Epiphany - Staind

Signing in...

I felt like getting something out... but couldn't think of how. While not perfect, this song kinda voices how I'm feeling... how I've felt a lot in the past few months, though for different reasons. It's an excellent song. There's lyrics in the video.

...signing out.

Last Day of the Month

Signing in...

I hate the last day of the month. There's a million things that I have to check and double-check on before midnight hits... did I pay my bills? Did I make my deposit into my savings account? Did I apply for all the scholarships I could? Are there are other things I'm forgetting? The last day of the month is almost never an enjoyable day... but more of just a stressful one... and so I can't wait for midnight.

I'm a have-no-regrets kind of person. If I for instance didn't get something done this month that I was suppose to, once midnight hits, it doesn't matter. Sure, I'll be disappointed with myself. Sure I'll make sure to try to learn from it. But what is passed is past. No sense in brooding over it. Rather, I'm free again to be me... the guy who just likes to "go with the flow".

I feel like I've done a really good job of getting a number of things accomplished these past few days while at the same time keeping my stress levels down. (I can't stand stress. It becomes more than just a mental problem for me.) Still, today just feels overwhelming, even though I don't feel like there really is much else for me to get done. So I just want it to be over.

Over the past couple months, in tune with that "go with the flow" thought process, I've started to appreciate each moment and each day... rather than wistfully think of the future or ache for the past. As a result (and do to several other factors), I've become a much happier person over as of late. That being said, I still can't wait for midnight.

I'm good at being a hypocrite to my beliefs.

So how about you guys? Is the end of the month always stressful for you too? Is it a different day? For that matter, do you go with the flow like I do or are you more a scheduled kind of person? Well, anyway, thanks for reading. =)

P.S. I hope you like/don't mind the minor changes to the blog.

...signing out.

Daily Blogs and Thoughts on a Couple of Series

Signing in...

From this point on, I'm thinking that I might start posting daily. Doing so will make for some writing exercise and an opportunity to stretch my brain a bit. It will also keep my blog from filling up completely with oppressive thoughts.

I was gonna use the word garish where I used oppressive... then I realized that I would be completely misusing the word.

Garish is a funny word.

I've started rereading two different series. In both cases, I've read the first two books, but never got around to the third.

The first series is the Inheritance Cycle. I remember reading both Eragon and Eldest and enjoying both books, but they didn't exactly impress upon me like some other books did when I was in middle school. I'm now close to 100 pages into Eragon and I can definitely see why the books were a little less impressive to me. The book is rather obviously written by a novice writer. It lacks a certain amount of depth, or rather, doesn't portray character feelings well enough. It fails to flow and grow correctly. One example of what I found lacking was how Eragon adapted to the idea of talking to Saphira in his head. It was like he just suddenly knew what to do... too much like a kid's cartoon. Hah. (Note: I'm not saying this as a writer, but as a critical reader. I don't assume to be a better writer.) Christopher Paolini was only fifteen when he started on Eragon and was nineteen when he initially got it published, so this isn't much of a surprise. I'm interested to see how much the writing style and ability changes between Eragon and Eldest... and then if it changes even more in Brisingr. I'll be sure to post about it once I'm finished with all three.

The other series I'm rereading is The Bartimaeus Trilogy. These books, unlike The Inheritance Cycle, had a strong impression on me when I was younger. I remember finding Bartimaeus's personality and comments, both within the text and in the form of footnotes, to be highly entertaining. I remember also finding the main protagonist, Nathaniel, to be very likable. I'm currently only 30 pages into The Amulet of Samarkand, but I can already see what made these stories so enchanting. The writing is clearly on a different level than that of Eragon. It feels much less forced and I was swept into the events and the mystery of the story much more quickly. Even at page 90 of Eragon, it still feels somewhat blaa, even though a considerable amount of exciting events have already occurred. I can say that I'm much more inclined to read The Amulet of Samarkand than I am to read Eragon.

On the subject of good books, there's a whole bunch of different stories, both in the form of single novels and series, that I could recommend, but I think I'll save that for a future post. If you're looking for something to read now, though, I do recommend The Bartimaeus Trilogy. If you've read it already... then read it again. Or wait for my future post. Try The Sea of Trolls by Nancy Farmer.

Anyway, thanks for reading my post, now go read a book.

...signing out.

Happiness and... Other Stuff

Signing in...

Looking back at my posts, I don't exactly come off as very cheerful, do I? Well I'm here to reassure you that I'm a happy person. =) This becomes an outlet for my emotions... and as a result, most of what is posted is kinda depressing.

But no worries, I'm happy.

Even though I'm in the middle of trying to make a decision... possibly the most difficult one I've come across yet.

Not that it's a depressing decision, but it's difficult. I mean, you establish one train of thought for yourself when suddenly you're diverging into a whole other though process. The problem with logic is that much to often, emotions get in the way. I guess that's what makes us human... emotions are such a loose thing. I mean, they say to "follow your heart" but I feel like following your heart and following your emotions are two very different things, but despite that, sometimes it's hard to differentiate between the two.

It feels, shallow I guess, to simply follow my emotions... it doesn't feel true to myself I s'pose. That being said, emotions are by no means a bad thing. Emotions are very important. We should pay attention to them, but to what extent. What should and shouldn't I sacrifice to my emotions?

See? It's that balance between logic and emotion that is so difficult to find.

Sounds like something I should be taking to God, ya?

...signing out.

A Rough Outline of What Kind of Novel I'd Write

Signing in...

I feel like the best stories have a good balance of action, romance, and comedy. A story that focuses purely on only one of these aspects always, in my opinion, falls short of one that can properly mix the three. Action keeps the story moving, romance is the best for emotionally investing a reader, and comedy keeps the story from getting too serious... and besides, any good story is better if it made the reader/viewer laugh some.

For a good story, of course, a good plot is very important, but the key is the characters. A plot can be ingenious but it won't have near the impact if the reader can't become attached to the characters. The plot should evolve around the characters, not the other way around. Otherwise, it won't feel natural.

I believe that involving developments in the psyche of the characters is essential. The reader needs to be able to see what is driving the characters... all of the characters. This definitely includes the villain. One of the ways in which many stories lack is that the villain is not developed well enough. We realize that in the majority of stories, the villain doesn't believe that he is evil. We realize that it comes down to point of view. Unfortunately, we rarely ever figure out exactly what truly is driving the villain. Sure, we find out what exactly the villain's objective is and his reasoning for why he wants it... but we don't often find out what the real driving force is. We need inside his mind to truly understand the story as a whole.

So on that idea, the majority of this post is gonna outline the key characters I would have in my ideal novel... actually this is more of an ideal series of novels, cus there would be a considerate amount of development.

Main Protagonist. For me, the main protagonist will almost always be a guy. This is because I know I will never be able to write a female main protagonist near as well as I could a male. He is definitely far from perfect... and throughout the story he will struggle with his imperfections, but he will overcome them. This will be the main aspect that will differentiate him from "The Best Friend". At some point, he will be hindered by something that he will have to not only overcome, but harness to make him stronger. This could be either psychological or physical. Think of Venom from Spiderman... Venom made Peter stronger, but Peter couldn't control it. Eventually, he overcame it, but that's where he screwed up. He gave it up. He should have learned to control it and use the power that once cursed him. A few relationships that the main protagonist has with characters will have already been established, but many will form during the story. The ones that were already established will develop substantially. Essentially, everything in the story is connected to this one person... he is what the story rides on. This character in most cases cannot die, and if he does die, it is as the very end of the story. The story can't attempt to climax without him. If the story spans a long amount of time, then it is possible to kill this character with the intention of having a different character rise to the position of main protagonist... the new character must have adequate time to establish his place as the new main protagonist though before the story wraps up.

Main Heroine. This is the woman that the main protagonist falls in love with. (No love triangles thank you very much. There can be a little bit of love competition, but that's it... love triangles are so aggravating and at this point, very cliche.) She is attractive. Not in a sexy way but a more simple way. Her personality is very likable and she is very strong in her moral beliefs. She isn't helpless but contributes to the effort... but not so much that she is more important than the main protagonist. She must rely on the main protagonist multiple times, but at the same time, the main protagonist must end up relying on her a time or two. She likely will die. This will be the most trying point for the main protagonist as well as one of the most emotionally straining points of the story. It all goes back to how much emotion you can pull from the reader.

The Best Friend. This character is quite possibly more important to the story than the main protagonist. This is the person the Main Protagonist trusts more than anyone else in the world. Their relationship is either already established or established very early on. More than just friends, they are like brothers and are able to work together, kid with each other, and cry with each other. The best friend will be initially actually more likable than the main protagonist and have a good sense of humor. (You can't take a main protagonist seriously enough if he is also the main joker.) Like the main protagonist, he will fall in love with a woman who the readers also come to know well. This woman may even be the main heroine. (This would be the primary case of where friendly love competition would come into play. I'm not sure this would work out well enough though with how I would continue the best friend's development.) At the beginning of the story, this character would be fairly light hearted, and as I said, the source of many of the story's jokes. As the reality of what's going on in the story starts to set in, the best friend will slowly start to turn colder. The real shift won't occur until about midway through the story though, when the woman the Best Friend loved dies. Furthermore, this death won't be caused directly by the enemy, but rather as an indirect result of one of the main protagonist's faults. At this point the reader will experience the best friend's decent into anger, hatred, and madness. (Harvey Dent anyone? Less sudden than Harvey Dent though, and of course, the reader would be more invested in the best friend than most were with Harvey Dent. I mean, honestly, who cared when he died at the end of the Dark Knight?) The best friend will come out of this decent as a mere shadow of what he was. Driven by a twisted justice code (um, Harvey Dent again?), he'll have a personal vendetta against the Main Protagonist. (If the main protagonist were to die, it would be to this character.) The best friend at this point becomes the Antihero. By no means the main villain, he becomes someone the reader slowly grows to hate. Due to their past experience with the character though, the reader will always want the antihero to turn good again. But, unfortunately, it won't happen... and eventually, he'll die... to the hand of someone he once called a friend. This will be the most heart-wrenching series of the events the entire story offers.

Main Villain. As mentioned earlier, there is more to this character than the mere fact that he is the bad guy. Most likely, there will be periodic flashbacks into the character to show how he developed into the person he is in the story. The flashbacks would probably even show his childhood, where the reader won't be able to help liking the villain a little. These flashbacks will serve the purpose of showing exactly who the main villain and why he is doing what he is, but won't do enough to evoke a real sense of pity for him. The main villain must die. A story just can't wrap up perfectly enough if the villain gets to live. That also means the villain can't become good. That's just anti-climatic.

Minor Villain. Some people will hate this guy more than the main villain.

Minor Heroine. If the main heroine dies, to both the minor heroine's and the main protagonist's surprise, she will be the one to mend his broken heart. The minor heroine cannot die. Then the story just becomes plain depressing.

That's the characters that would have to be present for my story. There could be other essential characters, but they course they take throughout the story is a little less defined.

Everything is of course very flexible. Like I said, the characters shape the story... and the story evolves around them... if I were writing and realized that something is evolving differently than I initially imagined, well then so be it.

There cannot be senseless killing of characters. There's a fine line between keeping the story practical and making it dumb because a character that shouldn't have died ended up dying. In Star Wars, Obi-Wan died and Chewbaka didn't. That made sense. Killing Chewbaka would not have made the story more practical... it would have made it senseless. You just don't kill off a character like Chewbaka. In the Hunger Games trilogy, at the end there is a senseless killing. It was not expected in the slightest and with how many people had already died, was completely senseless. Anyone who has read the series should know what I'm talking about. That kind of thing does not evoke emotion from the reader but rather just makes the reader angry with the author for ruining the story. Another perhaps better know example is when the girl dies in Bridge to Terribithia. YOU DONT KILL A PRETTY LITTLE GIRL IN A STORY LIKE THAT. Geez. (I realize that the story is a tribute to a girl who died tragically like the girl did in the story, but I don't care. Write the tribute differently or something, but that was completely uncalled for.) Obviously I hate Bridge to Terribithia.

So that's the idea. There's more I'm sure, but I'm tired. Thanks for reading.

...signing out.

Home

Signing in...

Home. I don't exactly feel like I really have one. Home is much different than a house. I have a house. The place where I live on a regular basis... but a home? I'm not sure.

Ever heard the phrase "Home is where the heart is"? Well, my heart is definitely not at my current living residence. I told a friend earlier: "I miss the people who believe in me."

I have lied to my parents. On multiple occasions. Why do I lie to them? It's not that I'm trying to avoid getting in trouble. I can deal with that. Honestly, I think I simply want to avoid conflict. I also want to prove myself. I have no chance to prove myself if I'm constantly being checked in on. Of course, it's a little ironic that I'm trying to prove myself by lying...

I don't think I'm probably making any real sense. At least, what I'm trying to really say isn't prolly getting across.

Aa, this isn't helping.

...signing out.

Some Days I Feel Like I'm Going Insane

Signing in...

Today was not one of those days, mind you. (Actually, I guess I should say yesterday, since it's 2:17 in the morning.) Ahh, I take that back... in the way I'm about to explain, it was one of those days.

I probably am actually going insane. I'll end up in an asylum by the time I'm 50. I say more and more strange things... do more and more strange things when I don't have 100% control over my mind. This is often when I'm tired. That's the "crazy" kid that most people see... the tired one... the one who's not really thinking cus he's half asleep. It used to be entertaining. That was when it was more under control. Now it's just strange. I think I often freak people out. It's not a side of me that I'm particularly ashamed of. But I don't know if I like it.

I mean, for most of my life I've been the crazy, strange kid. But that was crazy and strange in a good way. This is... less of a good way.

I'm not worried about that though. I mean, it's whatever I guess. If I scare people away, that's life I guess. If I get made fun of for it, well, I'm use to being made fun of. Hell, I make fun of myself half the time.

I go insane in a completely different way when I lose control of my mind in other ways. Anger. Emotional trauma. Complete lack of sleep, not just a little bit of drowsiness or exhaustion. I lose sense of what's true and what's not true. I'm not sure who I am or who the people around me are. (Not in an amnesia kind of way.) I become overwhelmed by... well I don't know what... it starts to show physically. Through pain... through body movements. Whatever.

I don't know where I'm going with this.

I often sing when I'm not in a proper state of mind. There's a particular tune I often use... I'm not sure if it's a real one or if I made up. I actually think it's a real tune that I contorted. I'll make up words for it. Often just narrate what I'm doing. Something before me... "Chicken broth. Chicken broth with carrots. Chicken broth with carrots. Chicken broth with chicken. Chicken broth with noodles. Chicken broth with carrots. Nice, soft carrots..."

I like carrots but it's not like I have a particular obsession with them.

Don't bother me.

Here's a link to a nice eerie cover of "Sweet Dreams" that Emily Browning for the movie Sucker Punch (which is coming out today... hell ya for working at a theater and getting to see movies the night before they release.) Anyway, it's fantastic. I'm gonna be grabbing this soundtrack tomorrow morning. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OcxRtLpkAkQ

.... "Some of them want to use you... some of them want to be used by you. Some of them want to abuse you... some of them want to be abused by you...."

....signing out.

I Was Always Pretty Good At Hide and Seek

Signing in...

I was excellent at hiding. I was rarely the seeker due to my hiding skill. The problem always came when the game would drag on for a little too long. There's only so many good hiding spots, and eventually, all of those end up being figured out. Taking the bad hiding spots is kind of lame. Like you want to be found. But then, sometimes you kind of do. I mean, as the game drags on, it certainly does start to get boring... sitting all alone.

I have less patience for the game now. And sometimes I make it too easy to be found. Sometimes, even though I'm suppose to be hiding, I leave a trail. I leave hints. So that I can be found. Even though I know that defeats the purpose.

I'd say it's cus hiding gets lonely. And no wants to be alone. But I'm not suppose to come out of my hiding spot. That's not the way it's suppose to be. It'd ruin the game... it'd ruin everything.

...signing out.

Insomnia and a Poem

Signing in...

So it's er... 2:36 in the morning and, like most nights, I'm still awake... quickly growing lonely. Even my cats are sleeping. Aren't they s'pose to be nocturnal?

Actually, I'm pretty sure they sleep 20 hours a day. They're awake for like 2 hours in the early morning... just when I'm falling asleep... and 2 during the afternoon.

I love those cats. They're awake a little more than that. Although I'm looking at my bed right now and seeing the sunlight shining in on a sleeping kitty in the middle of the afternoon.

Looking again, it's still nighttime.

2:40 in the morning.

I'm listening to some Rise Against, Skillet, Anberlin, Goo Goo Dolls, and a few others.

I've got the wind blowing in through my south window onto my back. It feels nice cus I'm hot otherwise.

I'm drinking a root beer. It's prolly not the best thing for helping me to sleep, what with the sugar, but at least there's no caffeine. Soda is one of my top stress relievers... relaxants... whatever. So, I made an executive decision and opened one up... As I do most nights.

You know, I probably drink at least three cans of soda a day. I guess you can probably call that an addiction. Yeah, I guess it's definitely an addiction, but it's not one I really feel like breaking. I mean, I don't feel like I exactly need to.

Just spilled my root beer. *sigh*

2:54

Spilled it on one of my favorite tee shirts. That's what I get for leaving it on the floor. I suppose it will clean.

Listening to "Dance, Dance Christa Paffgen". Fairly certain I've mentioned the song before. Good song. "Fin" is better though.

I wiped the root beer up with undershirts, by the way, hah. I dunno... guess I thought that was kinda funny. Not that I'm laughing.

Just finished the root beer... not all of it spilled out. Although the floor, and in turn the tee shirts, still got most of it.

I've had to start buying my own soda and keeping it in my room. My "secret stash" per say. My mom no longer complains about our family going through the soda at a ridiculously fast pace.

I always knew it was me.

Although I drink more soda now than I use to. Probably cus I feel less guilty about it now that I've bought it.

I seem to keep going back to the soda some way or another.

This has got to be getting boring.

Here then, I wrote this poem something like a week ago and I've decided that I like it. Ever listened to "The Autumn Effect" by 10 Years? Fantastic band. Anyway, inspiration for this poem came from that song. If you wanna listen, I recommend the piano version, although the original is still very good. I could only find live performances of it on Youtube though, fyi. Of course, more directly, inspiration came from Genesis 28: 11-19

Jacob's Ladder

Jacob, explain

how to travel this path because...

I'm afraid of getting deeper

as I'm falling, falling, falling

And the path is getting steeper

as I'm falling, falling, falling

I can't find those who are screaming

as I'm falling, falling, falling

And can't even hear the singing

as I'm falling, falling, falling

I've no sight of where I'm going

as I'm falling, falling, falling

See these weights that I am towing?

as I'm falling, falling, falling

Tell me how to climb this ladder

with my falling, falling, falling

Tell me, does it even matter?

I'll keep falling, falling, falling.

...signing out.

Undead Things Crawling All Over the Place

...or something like that.

Signing in...

Here's something I wrote simply cus I could. It's based on me and my friends when zombies attack. Everyone dies. (Just kidding.) Go read it.

The dead person climbing in through the now-broken window of his parent’s bedroom: that was Sam’s immediate problem.

Note the word immediate.

The reanimated police officer started trudging towards Paul, the closer of the two of them.

“Um, Sam?” Paul stuttered, at a loss for words.

This was a human being. Although neither of them personally knew the woman, there was no mistaking that this thing was definitely a human.

It reached out for Paul, who tried pushing it back, but it grabbed Paul’s arm and started pulling it towards its mouth.

“She’s strong!” Paul yelled, struggling to keep his arm. The zombie gnashed its teeth, inches from Paul’s flesh. No more hesitation. Sam swung; cleanly taking the undead’s head off of its body. The body immediately collapsed on the hard-wood floor. Staring at that body, Sam began to wretch.

“Could you help me with this?” asked Paul, breathing heavily as he tried to pry the dead woman’s hand off of his arm.

“Er, sure.” Sam dug his fingers underneath the zombie’s fingers. “Are the girls and my mom upstairs?”

A relatively loud snap signified breaking bones, and the hand slid away from Paul’s arm. Rubbing it, he replied, “Yeah. Keith’s with them.”

“Does he-”

“Listen!” hissed Paul.

A gentle moaning wafted in through the broken window.

“Sounds like this one,” whispered Paul, motioning to the dead zombie on the ground.

“Shit.”

“Can we block the windows?”

“Those windows are triple-pained, I believe,” replied Sam. “Anything we do won’t last long.” He looked around briefly and sighed. “We have too many damn windows anyway.”

“So what are you suggesting? Do we run?”

“I dunno where’s safe and where’s not. I know my house, though. We’ll fight them off from here. Unless you have a better idea?”

“Not exactly,” replied Paul.

“Okay, you take that gun and stay in this room. You have the best view of the street from here.” Paul hesitantly removed the 9mm from the officer’s holster and sighted it. Paul laughed, “We’d joke about how we’d be ready for a zombie invasion. Not sure I like it now.”

Sam smiled. “Good luck. Hope all that Halo and Call of Duty pays off.”

“Sam, I can already see one. It’s not heading for your house though.” Sam looked out the window.

“Shit.”

“What?”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.”

“What?”

Ignoring Paul, Sam ran out into the great room. “JESSIE!” he yelled. “Call Molly and grab me your bow and arrows!”

Quickly, he ran back into his parent’s room. “Paul, I am counting on you to defend this house. Okay? Just for a little while.” Paul nodded and Sam left, running up to the second floor. The moment he reached the top, Kelly wrapped her arms around him.

“Now’s not the time, Kelly.”

"Ew, Kelly!" Keith said. Sam laughed.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she said as she let go. Jessie and Keith stood nearby. Jessie handed Sam the bow and arrows as she waited for their neighbor and her best friend, Molly, to pick up.

“Put it on speaker,” Sam told his younger sister, setting the weapon down on the futon in his room.

“What’s going on?,” Keith demanded. Sam held up a hand.

“In a sec. Look, I may need your help here in a minute.” Molly’s voice came on over the phone as Sam peered out his room’s window.

“Jessie!” exclaimed Molly. “Are you okay? This man came in but he was acting funny and he bit Sugar and-“

Sam yelled into the phone. “Where’s the man now? Has anyone besides Sugar been hurt?”

“N-no,” she stuttered. “Ben hit him over the head with a skillet. He’s not moving.”

“Good. Get as far away from him as possible. Don’t go outside. We’re coming to get you guys. Stay away from Sugar too. How is she?”

“She’s licking her bite.”

“I need your phone,” Sam said to Jessie. Turning it back off speaker, he held it up to his ear and continued. “We’re gonna be there soon. I’m gonna stay on the line. Let me know if anything changes.”

“So, what the hell are we doing?” asked Keith.

“Keen on going out there?” asked Sam, handing the phone to him. “Listen, will ya?”

Keith took it. “Guess so. What are they?”

“Zombies?” shrugged Sam as he started climbing a ladder into a miniature loft in his room. “At least, that’s kinda what I hope they are. Otherwise…” he trailed off as he paused and looked down to where the body of the policewoman would be one floor below. He crawled into his loft, a small space above his sister’s closet, which neighbored his own room. Jessie had a near identical loft in her room which was built above his own closet. Reaching into a space where the floor of the loft and the wall did not quite meet, he pulled out a box of 9mm bullets. He handed it down to Keith.

“Give this box to Paul downstairs. Please don’t ask questions right now. I’ll meet you down there.”

Keith’s eyes widened but he did not say anything. After he left the room, Sam pulled out another box of identical ammo and dropped 8 rounds into his pocket. Then he pulled out a gun. AS he climbed back down the ladder, his mom spoke up for the first time.

“Where did you get that?” she demanded.

“Now’s not the time, Mom.” Speaking to all the girls now, he continued, “Stay up here. No matter what, don’t go down the stairs. If you need to escape, go through the windows and get away through the back. Jessie, that bow is your best defense, but don’t be hasty to use it. The best thing you all can do right now is stay calm. We don’t know what’s going on right now. Oh, and try contacting Dad please. I’ll be back soon.”

He turned to go down stairs, but Kelly stopped him. Before she could say anything, he cut her off. “I have to go and I have to go now. Bye for now. I love you.”

Downstairs, Sam approached Paul and Keith back in his parent’s room. “Paul. I’m leaving protection of the house and the girls to you. Keith and I will be back soon with a few more people. Have you seen anymore?”

“Yeah, none have come this way, though. They headed towards other houses.”

“Damn. Well, we’ll be back soon. Good luck.”

Handing his gun to Keith, Sam hefted the axe over his shoulder. “It’s called a High Point C9 Compact. It’s a cheap gun but it works well and is entirely American made.” Pulling out the bullets that he had slid into his pocket earlier, he handed them also to Keith as he continued, “That’s enough rounds for another clip, giving you sixteen shots total. Just cus I’ve got more ammo upstairs doesn’t mean we should waste it. Let’s go.”

Keith nodded and the two of them headed towards the front door of the house. Back on the phone, Sam said, “Molly, can you put Ben on the phone?”

“Yeah.” After a pause, Ben’s voice came over shakily, “Hey Sam.”

“Hey Ben, we’re coming. Just hold tight.”

...signing out.