morning most mostly mother mount mountain mouth move movement much museum music musical musicians must my myth mythology name narrative nation national nationality native natural naturalism naturally nature near nearly necessarily necessary need negative neither neologism network neurogenesis neuron neuroscience never new news newspaper next night nine no non none nor normal normally not note nothing noun novel now nuclear number object objective objectivity observation observe occupation occur ocean octane of off offer office official officially often oil old older on once one online only open opera opposite or oral orbit order org organization organize origin original originally orthography orthology other others our out outer outside over own oxygen p. pack pagan page paint palace paper paradigm parent parish park part participant particular particularly party pas pass past pasta pattern pay peace peer penguin penis people per percent percentage perception performance perhaps period peroxide persecution person personal personality perspective persuasion pet phenomenon philosopher philosophical philosophy phoneme phonetic phonetics photo phrase physic physical picture piece pilgrimage place plan planet plant plat plate play please poem poems poet poetry point pole police policy political politics polytheism polytheistic popular population position positive possession possible possibly post power powerful pp. practical practice praise pray prayer precise predict prediction prehistory present preserve press prevent priest primary principle print printing private probably problem process produce product production professional program project pronounce pronunciation proof property prophet propose prose proselytism protection protein provide province psychological psychology public publication publish publisher publishing punishment pure purpose put pyramid quantum question quickly quite quote race racial rack radiation radio rain range rate rather read reader real realism reality really reason receive recent recently reclamation recognize record recreation red ref refer reference referred reform reformation regard region reign rejection relate relation relationship relatively relativity reliable relic religion religious remain remember remove renaissance replace report republic request require research researcher resource respect response result resurrection retrieve return revelation revert review revision revival revolution rhetoric rich right rise ritual river rock role room royal rule ruled ruler run rural sacred sacrifice safe saga sage saint salad same sample satellite saw say schizophrenia scholar school science scientific scientist scope sea search second secondary section secular see seek seem selection self sense sent sentence separate sequence series service set seven several sexual shall shaman shape share she short should show shrine side sign significant silence similar simple simply since single situation six size skill skin slavery sleep slightly slow small smell smith snake so social society sociology soft soil solar soldier solid soliloquy some someone something sometimes song soon sortable sound source space speak speaker special specie specific speech speed spell spirit spiritual spirituality split sport spread square st. stage stain standard star start state statement station statistic statistical statue status stick still stone stop story strange strap strong structure struggle stub student study stutter style subject successful such sugar suggest sun sung sunlight superior superiority supernatural support suppose supreme sure surface survey surveyor sushi sustainability sustainable sweat symbol symbolic system table take talk tam tan task teach teacher teaching technique technology tectonics teeth tell temperature template temple ten term terminology territory tertiary test testament text textual than thank that the their theism them themselves then theology theoretical theory therapy there therefore thesaurus these they thick thing think third this those though thought thousand three through throughout thumb thus ticket tight time title to today together toilet tolerance toleration tongue too tool top topic total towards tower trade tradition traditional train translation transport travel treat treatment tree trench trial tribe tried trig true truth try turn twentieth twenty two type typical typically ultimate ultraviolet under understand understood union unit united universal universe university unknown unsortable until up upon upper urban urbanization usage use useful usually valley value van vandalism various vassal vegetable verb verbal verse version very video view violence virgin visit vitamin vocabulary voice vol. volume vowel vs. wale wall want war warm warmer wash waste water wave way we weak wealth wear weather web website weight well what when where whether which while white who whole whom whose why wide widely wild wilderness will window wisdom wise witch witchcraft with within without witness woman word work worker world worship would write writer writing wrong yam year yellow you young your

China, March and May made this list because china, march and may are on it and I didn't want to decide in favor of the common noun or the proper noun; all other proper nouns have been omitted (even the ten other months that met the criterium of appearing more then 6 times). #SimpleWikipedia #SimpleEnglish #wordlist #English #words #level1540 #Inli #nimi #selo1540

#SimpleWikipedia SimpleEnglish wordlist English words level1540 Inli nimi selo1540