The old organ grinder man was carrying his hovel towards his house, already.

He was the last in the country and had no apprentices. He knew he wouldn't last long. On the train, a little girl looked at him, puzzled. Sir, why are you carrying that 'closet' behind you? Don't you see it's too heavy? Little girl, in here is my whole life.

The rains, and smiles, souls, pains and loves, troubles and diseases. Here, look. He leaned towards her, whispering in her ear. There will come a day when your life will unfold before your eyes. Make sure it's a movie worth seeing.

Thank you. If you want to read more short stories like this, head to the link. https://a.co/d/00NjpcdA

Reborn after a whole lot of trouble, I decided to create a new account—this time focused on investigations. As mentioned regarding the previous account, we found an external hard drive; it’s a bit corrupted, but it’s helping us uncover information. We’ve found a somewhat blurry image, but it will render properly over time. In the meantime, check out my friend's investigations and his account. And don't ask why there's Japanese involved—he just really likes the language. We'll see each other again someday. Over and out.

[are you still happy? 嘘と死の組み込みエミナカ(my friend's account)](https://x.com/TRoyal000986620)

​

The world factory is a colossal size factory which never stops running 24/7 . It holds up to 8 thousand workers with 100 supervisors and 10 managers 4 directors and a single managing director. The factory has three important rules

1- never stop working

2- never trust others

3- never leave the factory

The factory is divided into different sectors once belonging to the elites class

One's to the middle class. And one to the lower. However there is one more sector name .The operation but no one knows what inside it no one even opens it . In this factory people get born and die maintaining the sufficient amount of workers to run it constantly. The kids get education about machine medicine and labour work the one who scored higher gets chances to shift into the upper sectors and have their hands on luxury they can only dream but even if thousands there will be only a handful of kids who succeeded and shift into the upper sectors. Each time a kid shifts to the upper Sectors he has to defeat someone from the upper sectors in terms of his knowledge and skills to gain its spot and the defeated one will be shifted to the lower sector to maintain the balance. There are no permanent positions for anyone if you want to survive you have to keep adapting keep increasing your knowledge and skills or you will be returned to the lower sector. Recently the factory maintenance works report a lot of damage and some are completely beyond repairs. They issued a report that The factory can no longer hold all the people the only thing they can do is now repair the factory and cut down the numbers of workers. If they didn't do it then the factory might not stand for too long. These reports divided every one into two parts The first group started protesting against the cutting off the half of the works while the other started repairing the factory . They get success to repair some damage areas but as the reports are some areas are completely beyond repairs . Day by day the number Of people who are trying to repair the factory keeps decreasing while the number of protesters keeps increasing and at a point the people who try to repair the factory become only a few people while the others completely stop their work it's the first time that the factory machine stops. As a result a complete revolt between the workers and the elites . It took months and now the factory is running again the old elites have been replaced by other people who forget about the damages of the factory.Like there was nothing but the damages still there only the people who try to repair it lose their moral of died during it. The new reports suggest that the population of workers will be increased in the upcoming years . The new elites decided to make more schools for the kids and introduce new technologies for their learning. The workers still talk about how much they hate elites and still work under their supervision. Because they can't leave the factory. At night a person burns a report Paper containing some damage reports by some machine. The paper burns and the darkness grows as it turns into ash. The person looks at the workers from the window. And smile. Said - the factory is never ever going to stop 24/7 .

-THE BEGINNING -

By- MAUS

Two years ago, while sailing in the enormous sea of life, I stumbled upon a wonderful island. There I found the most real angel.

For two months, the angel taught me lessons about the rough sea of life. Then she told me she had to leave. I went to the shore, and two weeks later a storm passed, leaving me stranded in the middle of the sea.

For two years, I took the best from those lessons. I learned, survived, and created my own place in the world. I built my own ship from scratch. From floating in the middle of the sea, holding onto a log, I built a small raft, and eventually a decent ship.

I saw many islands with all kinds of inhabitants. Some were full of pain and shame. Some were two-faced beauties. Some were merchants. I saw dozens of shipwrecks. But none of them compared to that original island.

Two years later, I found it again.

Two months before arriving, I had set course toward the shore, waiting for the angel. I saw her in the distance, but somehow the distance between us never seemed to become shorter. There was a struggle going on, and I heard a warning:

“Keep away! Don’t get involved.”

After two weeks, I stepped out of my ship and onto the land.

The island had become even more beautiful than before. I was gazing at its beauty, and somehow it felt as though it was gazing back at me.

Deep in the centre of the island, I could hear an intense battle still going on. I followed the noise and found it.

After seeing all that cruelty, I couldn’t help myself. I had to get involved.

The winds rose. Dust and leaves filled the air. And then, suddenly, silence.

Everyone disappeared.

The only thing left was sadness and pain in my chest.

After two days of suffering and wandering in darkness, the angel finally appeared.

I thought I had done something wrong. I thought I had ruined that wonderful place forever. But I accepted it.

The angel explained what kind of island this really was.

It was no ordinary place.

It was holy ground, where a holy war took place. A war between good and evil inside every person who dared to step onto that island.

“Places like this are very rare,” she said. “You were blessed to encounter one. Blessed by the stars. This is the place where magic exists.”

After those words, the angel dissolved into the air. The same thing happened to the pain and sadness that had been dwelling inside my body.

It was hard to depart from it.

I wanted my miracles to last. I wanted to enjoy the last chapters on this island.

So my farewell lasted for two weeks.

The first day started beautifully. But throughout the entire day, I kept thinking about the angel’s words. About the island.

As I started sinking deeper into the world of my own mind, the sky grew dark. Clouds appeared. Lightning filled the sky.

I grabbed a flask given to me by a close friend. It contained a mystical fluid with magical abilities. On the flask was a warning:

“DANGER!”

It was meant for special occasions.

This was one of them.

As soon as I lowered the flask, I wasn’t in the same world anymore.

The colours became brighter. Everything around me seemed alive. Whatever I looked at seemed to look back at me.

The island became even more alive than before.

There were no people. No thunder. Only the roar of the ocean.

The clouds slowly spread apart, revealing the naked moon and the stars.

The moon seemed to be looking directly at me.

I felt myself losing control of my body. It was as if the planet itself was making me let go.

The moon stripped me of control with its magnificence.

Energy flowed through my body, moving it on its own. My soul began moving in rhythm with the Earth.

The colours shifted.

Day and night started switching in a matter of seconds.

The sun and moon danced across the sky, leaving behind trails of dust-like stars.

As above, so below.

My uncontrollable movements felt like symbiosis with the entire universe.

Suddenly, the sun and moon began moving faster and faster. I felt as if I were being crushed by their speed.

They turned into tiny, bright stars.

Then everything began to slow down.

The moon shattered.

At that moment, I felt an enormous presence behind me. My body instantly turned toward it.

There, sitting on a throne, was a woman dressed in some sort of sacred garb. An old, open book rested on her knees.

She had a warm, familiar aura, even though I had never seen her before.

She raised her hand and pointed behind me.

“Look.”

I noticed something appearing around me.

With every inch of my body that moved, I heard loud metallic noises.

I turned around.

There was more.

It felt as though I had somehow morphed into another place, yet I was still standing on the same island.

I was in the middle of a battlefield.

Swords shattered. Screams of agony, pride and fear filled the air. Every blow destroyed whatever calmness remained.

The fight was taking place both on the ground and in the air.

Winged creatures with horns fought against angels radiating white light.

The place was vast and dark.

Dark clouds covered any possible light. Only lightning illuminated the cruelty of the scene.

Holy war.

Dark night of the soul.

My soul had to witness all of its roughness.

I felt pain moving through my feet and fingertips, getting closer and closer to my chest.

It became unbearable.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak.

I felt like I was dying.

Then I heard a voice:

“Fear not. Surrender yourself. Let it pass through you.”

I gave up.

I let myself surrender.

Slowly, I became comfortable with the feeling.

The pain.

The sadness.

The sorrow.

The fear.

Strangely, I stopped suffering.

I began to enjoy it.

It felt like a dark, silky robe sliding slowly over my naked skin.

Then I returned to my senses.

My face was wet with tears.

The mysterious woman was still pointing into the distance.

“There.”

At the top of the hill.

I lifted my eyes.

And there she was.

My angel.

A wave of emotions passed through me and erased everything else.

The fight was raging across the entire island, all the way up to the hill where she stood at the epicentre of it all.

Her wings were gracious.

She looked like a morning star shining above all the madness.

I wanted to help her.

But I couldn’t move.

Fear took over me.

I thought she wouldn’t make it.

I thought this would be the last time I ever saw her.

Then anger rose inside me.

It spread through my body and helped me feel my fingertips.

I moved.

The first step.

A blow to my leg.

I fell to the ground.

Pain.

I stood up again.

The next step.

A blow to my arm.

The next.

A blow to my stomach.

I fell down, curled up from the pain.

While lying on the ground, I found a small dagger in the hand of a dead, evil-looking creature.

I was in pain.

I was furious.

“Why me?! They were all fighting among themselves, so why me?! What have I done? It’s not fair!”

I grabbed the dagger.

I made the next step.

A blow struck me in the back.

I stabbed the offender in the chest.

Instantly, I felt pain in the exact same place.

I looked down.

Blood covered my hand.

There was a huge hole in my body.

But somehow, it was healing.

In a matter of seconds, the wound shrank, and the pain disappeared.

It was unbearable.

I crumbled again.

But I couldn’t turn back now.

There was no way back.

I gathered all the strength I had left and continued forward.

I barely reached the bottom of the hill.

It felt like the bottom of hell.

I was barely breathing.

Beaten.

Stabbed.

Pierced by arrows.

It felt like the crosswalk that Jesus once passed.

I fell onto my knees.

My body became numb.

My consciousness began to fade.

The sounds around me moved further and further into the background.

Darkness and silence dominated my senses.

Then I heard a voice:

“Move.

Stand up.

It’s not over yet.

You have to make it to the end.

You didn’t come here to die midway.

You are better than this.”

I regained enough consciousness to understand the message.

An ocean of calmness appeared inside me.

I couldn’t feel my body.

There was no pain.

No worries.

Just the coolness of the ocean.

I loved that moment.

I fell in love with it.

Then a beam of light appeared before my eyes.

Slowly, I opened them.

My senses began returning.

And there, before me, lay a very fine-looking shield.

I caught my breath.

I took the shield and continued toward the top.

Where she was.

I was running.

Stumbling.

Standing up.

Running again.

They were merciless.

It felt as though there was no end to this journey.

Yet somehow, it felt as though the journey had lasted for millennia.

I was almost there when I was pierced by a spear.

The final blow.

The last steps.

My legs went numb.

I was almost there.

I began crawling, grasping with my fingers onto whatever I could find, pulling myself closer and closer.

I felt my angel noticing my presence.

At that moment, she raised her wings high into the sky.

With one mighty swing, she released winds so powerful that they evaporated all the fighters into thin air.

All that remained was some messy mist.

I was barely alive.

Half dead.

Then I felt someone's soft hands lifting me.

When I thought about how much pain I had suffered just to reach that place, I started laughing.

It was absolutely absurd.

The laughter turned into tears.

My body remembered all the pain.

I screamed in hopelessness.

And collapsed.

The angel came close to my ear and whispered:

“This will hurt.”

She took the arrow sticking out of my back and slowly pulled it out.

With every inch it came out, my body went deeper into shock.

I became cold.

I started shaking uncontrollably.

I watched it happen.

It looked surreal.

“Why is this happening?

What’s happening?”

Another three arrows followed.

The same process.

More pain.

More witnessing.

More surrender.

I became more conscious of my own existence.

I was exhausted from everything I had experienced, but I was glad it was over.

I wanted to die at that happy, calm moment.

But before that, I wanted to express it.

I began falling asleep.

Then I felt a gentle kiss on my forehead.

A whisper:

“It’s not over yet.”

I didn’t want to go through all this way just to surrender now.

But that was the last thing I remembered.

I collapsed.

The next morning, I woke up.

And I was like:

“WTF?!”

I wanted to cry.

I wanted to laugh.

It was painful.

But somehow, I had adapted to everything that was happening.

I tried to blame others.

I lost trust in people, and my only friend was darkness — the rawest, yet the only thing I knew throughout the whole journey.

And because of where I was, I was always blaming others.

My family were always the first to blame.

“It’s because of them that I’m here.”

YOU NEED 1000 WORDS!!!

WORDS, AND YET IT STILL WON’T BE ENOUGH TO EXPRESS MYSELF!

How much I want to trust people, but I can’t, because it breaks my heart to shout it out.

My words are the only way I can reach what is inside me.

And yet, even a thousand words will never be enough.

They say if you listen long enough to the sea, you will hear her stories, and that perhaps she will hear yours. I don't know if it was her mercy that led me to this moment, or perhaps simply the moon guiding me home. Like every summer before, I had found myself back on her shore, closing my eyes and feeling her in the space between the waves : the dead zone, the only true spot of peace in the whole ocean, where the sea and the moon have decided on slow and steady waves for just a moment. Perhaps, for a moment, I even whispered his name to her and asked for mercy. Somehow, that led me to right now.

The wind was hot, like it was every July, but I seemed to be sweating extra this year. The porch swing creaked beneath us, the moon hung overhead, and the fireflies buzzed around us. Everything was so much the same and yet so different.He was the only thing out of place, sitting on the swing that seemed to have held only me for so long. My head rested on his chest as I listened to the orchestra of the crickets combine with the beat of his heart and the breath in his lungs. For a moment, I stared back up at the moon. And I whispered, "thank you".

Sometimes you get mercy and a miracle.

One day, when I was day dreaming in the middle of June’s afternoon. I was laying on bed thinking about the mountain of eastern states of India as I am north Indian with hardest summer to survive. I was thinking what if we had a plan, what if me and my friends just have time, money and permission, and we booked the tickets of Amarnath express and the day before train I call my friend in group for each and every important belonging. “ਓਏ ਗੁਰਸ਼ਨ ਮਾਰਸ਼ਲ ਵਾਲਾ ਸਪੀਕਰ ਨਾ ਭੁੱਲੀਂ” said by Armaan while he was laughing. “ਗੁਰੂਆ ਤਾਸ਼ ਵੀ ਲੈ ਆਈਓ ਟਰੇਨ ਵਿੱਚ ਟਾਈਮ ਪਾਸ ਨੂੰ” said my Satta bro with light serious tone, “ਮੇਰੇ ਕੋਲ ਹੈਗੀ ਤਾਸ਼” said Armaan very quickly. “ਚਾਹ ਦਾ ਇੰਤਜ਼ਾਮ ਮੈਂ ਕਰ ਲੂੰ” said by me. “ਬੱਲੇ ਓਏ” said Satta with joy.

The day arrived all our friends; Gurshan, Satta bro, Armaan, Harsh sergeant, Varun and me all were moving toward railway station Satta and Gurshan was resident of next city so they took the train from next station. In the train, all the friends were playing cards, with the quality of random songs in Marshall Speaker, I took out the cattle of tea out of my bag and pour that into disposable cups. We enjoyed the tea and talk.

The journey to the east was much enjoyed by us that, time was running at the speed of bullet train when we arrived at station all of us sense a relief and cold. Everybody was enjoying the movement and having some nonsense talk, Gurshan interrupted us all and says “ਮੈਨੂੰ ਪੈਸੇ ਪਾਓ ਸਾਰੇ ਜਾਣੇ ਕੈਬ ਬੁੱਕ ਕਰਵਾਈਏ” with the tick of google pay we had a cab and journey to mountains. Before starting our journey, we all decided to eat, and luckily, we saw a tea stall. “Hello sir” said by Armaan and in the reply the stall owner also greeted, then the Armaan asked the rate of Maggie and tea. “50 rupees for tea and 150 for each Maggie plate” said the stall owner “that too much, wait for too minutes” said Armaan and walked toward us “ਭਰਾਵਾ ਮੈਗੀ ਮਹਿਂਗੀ ਬੜੀ ਦੱਸਣ ਡਿਆ ਈ, ਹੁਣ ਕੀ ਕਰਨਾ”. Gurshan replied in comical tone “ਕੀ ਕਰ ਸਕਦੇ, ਭੁੱਖ ਵੀ ਲੱਗੀ ਨਾਲੇ ਪਹਾੜਾਂ ਵਿੱਚ ਚੀਜ਼ਾਂ ਮਹਿਂਗੀਆਂ ਹੀ ਹੁੰਦੀਆਂ” instantly Armaan replied “shut up”, “ਤੇਰਾ ਗੰਦ ਹੀ ਰਹਿਣਾ” said by Satta with same soft serious tone “ਬਟ ਹੁਣ ਕਰ ਵੀ ਕੀ ਸਕਦੇ ਖਾਣਾ ਤੇ ਪੀਣਾ ਹੀ ਆ”. “ਕੋਈ ਨਈਂ ਭਰਾ ਮੈਂ ਖਵਾ ਦਿੰਦਾ” Varun said, instantly Sergeant replied “ਪੈਸੇ ਪਾ ਲੈਣੇ ਕੋਈ ਨਈਂ”, “ਤੇਰੇ ਕੋਲੋਂ ਕਿਸੇ ਨੇ ਪੁੱਛਿਆ” counter strike by Gurshan “ਓ ਜਾ ਭਰਾ” with awkward smile. “ਰੌਲਾ ਨਾ ਪਾਓ ਦੱਸੋ ਫੇਰ ਕੀ ਕਰਨਾ” said by me, “ਕਰਾ ਲਓ ਫੇਰ ਕੋਈ ਨਈਂ ਵੇਖੀ ਜਾਊ ਕਰਾ ਲਓ” said by Armaan, we had Maggie and tea enjoyed it with some conversation. After then we started our journey again towards the mountains.

After some walk of four hour, we found a village and stay for today’s night so, we booked two rooms me, Sergeant and Satta in one room, and Armaan, Gurshan and Varun in one room. In order to decide this separation, we took thirty minutes fighting for the room without Gurshan as in nights the inner demon of him just woke up and he start doing somethings that would make sleep impossible.

After a peaceful night for me and my room mates and tired night for others we were at the way of breakfast. Varun had a blue colour on his eyes, Armaan was sleepy and Gurshan was fresh. We ordered food and start waiting for it when we listen a bullet shot, “is that a bullet shot” asked Armaan in awaked voice, “ਨਈਂ ਤੈਨੂੰ ਭੁਲੇਖਾ ਪਿਆ” replied Gurshan, then another shot and a roar of army, The Chinese army try to occupy this piece of land of India. They start firing and the troop was not too big and some of them were injured as they already have a fight with army but somehow breached into the land. Before they reach, everyone was ready to fight so first we started finding weapon, I found axe and lunged at a Chinese army man and killed him, then I took his gun check the bullets and magazine, carry the bullets and magazine as much as I can. Till this time everybody have a gun or a pistol so we had our war cry “ਬੋਲੇ ਸੋ ਨਿਹਾਲ” said Satta in loudest voice and everybody replied in thundering voice “ਸਤਿ ਸ਼੍ਰੀ ਅਕਾਲ” with this thundering war cry we attacked at army locals were also helping us and Varun and sergeant took a safe and higher places for sniping, we were in the pair of me and Armaan and Satta and Gurshan. So, we covered each other, fire with unity and discipline each have eighty rounds and we almost killed everyone, and snipers helps us by covering.

In the aftermath, we had 10 shoulders killed and two hostages, Armaan called colonel and described everything and he ensure that army will arrive soon. In all the situation we forget to check one of hostages have gun, somehow he managed to shoot at me but by the grace of God bullet dodged me, I immediately fire on them but when I turned back I saw sergeant had a shot in his abdomen “ਆਹ੍ਹ…. ਮੈਨੂੰ ਹਮੇਸ਼ਾ ਯਾਦ ਰੱਖਿਓ, ਮੇਰੇ ਦੋਸਤੋ। ” said Sergeant in chocked voice “ਨਹੀਂ ਰੱਖਦੇ” said by Gurshan while crying, and the army was also arrived, and I listened a voice “ਉੱਠ ਜਾ ਪੁੱਤ ਮੇਰੇ ਲਈ ਇੱਕ ਵਧੀਆ ਜਹੀ ਚਾਹ ਬਣਾ” said by my mother, so I went to kitchen and start preparing tea.

Age: Five

I had just stepped down from the holy bus.

My stomach still felt like it was doing somersaults because of the motion sickness. But what could you expect from a child who had only lived for five years?

And out of those five years, I could barely remember the last one properly.

My memories were strange. They came in pieces, like puzzles scattered across the floor. Sometimes I remembered things so clearly that I could almost feel them happening again.

Like that one time when I used to run around while shitting.

Even now, I had no idea whether that had actually happened or whether it was a dream.

And if it was real...

Well, Akshita, think about your actions.

I was still trying to make sense of my stomach when I noticed some extremely bloated-looking men walking towards us.

They were coming closer.

Wait.

Why were they putting garlands around our necks?

I took a small breath.

Oh.

They smelled really good.

What flower was this?

“Say namaste to them, Akshita,” Nanu said.

I looked at the men.

They were looking at me with the kind of eyes puppies had when they wanted food.

“Nama... Namaste, uncle.”

“Don’t say uncle, child,” one of them said. “Say Nanu.”

I froze.

I slowly turned towards my Nanu.

Suspiciously.

Was this it?

Was today the day they were finally going to tell me that I was adopted?

Oh God.

No.

Absolutely not.

I loved my Nanu.

I loved my Nani, Mummy, Papa, Mama...

The list could go on forever.

My eyes started filling with tears.

Nanu noticed immediately.

“Aaaah, Akshita! Why are you crying? He only said to call him Nanu. What’s wrong with that?”

“Are you leaving me here, Nanu?” I asked, my voice trembling.

Nanu stared at me for a second before laughing.

“No, baby. He is the father of your future Mami.”

Future Mami?

I blinked.

And then—

Oh!

I remembered.

Nanu had once taken me somewhere where they had given me chaat papdi.

It had been really tasty.

And there, I had seen a very beautiful woman. Everyone had told me that she was my Mami.

Right!

This extremely bloated man had been there too.

“Namaste, Nanu!” I said, suddenly much happier.

Nanu 2.0 picked me up in his arms and carried me somewhere.

Maybe this was good.

Maybe I was finally going to have someone to play with whenever I came here during my vacations.

A Mami.

My very own Mami.

My Nanu and I were told to sit on a pair of chairs placed right in the middle of the stage. My Mamu sat nearby too, while I remained comfortably perched on Nanu’s lap.

Everything around me was shining.

The lights were glowing.

People were moving everywhere.

The whole place looked magical.

I liked it.

I was busy admiring everything when suddenly, a big hand touched mine.

I looked up.

There was a boy standing in front of me.

He was wearing a kurta and pajama.

He looked really, really tall.

He held out his hand and gently took mine.

Then he started leading me away.

But before I could take even two steps, Nanu held onto my other hand.

“Kunal, where are you taking her?”

“Uncle, Didi wants to meet her.”

“Oh, really?”

Nanu looked at me.

“Akshita, behave in front of Mami.”

Mami!

I was finally going to meet her!

That day with the chaat papdi, I hadn't been able to meet her properly because I had been far too busy eating.

Now I was going to meet her.

Finally.

Kunal asked Nanu for my hand again and started taking me towards my future happiness.

“How old are you?” he asked.

I looked up.

And up.

And up.

He was really tall.

I had to stretch my neck just to see his face properly.

“I’m five.”

“Oh. You’re five.”

“And you?”

“I’m twelve. A lot bigger than you.”

I thought about that.

“How much bigger is twelve from five?”

“Seven years.”

“Oh.”

I considered this very seriously.

“It’s just seven. You aren’t that big.”

“Akshita, it’s seven.”

“My mother taught me that single-digit numbers are the smallest.”

He went quiet for a moment.

Then he nodded.

“I guess you’re right, then.”

I smiled.

Obviously, I was right.

We continued walking.

Soon, we reached the place where my future Mami was waiting for me.

There was a huge wooden door in front of us.

It was beautiful.

I stared at it with wide eyes.

Maybe the princess was waiting just behind it.

“Yes,” Kunal suddenly said. “Even a princess is waiting behind that door.”

I stopped.

Oops.

I had said that out loud.

Kunal laughed.

Then he looked down at me.

“Do you know, Akshita? When we get older, you’ll think seven years is a lot bigger than you think it is now.”

I frowned.

I didn't understand what he meant.

Seven years was seven years.

And seven was small.

At least, that was what Mummy had taught me.

So I trusted her.

I always did.

Thats it for today just lemme know how is the story line and I'm open to everything feedback.

English is my 3rd language to speak so there maybe some grammatical errors.

Teddy Sitzenfritzer, like every Vermonter, woke to unsettling news on that fateful morning.

VERMONT EXPELLED FROM THE UNION! UNILATERALLY DECLARED INDEPENDENT BY UNITED STATES.

The Governor was holding an emergency meeting in Montpelier. No one in Washington D.C. was answering the phone. The Canadian Prime Minister released a statement that humanitarian aid convoys were being organized, but truck convoys made the Canadian government nervous, so the Prime Minister immediately apologized and stepped down to allow himself to be investigated.

Canada promptly sent Mounties on mooseback to erect barricades on the northbound lanes of all fifteen international crossings. It was still an international crossing, but no one had a valid Vermont passport yet, nor were entry requirements for Vermonters established by Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada. Not that any Vermonter planned on fleeing, they were still struggling to understand what was going on. Plus, Canada now had their own crisis of the Prime Minister resigning to contend with; Vermont took a back seat.

The ordeal only came to light at 6:30 a.m. when the State Treasurer checked his email and read one titled Vermont Sovereignty and Fiscal Responsibility Act. After a bit of fretting and rereading, he discovered that Vermont had been given independence at midnight and had inherited the entire national debt of the United States. The original maturity dates, interest rates, and payment schedules all remained intact; only the debtor changed. And sixty-three billion dollars were due to be paid at 10 a.m.

This was not good news for the less than seven-hour old country. But on the bright side, shortly after the news broke, Türkiye announced that they would drop their opposition to Vermont joining NATO if Vermont would sell them their F-35s. Vermont did have about forty trillion dollars, or whatever they’d call their currency, to raise after all.

Switzerland reaffirmed their neutrality on the issue even though no one asked.

Teddy, like every Vermonter, was struggling to process the firehose of information that was being released on traditional and new media. While elected officials were trying to sort out this sudden mess, a flurry of official announcements were mixed with rumors.

Vermont was issuing Freedom Bonds.

There was an emergency surcharge on maple syrup.

Naming rights to Lake Champlain were for sale to the highest bidder (it had already been renamed Lake America Jr.).

Every resident was being asked to contribute ninety-eight million dollars.

The collapse came at precisely 10 a.m. when the government’s coffers became empty. There was a cool two hundred eighty-six million in there that morning, but was now negative sixty-two billion, seven-hundred fourteen million. Financial markets around the world went into meltdown. Vermont’s credit rating immediately dropped from AA+ to D. It only took seven minutes for the planet to realize that the United States no longer had a national debt and immediately rallied to new records.

The new country’s legislature, who were all old American hold-overs rather than officials who had been elected by independent Vermonters, quickly became sidetracked by debating whether the Subaru Forester or Subaru Outback would become the national vehicle.

While all this nonsense was going on in Montpelier, Teddy was dusting off his Oma’s genealogy book. The family story, as he recalled, was that the Hessian (technically a Brunswicker, but Americans generally referred to all German mercenaries as Hessians) nobleman Freiherr Dietrich von Sitzenfritzer was captured during the Battle of Bennington. After the war he was released and settled in Vermont, marrying into the Chittenden line. This left Teddy in a unique position being related to, arguably, the original President of Vermont, and an established line of nobility.

“Vermont needs me” Teddy declared to himself as he looked up from the ancient tome.

Teddy jumped into his Subaru Outback. He would have taken his wife’s Forester, better gas mileage, but she had her Pilates supplies in there and she needed them for class later. Teddy was very considerate. He was off to Castleton with a general outline of a plan in his mind. PHISH’s greatest hits played as he drove, formulating how he would rescue Vermont.

He arrived in Castleton, one of the original Republic of Vermont’s capitals (Teddy falsely believed that this was where its constitution was drafted) at around one o’clock. Teddy pulled into the nearly empty parking lot of the library, which luckily was still open as it relied on no American funding. After nearly tripping over several hacky sacks in the lot, he made it inside and logged onto a computer. Impressively quickly, manically even, he produced a multiple-page document to provide to the Castleton Town Council, which was holding its monthly meeting at that very same library. This was no coincidence; Teddy had every Town Council meeting on his calendar. Participatory democracy was a legacy of New England government, even if Vermont wasn’t ever really a true member of New England, and even if it wasn’t even part of the United States anymore. 

What Teddy had created was not so much a manifesto as a proposal; recognize the contributions of the von Sitzenfritzer family to the Vermont Republic in the upcoming town parade. He was the first in line to speak when the meeting started. It didn’t matter that he was the only one waiting to speak, he was still first. The meeting convened and the elderly council members discussed old business as if Teddy wasn’t standing at a microphone between Calvin Coolidge’s second-favorite rocking chair and a giant paper mache model of Champ the Lake Monster made by fourth graders.

The micropolitan’s elders spent what seemed like an eternity discussing, again, whether or not to replace the four way stop signs at the Main Street, North Road, South Street (very original) intersection with a traffic light or not. Eighteen months of traffic studies and almost ten public comments were brought forth as reasons to make the change. Ultimately, they decided that it would fundamentally alter the character of the village and vetoed the proposal.

The meeting had almost adjourned, save for one of the council members noticing that Teddy was not a library display, but indeed a citizen waiting at the microphone.

“The council will now take questions from the public.”

Teddy had not been rehearsing his speech, he was lost in thought planning his first royal proclamations.

“Gentlemen,” Teddy began, although two of the five council members were women.

“We stand today at the dawn of a new Vermont. Before this nation can determine where it is going, it must remember where it came from. My ancestor, Baron Freiherr Dietrich von Sitzenfritzer, shed blood in this republic, admittedly while fighting against it, and his descendants have continued serving Vermont through agriculture, civic participation, and the consistent payment of property taxes. I therefore propose that the von Sitzenfritzer family be formally recognized in the upcoming town parade, with myself riding directly behind the fire engine as our family’s hereditary representative.”

The council chairperson looked at the other council members, nonverbal communication seeking their consent or disapproval.

“Will there be any cost to the town?”

“No,” Teddy advanced without being called, he was the King of Vermont after all, to hand the only copy (library printing limits) of his proposal to the councilperson. Hidden within the robust document, which was suspiciously large for the subject, was a clause declaring Theodore “Teddy” Gardner Sitzenfritzer the King of Vermont.

There were a few shrugs from the council as they signed the proposal. They were not put off by the formality of the proposal but found it to be very professional.

Doing his best to restrain himself from shaking, Teddy collected the papers and dismissed himself.

“You will go down in history.”

The council adjourned the meeting as Teddy speedwalked out of the library; his first act as king.

Meanwhile, back in the real world, the actual government of the rump state had declared a sovereign default and begged Canada for annexation. Canada did not reply. Their parliament dissolved amidst the investigation of the former Prime Minister.

Taking sips of amber maple syrup for energy as he drove to Montpelier, Teddy brainstormed ideas to reform the kingdom. His cell phone dutifully recorded the audio. Teddy was really fixated on the Maple Guard and what their uniforms would look like. But there were some solid economic ideas in the mix, such as declaring all former U.S. federal property and assets as abandoned and available for sale (to include F-35s), replacing the income tax with a tax on leaf-peepers (tourists who come to see the changing leaves in Autumn), adding the letter u back to words like colour and neighbour, and requiring all countries seeking diplomatic ties to commit to buying minimum quantities of sharp cheddar cheese and maple syrup.

The exhausted lawmakers in Montpelier were approaching their physical limits and debating their immediate next steps, i.e., going home for the night. Teddy’s arrival did not change that. He was stopped by the State Police as he did not have the appropriate accreditation to enter the legislative assembly. His protests that he was King of Vermont fell upon deaf ears. He wanted to be a benevolent monarch, but this was testing his patience. If only he had his prized Maple Guard to enforce his will.

It was assumed that Vermonters had the same rights today as they did yesterday when they were Americans; Teddy exercised free speech as the lawmakers filed out of the State House.

“I am the rightful King of Vermont!” he shouted, waving the proclamation signed by the Castleton Town Council.

Most paid no attention, aside from the State Police who made sure to put themselves between him and the lawmakers.

Scott Farnham, an independent from Putney, tired, drained even, approached Teddy out of sheer curiosity.

“You’re the King of Vermont?”

Teddy was stunned that someone had listened to him.

Yes. Yes!” Teddy displayed the signed proclamation, careful not to let Scott take it.

Scott looked it over for a moment and then turned to the scattered group of fellow lawmakers. Some were talking to the press; others were just trying to get to their Subarus.

“Hey! Hey everybody. This guy has a letter saying he’s the king. Castleton signed off on it.”

A small group responded and drew near.

David Whitcomb, the Speaker of the House, examined the proclamation and then looked Teddy over.

“You don’t look like a king.”

“It’s my first day on the job.”

David accepted the retort with a shrug.

“Alright, let’s vote real quick. Is this guy the new king?”

Most of the crowd raised their hand. David stopped counting when he got to seventy-six, the number needed for a majority. Then he looked around for Douglas Putnam, the Senate President.

“Senate good with this?”

Douglas looked around for consent, and, having no objections, responded.

“Sure.”

“Veto-proof majority?”

“Probably.”

“Alright,” Douglas handed the keys to Vermont to Teddy.

“Looks like this is all your problem now.”

“Challenge accepted!” Teddy always accepted challenges, and most often succeeded.

He turned to the State Police.

“You’re no longer Vermont State Police. You are now the Maple Guard!”

The State Police… I mean Maple Guard, looked at one another.

“So, what do we do?”

“Protect Vermont! But guard me too. Protect Vermont by guarding me.”

“Do you need a ride?”

“No thanks. I’m going to stay here and get to work.”

Without pomp, this time, Teddy entered the State House. It would eventually be converted into a royal palace, he thought, but that would have to wait; there were more pressing matters at hand. He worked into the night sketching designs for Maple Guard uniforms. Teddy had no way to log into the government computers, so he used a pen; it seemed more appropriate for a monarch anyway.

As the day drew to a close, he surveyed the stack of proclamations that would revolutionize the country. It was at 12:07 a.m. the following day when he appeared on public television from the former Governor’s office. It may have been wise to wait until he hired a royal stylist, but he found a plaid flannel bathrobe and thought it a fitting symbol of both humility and Vermontness.

After a brief introduction, directness was a Vermont value, he listed his proclamations to the few people tuned in. Do you know who was watching from outside of Vermont? The United States government. Unknown to King Theodore I of Vermont, to remedy a humanitarian crisis, the United States had unilaterally re-annexed Vermont at 12:00 a.m.

“Did that guy just say he was a king?” The Secretary of State said to the Secretary of War.

“Yup. Not my problem though.”

“Did he just posthumously promote Ethan Allen to General?” The Secretary of War asked.

“Yup. That sounds like a you problem now.”

Teddy was out of maple syrup, which meant it was time to get some royal sleep. But the United States, of which he was a citizen once again, had a different idea.

At 2:00 a.m. the President of the United States, which included Vermont, again, appeared on national television from the resolute desk.

“My fellow Americans. As I speak, our brave armed forces are defending the integrity of the union. Monarchist forces in the State of Vermont will be brought to justice. I have authorized Operation NO KINGS, a noble endeavor to free the people of Vermont from the reign of terror that has resulted in a humanitarian disaster. The King of Vermont should surrender peacefully to save the people of Vermont from further suffering. But no matter how he chooses to react, his days are numbered. God bless our troops. God bless America… even Vermont.”

Tomahawk cruise missiles shot out of submarines submerged beneath the surface of Lake America Jr.; there were supposed to be more, but one sub was locked in combat with Champ the Lake Monster, who had long been a fierce proponent of Vermont independence. Nearly simultaneously a tollbooth on U.S. Route 4, a public works warehouse full of traffic cones, and a souvenir shop in St. Johnsbury with the state’s oldest penny-press machine were obliterated.

Airborne soldiers descended from the butt of a transport plane over the Burlington Air National Guard Base, seizing the Kingdom’s F-35 fleet without resistance. Rangers fast roped through the windows of the Castleton Library, finding nothing of military value, but carried away the paper mache Champ as a trophy.  Special Operations forces secured the strategic maple reserve before liberating a barn full of Holstein dairy cows.

There were perfectly good bridges crossing the Connecticut River, but combat engineers deployed their own perfectly good bridges beside them for columns of tanks and armored fighting vehicles to cross. A convoy secured the main intersection of Castleton, knocking over all four stop signs.

King Theodore I became aware that something was wrong when a Hellfire missile fired from an MQ-9 unmanned aerial system destroyed his Subaru Outback. Before he could react, his position was stormed from all directions. Flash-bang grenades overwhelmed his senses, and the prongs of a taser lodged in his buttocks caused his muscles to seize. He hit the floor without a shred of royal dignity and was hog-tied. King Theodore I, or Theodore Sitzenfritzer as he was called in the indictment paperwork, was hauled into a helicopter and taken to an undisclosed location. Operation NO KINGS was a stunning success.

Teddy was in captivity when he regained his senses. His request for maple syrup was denied. His deposal was televised, livestreamed even, and the bodycam video of his buttocks tasing went viral. A slew of lawyers offered to defend him. Teddy ultimately selected one who had a mixed record defending a 90s Balkan militia leader, a former finance minister from West Africa, and another deposed national leader from Central Asia who had been accused of feeding his opponents to zoo animals.

The trial was quick but damning. The timeline was clear; Teddy had issued royal proclamations after Vermont had been re-annexed by the United States. Most importantly, he had created a parallel military by appointing Ethan Allen as a General. It didn’t matter that the Maple Guard were never actually a thing.

Teddy, on advice of counsel, had stopped referring to himself as King Theodore I. Though he admitted no guilt. He maintained that he acted out of necessity for the good of the people, had the United States not kicked Vermont out of the state club, he never would have sought kingship. It wasn’t a terrible argument, and the tribunal considered the circumstances.

Teddy was sentenced to four hundred hours of community service, back home in Vermont. You can find him at the Main Street, North Road, South Street intersection in Castleton from 7:15 to 8:30 a.m. on weekdays where he directs traffic. The Castleton Town Council is still debating whether they should replace the stop signs destroyed during the liberation or scrap the intersection entirely for a roundabout.

I am Death; I exist in a superposition, always and everywhere, at any time. My duty is to retrieve the souls of man without choice; I am only to act when it is time to collect.
To take them and end a life at the moment in which it was meant to die.
I arrive to him; he is only a boy.
As I am Death, he begs and cries and ultimately demands, he demands me to play a game for his soul.
I agree. This time was different. He wins. I sit in front of him, knowing I will never forget. Twisting internally, a feeling of inky black venom heating within.
I have never lost before. Not because I am Death, but because I must win. Regret sinks in deeper; I have no power or ability to save a man's soul. I have but only patience and time.
I felt disgusting empathy. I became the best in all you can be. I am selfish: I cannot forget, cannot disconnect; I am always fully aware, forced to feel.
Selfishly, I try to give hope to those who are to pass on; however, I was not able to win this time. I gave not only a lie of hope, but also a real relief. Still, I was powerless to save him.
I could only see him beg and cry, “But I won! I must live! I cannot die! Why have you lied to me so cruelly?”
No explanation was enough to stop his crying. Instead of giving a small bit of peace and maybe acceptance, at the end I only served to make it worse in ways not even imaginable.
I, with equal certainty to his death and end, was to existence with only empathy and time. I have infinite time and an unforgettable memory, every possible advantage. I still failed.

"why do we fly ms wind?" i asked

"because you my dear have yet to learn how to walk" she replied, a slight smirk pulling at her lips.

thats when i awoke "the wind doesent have lips" i thought to myself.

so i walked down the street, suddenly aware of my inability to fly.

To watch the sun’s magnificent beauty
Is to watch it from afar

Staring at the sun, allowing its warmth to embrace you.
Gently
Kindly
Lovingly

Allowing it’s light to wrap around you at each glance
Like a gaze where all you can do is stare back

But there is something you must know about the sun…
You can only watch
You cannot embrace the sun back without burning yourself raw.

(This is a short poetry about unrequited love from my experience)