#and it reaffirms my decision to never stop creating art

[ladsofsorrow24]

reading Look Back be like

[emilyoftheshadows]

Person A catches a bus home everyday, but today, they're so exhausted that they fall asleep, suddely they feel a light tap on their shoulder and open their eyes to see a cute guy/gal/person smiling at them. "Sorry to wake you, bit this is your stop, i hope you slept well"

So, this is the first piece I have written and posted here! This is a fluffy drabble loosely based on the prompt above as well as some tik tok ideas i've seen. I hope you enjoy and don't judge too hard :)

~~~~~~

Aelin never knew that she could feel such a wide range of emotions in such a short amount of time. The hectic events she had endured earlier in her day had left her drained and in dire need of sleep.

She started out her mornings as usual - brewing her coffee with the help of an overly excited Fleetfoot. On the subway ride to work, coffee in hand, she explicitly remembered checking her emails for any important notices regarding her job. As an advertising agent, she dealt with multiple clients at one time. With her meticulously organized calendar and the help of her overworked assistant Marion, she was usually able to keep everything in check. Today was not one of those days.

As she entered her office, Marion greeted her with her tablet in hand- Aelin’s schedule color coded, labeled and sorted by hour.

 “Good morning Ms. Galathynius, ready to hear your schedule for today?” Aelin nodded, sipping her coffee as Marion listed her client meetings for the upcoming day. As they entered her office, Aelin paused.

“Marion, could you please repeat that first meeting  again?”

“The Havilliard Scotch pitch at 12?” And that was when Aelin knew she was fucked. This pitch was meant for a well known drinking company in New York, fast on the come up. Havilliard Sr. was known to be picky about his branding, scrutinizing most agencies that had helped him before. She had barely gotten this client, practically begging Nehemia for the job. As she worked the branding, she had become worried about the content she was producing.

She was so worried about this pitch, that she had taken her laptop home last night in hopes of triple checking her work for mistakes and to fine tune some details. And that's where her laptop was at that moment. At her apartment, across town, sitting on her desk, collecting dust. Her mind raced at how to solve her predicament. The subway ride to and from her apartment was too long of a trip to make before the meeting and, like an amateur, she hadn’t saved her files anywhere else but her laptop. She was completely fucked. 

Marion stood in the doorway, confused on what was going on in Aelin’s head. Aelin decided to finally release herself from her stupor. “Marion, could you please go find Aedion for me? And tell him it’s an emergency.”

With a determined look on her face, her assistant went as fast as her short legs could carry her to Aedion’s office on the adjacent part of the building floor she was on. Within minutes, Aedion was standing at her door, panting like he had just sprinted the fastest race of his life. The good thing about having her overbearing cousin work with her, is that she knew that in any problem he would help in an instant. And this was one hell of a fucking problem.

“What happened Aelin? Are you okay? Were you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?”

“You idiot I am physically fine, but still screwed and I need your help.” Aedion released the first breath Aelin had seen him take since entering her office.

“You know, when Marion power walked into my office saying you had an EMERGENCY and she didn’t know what was wrong with you, I definitely thought you would be passed out on your floor with blood on your face. But, you know, thanks for the heart attack. Really woke me up this morning.” 

Aelin rolled her eyes at him. He was more dramatic than her, and that spoke volumes in itself. 

“Aedion, please it really is an emergency. I have the big pitch for the Havilliard Scotch today and I left my laptop with the presentation at my apartment.” Aedion’s eyes widened in surprise. He knew that Aelin had been obsessed about this pitch and that mistakes like this only happened to her once in a blue moon. Aelin saw understanding dawn on his face and took that as a sign to continue.

“Now, I know a while back I sent you the rough drafts of the branding from when I first got the pitch. Is there any chance that you have the email or presentation saved still? If I have the basis of the presentation, I have an hour to build on it and hopefully fix this.”

Aedion’s face fell at the request. “We can go look, but you know I’m not the best at organizing my files Ace. It could be anywhere on my computer or not at all.” With those reaffirming words, Aelin and Aedion walked at a brisk pace back to his office. Combing through Aedion’s computer was an agonizing process. There were files saved from years ago that should’ve been deleted, and backtracking through all the contents of his computer made Aelin want to stab her eyes out. But it was all worth it, because hidden in the depths of this man’s terribly organized computer was the presentation. With a quick click of a button, she emailed the document to herself. She gave a half ass hug to Aedion, then practically ran to her office to start reworking her pitch on the computer there.

--

Aelin believed it was pure adrenaline that enabled her to finish her pitch in time for the Havilliard meeting. With a strong foundation laid out before her from her first draft, she had constructed almost her exact pitch that was left at home. Aelin waited for the Havilliards in the boardroom, smoothing out her clothes as she paced at the front. Far too soon, Marion escorted Havilliard Sr., Dorian Havilliard, and their close friend and partner Chaol Westfall into the room for her presentation. The three men had sat down in silence with no introduction, except for a small encouraging smile from the younger Havilliard. Taking that as her sign to start, Aelin cleared her throat.

“Hello gentlemen, today I want to present to you the future of Havilliard Scotch…”

---

As the men had exited the room single file, Aelin finally allowed herself to relax. That had felt like the longest pitch of her life. Going into the meeting, she had known the men were notorious for being extremely serious and critical of their agents. What she had not expected was the whispered words between the men after she had finished her presentation. As she looked on, Dorian Havilliard had finally broken away from their circle to address her.

“Miss Galathynius, thank you for your time. We will get back to you shortly about our decision to run with this branding or not.” With a quick nod and gesture to his companions, the trio had stood up and left the room. She was utterly shocked. Aelin had poured her sweat and tears into this pitch, quite literally, and they had just thanked her and left. No critiques, no opinions, no nothing. 

Quite honestly, Aelin was exhausted. She had spent most of her brain power reworking that pitch in that 45 minutes before that meeting and she had nothing left to give today. Yet, she still had a full schedule left to woo clients and work on her other projects. By the time Aelin trudged back to the subway, she was ready for a nice dinner at home followed by a restorative night of sleep with Fleetfoot at her side. 

Now, as she entered the subway, she immediately noticed the mystery man sitting down a few feet away from her. The man was moderately built, with muscles that were outlined by the fabric of his long sleeve t-shirt. His style was simple with a pair of nice jeans and Doc Marten boots, but that just allowed one's focus to settle on the beautiful creation that was his face. Mystery man had a strong jawline, lined with a bit of stubble and scruff. His eyes were a beautiful shade of green like none that she had seen before, his head topped with luscious silver hair. As the subway started, Mystery Man continued to sketch drawings into his book. Now, Aelin was never one to back  down from an opportunity to flirt with one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. She was a single woman in a big city, why the hell not. But her day had taken a toll on her, and she just didn’t know if this was the right time or place. So, she opted to put in her headphones as she waited for her stop, listening to relaxing music to calm her anxieties regarding the failed Havilliard pitch. 

 Seeing that her stop was next, Aelin rose from her seat to wait in line for the doors to open. As she waited, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Low and behold, there was the Mystery Man standing next to her with a piece of paper in hand. As she pulled her headphone out, the man silently handed her the paper. Looking down, she saw a pencil sketch of herself on the subway. The drawing was beautifully done with bold lines and harsh shading, contrasted by highlights created from the fluorescent lights of the subway. Her eyes welled up, immediately grateful for this thoughtful gift after such a horrible day. The Mystery Man saw her emotions, startled to see tears welling up in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy. I just… I like to draw and when I saw you… I mean, it’s just you’re so stunning..” The man’s face flushed red as he tried to justify his beautiful art. Aelin laughed out loud for the first time today at his misunderstanding of her swell of emotions. 

“Oh no, these are just tears of..uhmm.. happiness? I guess…” She started to flush at her own awkwardness, trying to explain her emotions this time.

“I just had a really rough day and feel like shit. But this drawing is beautiful and I really am grateful that such a talented artist like yourself chose me as your muse today.” Aelin watched as the Mystery Man reacted to such a lavish compliment, somehow developing an even deeper blush with a shy smile . Gaining confidence from his reaction, she decided to make her move before she exited for her upcoming stop. 

“Hey, Mystery Man, why don’t I give you my number? Seeing that I am your muse and all, I would really like to learn more about your art.” It was a subpar pickup line at best, but hey, she had a long day and for the circumstance she thought it good enough. The man gave a deep timbered laugh at her pickup line, clearly enjoying their conversation now. 

“I think I might be one step ahead of you actually. Flip the drawing over.” As she flipped the paper, she saw a messy scrawl with the name Rowan, and what she could only assume was his number. The sight of these two things brought her complete giddiness. Giddiness that made you want to jump in the air and pump your fist because you're so excited. She looked up at Rowan, smirking as she tucked the piece of paper into her purse.

As the subway doors opened and they were pushed apart by bypassers, she turned around one last time to look at the man who had brightened her day beyond belief. She winked at Rowan as she walked away, not missing the wide smile he gave in return as the subway doors closed and continued on to the next stop.

[3pirouette]

Fic: Iterate (1/1)

Title: Iterate By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Spoilers: Up through Endgame. Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: 2953 Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Summary: Steve lived through the 21st century twice, the second time hurt much more than the first.

A/N: I literally made myself cry today on the way to work while I was working this out in my head. It was SUPPOSED to be FLUFFY. I’m not exactly why I decided on this format, all I know is that it felt right. I hope you enjoy. Steggy is just mentioned, more Steve-centric. 

It was supposed to be a stupid, fluffy story about Old Steve living with his granddaughter and being a LITTLE SHIT to her all the time because he’s 100% comfortable with modern things and it drives her nuts. I’m sorry.

Also, please pay attention to vague time stamps. Certain details are changed for impact. Hence, AU (Even though I FULLY BELIEVE that once the stones are placed back there is only ONE main timeline where Steve lived, was Peggy’s husband, and that’s how he showed up at the end of Endgame. Fight me.)

AND I’M SORRY.

~*~ October 2023

He supposed he’d always been waiting for this day. Steve knew he’d be around for it, one way or another. At least, he’d always assumed that, though he’d thought he’d experience it in a very, very different way.

He didn’t know the exact time, just a vague recollection that it was early afternoon, that there had been sunlight they’d blocked out with the blast shields, that they’d tried to eat lunch but they were all too nervous.

Funny. Same thing happened to him today. He couldn’t manage to get anything to slide down past the lump in his throat, couldn’t fill his stomach to calm the butterflies. He tried coffee first. It was warm and robust but had no effect.

He pulled out the tin from the back of the cabinet and made a cup of tea from one of the few remaining bags there. He sipped it and imagined Peggy sitting across from him, telling him off for using old tea that would be bitter and teasing him for how much sugar he put in it.

He drank a beer and wished to god that he had just one flask of whatever it was Thor used to carry around. He needed something to calm his nerves.

He caught his reflection in the window over the sink. For just the briefest second he saw his young self, so broken by so much, not knowing that today would be the day he’d be put to his greatest test. But the sun shifted and he could see every wrinkle in the refection, every grey hair, the haziness to his eyes that the doctor said was the beginning of cataracts.

A lifetime ago this day had changed everything for him without him knowing. Today, he was just as eager for the moment when Banner would put on that glove, this time for very different reasons.

~*~

In the end, Steve Rogers managed to live a fairly normal life.

Once back with Peggy, he kept away from the spotlight. Unsure if he’d created a parallel timeline or if he was living in his own, he did his best to avoid changing things.

Because even when he wanted to change things, he realized very quickly, he couldn’t.

He became enamored with sci-fi and fantasy that included time travel, with physicists who wrote books on the subject. He wanted to understand it, to know the unknowable.

He eventually decided that he was prescribing to the Doctor Who Theory of time travel: that it was all very, very complicated but that some things, no matter what, had to just happen in their own time and some things were simply fixed and would always happen the way they were supposed to. He’d seen this first with Zola- as he’d tried to get the man and his influence away from SHIELD they only dug their heels in deeper and kept him. It was later reaffirmed when, despite every effort, The Winter Soldier escaped him and Howard and Maria were left for dead in their car, young Tony devistated.

After that day, he stopped trying so hard to avoid squishing butterflies and focused instead on enjoying what he had.

What he had was, after all, quite a lot: A wife, two young boys, and a second chance at the life he’d missed while fighting other men’s wars.

~*~

Despite knowing all that laid ahead for him and his friends in the future that was now his past and yet somehow once again his future, Steve eventually started longing for the new millennium as decades past him by. He missed the technology, the ability to have whatever kind of entertainment he waited at the tips of his fingers. Though he’d known a good portion of what would happen from history books, once he’d gone back, he’d lived an entire lifetime full of surprises, experiencing things like the moon landing and the Vietnam war first hand. But now, as he grew older and he knew his days with Peggy were numbered, he longed for the small comforts of familiarity, for e-mails and smartphones and heated steering wheels on cars that parked themselves.

As the 2000’s arrived, he felt himself get more and more comfortable with the things around him: the news, the events he’d already experienced once and would again in a different way. It felt good to feel at least on solid ground with the world around him, knowing what was to come for him.

His home was lonely after Peggy was gone, and he made his only granddaughter an offer she couldn’t refuse: free room and board if she helped him keep up the house. An elementary school art teacher, Maggie was happy to step in for a little financial relief as she tried to navigate the churlish economy.

If he never told her that he was perfectly capable of taking care of the house by himself, it didn’t quite matter. The company was more than enough. And if when she smiled she looked just a little like her namesake and it warmed his heart… well, that wasn’t a bad thing, either.

The best part, he’d found though, was that it was hilariously funny to drive his granddaughter crazy. He’d lived through the early decades of the 21st century as a young man. He’d learned how to navigate the internet, interface with the most complicated technology there was to offer, and listened to music that wouldn’t be written for years to come. He loved watching her face as he sang along to Billie Eilish on the radio or realize that she didn’t have to explain to him how to use an iPad or Facetime.

~*~

She yelled at him the first snowfall. Skidded her car (all-wheel drive, thank goodness he’d convinced her to get the newest model) into the freshly shoveled driveway and tore out of the driver’s seat, yelling at him a mile a minute.

They’ll think I’m some kind of self-centered princess letting a centenarian shovel this and try to kill himself!  She’d yelled, trying to take the shovel from his hands.

He was still stronger than he should be, and held his ground. I don’t want you hurting yourself on this stuff.

Me? She’s screeched, and he’d laughed. He couldn’t help but smile and find her concern at least a little comical. Deep down he understood, knew that he should be trying to sell his age a little more, be trying to hide that he was still strong and fast and in better shape than some of his middle-aged neighbors.

As much as he’d like to push her off, tell her to go inside, he couldn’t. She wasn’t a self-centered princess, but she was his princess, and he bent to her whim like a branch in the wind. He’d kissed her on the head and finally handed her the shovel, leaving her the last bit of the path to her to clean up, and promised to take better care of himself.

She didn’t know that when she left for work, he still went down the basement and bench pressed 225 on an easy day.

~*~

She teased him about his record collection. Even though records had come back in style, she still thought it was silly to have a whole wall dedicated to them when she could access nearly all of musical history on her cell phone. He showed her his own digital playlists and popped in his airpods when he was reading sometimes, but he loved the sound the needle made when it hit the wax.

One night, when he couldn’t listen to her teasing anymore, no matter how good natured it was, he played dirty.

You know, there’s a new song coming out by one of those artists you like. WAP? Heard it’s a cover of a song your Nana and I used to dance to all the time.

Two weeks later, he heard the familiar opening bass to the song Barton had played incessantly in the gym while he was working out and had quoted for months, the song that he hadn’t been able to get away from even in the past with random phrases like macaroni in a pot popping into his head at the most inconvenient times.

Barely half a verse in she’d either shut it off or turned the music way lower. At dinner she couldn’t look at him.

That was not at cover, Pop Pop. And I don’t want to think about you and Nana like that… ever.

~*~

She cried when she came home, a year after Peggy’s death, to see Peggy’s beautiful vanity had been moved into her room, Peggy’s jewelry box on it front and center.

What did you do? She’d kept asking him, tears in her eyes.

She’d want you to have it. He knew it was the truth. He hugged her tight as she sniffed and knew he’d made the right decision. He remembered Peggy sitting with Maggie on her knee on the small stool, letting the girl paw through her necklaces and play with her big fluffy make-up brushes. Maggie reaching for her eyeshadow and Peggy deftly pulling it away. Peggy being just a little too slow with the lipstick and the toddler bouncing around the house, proudly showing off the circle on the bottom half of her face to anyone who would look at her.

They’d loved their boys, but Maggie had both of their hearts in a way they hadn’t been prepared for.

Steve had to make up and excuse to leave the house the next morning when Maggie came down to breakfast, wearing the single pearl drop necklace he’d gotten for Peggy on their 25th wedding anniversary and her signature red lipstick. It was a good pain, but the first time he saw her in her grandmother’s necklaces, it was pain none the less.

~*~ Spring 2018

He knew the date it was supposed to happen. He’d kept up enough to know that it would, too. His other self was out there, somewhere, fighting what would become the biggest battle of his life.

Steve decided to focus on the small things. He kept the house stocked up with food and drinks, nonperishables that would last months and even years, toilet paper and paper towels. He ordered big metal shelves for the basement and made sure there was enough for multiple people for the long haul.

He didn’t know what would happen to his family in the snap- who would make it and who wouldn’t, but he was going to be sure whoever survived would be set for the following months where there was chaos, food and water shortages, and fear.

It would be a long five years for anyone that was left.

Even though she was home most nights, he asked Maggie for a standing Thursday night date. Some nights he showed her how to keep the house up: where the water main was, how to shut it on and off, where the gas line was, what to do if the roof started leaking. He made notebooks full of lists of things to do, how-to’s for the house and for life, and even, when he was awake in the middle of the night, wrote her letters so she wouldn’t be lonely.

Somehow, he just knew it would be him this time. He had survived the first snap, but if there were two of him and one survived, the other, statistically, did not. Thanos was very clear on how half worked.

Maggie, at first, had been scared. His family knew he had a knack for predicting the future, but didn’t know quite why.

Are you dying? Maggie had asked, fearing the worst when she started to realize that their Thursday night take-out and movie date was about more than just spending time together.

No, he’d said so very often, I just want you to be ready for anything.

Despite all of her questions, she went along with it.

When the day came, he couldn’t quite keep the sadness out of his eyes. Couldn’t quite smile at her. They ate pizza in front of the TV, watching a comedy Maggie had picked. He kept his eyes on his watch. It was coming.

His fingers itched. Like he could already feel his cells pulling apart.

He reached out, taking her hand in his and covering it with is other hand. “Maggie, you know I love you, right?”

She smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She’d sensed his anxiety all day. “Of course, I do. And I love you, Pop Pop.”

He looked away and then back at her. “I promise you, whatever happens, I’m alright, and I’ll be back.”

“Pop Pop,” her eyes filled with tears, “What are you talking about?”

He shook his head, “I’ve left you everything you’ll need, and I promise I’ll be back.”

A tear fell from her eye as she squeezed his hand tighter. “But where…”

It was as if the world went silent as it started to happen. Though the television droned on in the background, he could swear the air was stiller. He started to see the dust fill the air and tried not to breathe.

But it was wrong.

It wasn’t him.

Her hand was falling to nothing in his, the fear in her eyes haunting as the skin of her cheeks flecked into the air, swirling before falling along with the rest of her into a pile on the couch.

It was so fast. So fast.

And it wasn’t him.

“No…” The word fell from his lips as a whisper, sobs starting to form in his throat.

~*~

He wondered, nearly every night for five years, if Thanos knew. If it had somehow been a conscious choice to keep him alive, to make him suffer just a little more. To make him watch his other self on television trying to promote healing.

Sometimes, he realized that this was a blessing. His sons and granddaughter were safe while they were snapped, protected by the fabric of the universe. Bucky had told him that he didn’t remember anything from being snapped, didn’t feel any different when he woke up than if he’d taken a long, heavy nap.

Somewhere, his family was taking the universe’s longest nap without him.

But they’d be spared these memories. They’d be spared lonely nights of missing loved ones and too little to eat while the world sorted out the jobs that were suddenly empty to keep things running for those that were left behind.

They’d be spared the fear of the gangs that started roaming the streets of half abandoned cities, looting for food and clothes in stores that had never officially closed but also couldn’t open with their owners simply gone.

They’d be spared the rolling blackouts and the contaminated water scares.

They’d be spared the fear of the country as the government suddenly found itself missing elected officials and the infighting and the rhetoric that came with martial law and hasty elections.  

They’d be spared so, so much pain and loss.

Every day, he relived it all, twice over.

He counted every day for five years, making his way through each week and month motivated by only one thought: they were coming back. He needed to be ready for them, for her.

He helped his daughter in law keep their house, managed his other son’s apartment in DC and kept his things ready and waiting, made sure Maggie’s things were safe and in working order, made sure her bank account stayed open and her phone bill was paid. He’d never, not once, considered he’d be the one left behind, and the logistics of all there was to do left him busy for the first few weeks.

Everyone told him his hope that the dusted would return was infectious, but after the first year, people stopped listening. He knew, for a fact, they’d come back, but everyone else didn’t. Even the past him was operating on the idea that they’d never be back.

Some days he didn’t make it out of bed. He laid there, talking to the ceiling, whispering to Peggy, wishing she could talk back, wishing she could be one of the ones brought back. He missed her with a ferocity that hadn’t changed since the first time he’d been in this time, but had only been tempered and strengthened by a lifetime together.

As the days drew closer to the five-year mark, he began to make arrangements.

~*~ October 2023

He cleaned the living room and set it to the way it had been that night. He pulled out every note and letter he’d written Maggie and his children and put them in the kitchen, ready and waiting.

He sat on the couch, facing the blank television, a new, piping hot, pepperoni pizza sitting in front of him, untouched.

He still couldn’t eat.

He still didn’t know if this was the right timeline. As he’d gotten closer to this day his faith had wavered. What if all he’d come to believe wasn’t true? What if this wasn’t the one fourteen million? He wanted to believe, but he didn’t know for sure.

He looked at his watch, watching as the seconds ticked by. What were a few seconds to him? He’d lived more than one lifetime, and that had been enough. He had barely made it through these five years the first time. The second time had almost truly broken him. He was ready for this to be over. He was ready to stop having to deal with loss and to be able to live whatever time he had left with the family he loved.

He held out his hand, and waited.

[maxwellyjordan]

Potential nominee profile: Amy Coney Barrett

Credit: University of Notre Dame

In November 2017, President Donald Trump released a revised list of potential Supreme Court nominees. The November 2017 list was an expanded version of two earlier lists, announced during the 2016 presidential campaign, from which then-candidate Trump pledged, if elected, to pick a successor to the late Justice Antonin Scalia, who died on February 13, 2016. First on the new list – because it was in alphabetical order – was Amy Coney Barrett, a Notre Dame law professor (and former Scalia clerk) who had recently been confirmed to a seat on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 7th Circuit. Barrett’s confirmation hearings had received considerable attention after Democrats on the Senate Judiciary Committee – most notably, Senator Dianne Feinstein of California – grilled her on the role of her Catholic faith in judging. Feinstein’s criticism did not stop Barrett from being confirmed, and since then there has been speculation that it may have in fact strengthened her case to fill the seat that will be vacated by the retirement of Justice Anthony Kennedy.

The 46-year-old Barrett grew up in Metrairie, Louisiana, a suburb of New Orleans, and attended St. Mary’s Dominican High School, a Catholic girls’ school in New Orleans. Barrett graduated magna cum laude from Rhodes College, a liberal arts college in Tennessee affiliated with the Presbyterian Church, in 1994. (Other high-profile alumni of the school include Abe Fortas, who served as a justice on the Supreme Court from 1965 to 1969 and Claudia Kennedy, the first woman to become a three-star general in the U.S. Army.) At Rhodes, she was a member of Phi Beta Kappa and was also recognized as the most outstanding English major and for having the best senior thesis.

After graduating from Rhodes, Barrett went to law school at Notre Dame on a full-tuition scholarship. She excelled there as well: She graduated summa cum laude in 1997, received awards for having the best exams in 10 of her courses and served as executive editor of the school’s law review.

Barrett then held two high-profile conservative clerkships, first with Judge Laurence Silberman of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit, from 1997-1998 then with the late Justice Antonin Scalia, from 1998-1999. After leaving her Supreme Court clerkship, she spent a year practicing law at Miller, Cassidy, Larroca & Lewin, a prestigious Washington D.C. litigation boutique that also claims former U.S. solicitor general Seth Waxman, former deputy attorney general Jamie Gorelick, and two regular contributors to this blog – John Elwood and editor Edith Roberts – as alums. Barrett went to Baker Botts, a Texas-based firm, after Miller Cassidy merged with the larger law firm, in 2000 and spent another year there before leaving for academia. To the chagrin of Democratic senators during her confirmation process, Barrett was only able to recall a few of the cases on which she had worked, and she indicated that she had not argued any appeals while in private practice.

Barrett spent a year as a law and economics fellow at George Washington University before heading to her alma mater, Notre Dame, in 2002 to teach federal courts, constitutional law and statutory interpretation. Barrett was named a professor of law at the school in 2010; four years later, she became the Diane and M.O. Research Chair of Law. Barrett twice received a “distinguished professor of the year” award, in 2010 and 2016.

While at Notre Dame, Barrett signed a 2012 “statement of protest” condemning the accommodation that the Obama administration created for religious employers who were subject to the ACA’s “birth control” mandate. The statement lamented that the accommodation “changes nothing of moral substance and fails to remove the assault on individual liberty and the rights of conscience which gave rise to the controversy.” Barrett was also a member of the Federalist Society, the conservative legal group, from 2005 to 2006 and then again from 2014 to 2017. In response to written questions from Democratic senators during her 7th Circuit confirmation process, Barrett indicated that she had rejoined the group because it gave her “the opportunity to speak to groups of interested, engaged students on topics of mutual interest,” but she added that she had never attended the group’s national convention.

The best insight into how Barrett might rule as a Supreme Court justice likely comes from her academic scholarship, an area in which she has been prolific. The Washington Post reported on Saturday that Trump wants a nominee with a “portfolio of solid academic writing,” and Barrett (perhaps more than any other nominee on the reported shortlist) fits that bill to a tee. Several of those articles, however, drew fire at Barrett’s 7th Circuit confirmation hearing, with Democratic senators suggesting that they indicate that Barrett would be influenced by her Catholic faith, particularly on the question of abortion.

Barrett co-wrote her first law review article, Catholic Judges in Capital Cases, with Notre Dame law professor John Garvey (now the president of the Catholic University of America); the article was published in the Marquette Law Review in 1998, shortly after her graduation from Notre Dame. It explored the effect of the Catholic Church’s teachings on the death penalty on federal judges, but it also used the church’s teachings on abortion and euthanasia as a comparison point, describing the prohibitions on abortion and euthanasia as “absolute” because they “take away innocent life.” The article also noted that, when the late Justice William Brennan was asked about potential conflict between his Catholic faith and his duties as a justice, he responded that he would be governed by “the oath I took to support the Constitution and laws of the United States”; Barrett and Garvey observed that they did not “defend this position as the proper response for a Catholic judge to take with respect to abortion or the death penalty.”

When questioned about the article at her 7th Circuit confirmation hearing, Barrett stressed that she did not believe it was “lawful for a judge to impose  personal opinions, from whatever source they derive, upon the law,” and she pledged that her views on abortion “or any other question will have no bearing on the discharge of my duties as a judge.” She acknowledged that, if she were instead being nominated to serve as a federal trial judge, she “would not enter an order of execution,” but she assured senators that she did not intend “as a blanket matter to recuse myself in capital cases if I am confirmed” and added that she had “fully participated in advising Justice Scalia in capital cases as a law clerk.”

Barrett’s responses did not mollify Feinstein, who suggested that Barrett had a “long history of believing that religious beliefs should prevail.” In a widely reported exchange, Feinstein told Barrett that, when “you read your speeches, the conclusion one draws is that the dogma lives loudly within you. And that’s of concern when you come to big issues that large numbers of people have fought for years in this country.”

In another article, Stare Decisis and Due Process, published in the University of Colorado Law Review, Barrett discussed the concept of stare decisis – a legal doctrine that generally requires courts to follow existing precedent, even if they might believe that it is wrong. Barrett wrote that courts and commentators “have thought about the kinds of reliance interests that justify keeping an erroneous decision on the books”; in a footnote, she cited (among other things) Planned Parenthood v. Casey, the 1992 decision reaffirming Roe v. Wade. Barrett’s detractors characterized the statement as criticism of Roe v. Wade itself, while supporters such as conservative legal activist Ed Whelan countered that the statement did not reflect Barrett’s views on Roe itself, but instead was just an example of competing opinions on the reliance interests in Roe.

Despite the criticism from Democrats, Barrett garnered bipartisan support at her 2017 confirmation hearing. A group of 450 former students signed a letter to the Senate Judiciary Committee, telling senators that their support was “driven not by politics, but by the belief that Professor Barrett is supremely qualified.” And she had the unanimous support of her 49 Notre Dame colleagues, who wrote that they had a “wide range of political views” but were “united however in our judgment about Amy.”

After Barrett’s confirmation hearing but before the Senate voted on her nomination, The New York Times reported that Barrett was a member of a group called People of Praise.” Group members, the Times indicated, “swear a lifelong oath of loyalty to one another, and are assigned and accountable to a personal adviser.” Moreover, the Times added, the group “teaches that husbands are the heads of their wives and should take authority for their family.” And legal experts questioned whether such oaths “could raise legitimate questions about a judicial nominee’s independence and impartiality.”

Barrett declined the Times’ request for an interview about People of Praise, whose website describes the group as an “ecumenical, charismatic, covenant community” modeled on the “first Christian community.” “Freedom of conscience,” the website says, “is a key to our diversity.” Slate recently interviewed the group’s leader, a physics and engineering professor at Notre Dame, who explained that members of the group “often make an effort to live near one another” and agree to donate 5% of their income to the group.

Barrett was confirmed to the 7th Circuit by a vote of 55 to 43. Three Democratic senators – her home state senator, Joe Donnelly, Virginia’s Tim Kaine, and Joe Manchin of West Virginia – crossed party lines to vote for her, while two Democratic senators (Claire McCaskill of Missouri and Robert Menendez of New Jersey) did not vote.

Because Barrett has spent just eight months on the 7th Circuit, she has compiled a relatively small body of opinions, most of them fairly uncontroversial. One case that would almost certainly draw attention if she were nominated came shortly after she took the bench: EEOC v. AutoZone, in which the federal government asked the full court of appeals to reconsider a ruling against the EEOC in its lawsuit against AutoZone, an auto parts store. The EEOC had argued that the store violated Title VII of the Civil Rights Act, which bars employees from segregating or classifying employees based on race, when it used race as a determining factor in assigning employees to different stores – for example, sending African-American employees to stores in heavily African-American neighborhoods. A three-judge panel (that did not include Barrett) ruled for AutoZone; Barrett joined four of her colleagues in voting to deny rehearing by the full court of appeals.

Three judges – Chief Judge Diane Wood and Judges Ilana Diamond Rovner and David Hamilton – would have granted rehearing en banc. Those three also had strong words in the dissenting opinion that they filed. They alleged that, under “the panel’s reasoning, this separate-but-equal arrangement is permissible under Title VII as long as the ‘separate’ facilities really are ‘equal’” – a conclusion, they continued, that is “contrary to the position that the Supreme Court has taken in analogous equal protection cases as far back as Brown v. Board of Education.”

Another high-profile case before the 7th Circuit involves the battle over “sanctuary cities” – jurisdictions that limit cooperation with federal immigration authorities. In June, the full court granted the federal government’s petition to reconsider part of a three-judge panel’s ruling that left in place a nationwide injunction against the federal government’s policy of withholding law-enforcement grants from such jurisdictions. The announcement means that the federal government can enforce the policy only against the city of Chicago, the plaintiff in the case. There is no way to know how Barrett voted on the government’s request, as the court’s order indicated only that a “majority of the judges participating in the en banc rehearing of this case” had voted in favor of the stay that the government had sought.

Barrett was also part of a panel that tackled another contentious issue in environmental and property law, as developers and farmers (among others) have contended that the federal government has gone too far: What constitutes the “waters of the United States” for purposes of determining whether the federal Clean Water Act applies to wetlands? In June of this year, Barrett joined a ruling written by Judge Amy St. Eve, also a Trump appointee to the 7th Circuit, that sent the case of an Illinois developer back to the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers for reconsideration. The Corps had found that the wetlands at issue – which were approximately 11 miles away from the nearest navigable river – were “waters of the United States,” but the panel (expressing some frustration) concluded that the determination by the Corps was not backed by “substantial evidence in the record” even though the “dispute has consumed almost as many years as the Warmke wetlands have acres.”

Barrett joined another ruling by St. Eve in the case of Kishunda Jones, who had been designated by her mother, Linda, as the beneficiary of her pension. When Linda, who suffered from a recurring form of cancer, died three days before her pension was supposed to begin, the committee that oversaw Linda’s pension rejected Kishunda’s request to receive the pension. It explained that, when a participant dies before her pension begins, only surviving spouses can receive a benefit from the pension. The panel agreed with the district court that the “facts of this case are undoubtedly unfortunate,” but it nonetheless upheld the district court’s ruling in favor of the pension fund on the ground that its decision was neither arbitrary nor capricious – all that the law requires in such a scenario.

In Schmidt v. Foster, Barrett dissented from the panel’s ruling in favor of a Wisconsin man who admitted that he had shot his wife seven times, killing her in their driveway. Scott Schmidt argued that he had been provoked, which would make his crime second-degree, rather than first-degree, homicide; the trial judge reviewed that claim at a pretrial hearing that prosecutors did not attend, and at which Schmidt’s attorney was not allowed to speak. The judge rejected Schmidt’s claim of provocation, and Schmidt was convicted of first-degree homicide and sentenced to life in prison. When Schmidt sought to overturn his conviction in federal court, the panel agreed that Schmidt had been denied his 6th Amendment right to counsel, and the court of appeals sent the case back to the lower court.

Barrett disagreed with her colleagues, in a separate opinion that began by  emphasizing that the standard for federal postconviction relief is “intentionally difficult because federal habeas review of state convictions” interferes with the states’ efforts to enforce their own laws. In this case, she contended, the state court’s decision rejecting Schmidt’s 6th Amendment claim could not have been “contrary to” or “an unreasonable application of” clearly established federal law (the requirement for relief in federal court) because the Supreme Court has never addressed a claim that a defendant has a right to counsel in a pretrial hearing like the one at issue in this case. While acknowledging that “[p]erhaps the right to counsel should extend to a hearing like the one the judge conducted in Schmidt’s case,” she warned that federal law “precludes us from disturbing a state court’s judgment on the ground that a state court decided an open question differently than we would—or, for that matter, differently than we think the [Supreme] Court would.”

In Akin v. Berryhill, Barrett joined a per curiam (that is, unsigned) decision in favor of a woman whose application for Social Security disability benefits had been denied by an administrative law judge (ALJ). The panel agreed with the woman, Rebecca Akin, that the ALJ had incorrectly “played doctor” by interpreting her MRI results on his own, and it instructed the ALJ to take another look at his determination that Akin was not credible. The panel indicated that it was “troubled by the ALJ’s purported use of objective medical evidence to discredit Akin’s complaints of disabling pain,” noting that fibromyalgia (one of Akin’s ailments) “cannot be evaluated or ruled out by using objective tests”; it also added that, among other things, the ALJ should not have discredited Akin’s choice to go with a more conservative course of treatment when she explained that “she was afraid of needles and that she wanted to wait until her children finished school before trying more invasive treatment.”

Barrett has been married for over 18 years to Jesse Barrett, who serves as an Assistant U.S. Attorney for the Northern District of Indiana. They have seven children (only two fewer than her old boss, Scalia). At her confirmation hearing, Barrett introduced three of her daughters, who were sitting behind her. She told senators that one daughter, then-13-year-old Vivian, was adopted from Haiti at the age of 14 months, weighing just 11 pounds; she was so weak at the time that the Barretts were told she might never walk normally or talk. The Barretts adopted a second child, Jon Peter, from Haiti after the 2011 earthquake, and Barrett described their youngest child, Benjamin, as having special needs that “present unique challenges for all of us.” Since becoming a judge, Barrett has reportedly commuted from her home in South Bend to Chicago, roughly 100 miles away, a few days a week; if she is nominated, she would likely move her family to the Washington, D.C., area and trade that commute for a shorter one to One First Street, N.E.

The post Potential nominee profile: Amy Coney Barrett appeared first on SCOTUSblog.

from Law http://www.scotusblog.com/2018/07/potential-nominee-profile-amy-coney-barrett/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[heathertolerfso]

Mastery Journal Reflection: You Belong Here!

Virginia Commonwealth University just opened International Contemporary Arts Center, (ICA)  a new museum at Belvedere and Broad.  I’ve watched the construction of this building wondering what it’d be. Initially, I thought it’d just be for students, a classroom, but then it turned out it was for us, for the city.

You Belong Here.

"You belong here" by Tavares Strachan. Photo by Joseph Vincent Grey.Tavares Strachan's, "You Belong Here" (Flamingo II) is currently installed at ICA and is on the 2nd-floor balcony facing Broad. Tavares' work left me experiencing something only to be explained as duende a heavy experience of emotions.  First time I saw this piece, really saw it - I cried.

When I was in undergrad I spent the last three months of that degree trying to convince my academic advisor to let me change majors. I wanted to be a designer. It was suggested to me to consider a second bachelor or go for my masters in Media Design.  I decided on the MFA, knowing I'd have to work to belong among these professionals, this cohort because I don’t belong here.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               I am a writer, a former tv/film hair, and makeup artist, but now I am to be a media designer.

It was only in the book that I realized I no longer had to work incredibly hard but simply exist, Stories that Move Mountains: Storytelling and Visual Design for Persuasive Presentations

Reading that book is when I realized I do belong here because a design is nothing but storytelling.

Storytelling is nothing but showcasing how a persons life was good until there was an “inciting incident” and he had to make a decision to make the hero’s journey and fix whatever “the problem” is and save the day...

The design is nothing but storytelling aka fixing problems, communicating why you need something.

My Top Three Takeaways:

1. Are You Communicating What You Think You Are?

Often we pop up with these funky designs, thinking we're innovating when its often just a jumbling piece of messaging. Simplify. Stop thinking that folks aren't “ready” when the truth is our execution of the message was poor.

2. If you’re quick to defend your choices, check your ego (Is it based on emotion or solid ground?)

I’ll never forget hearing Erykah Badu’s Tyrone for the first time, and it isn’t due to what you’re thinking. At the beginning of the track, Erykah starts off by saying, “Now keep in mind that I'm an artist and I'm sensitive about my sh*t.”  I’ve been learning to be passionate about what I do but learning to separate the critique of what I have created from the value of who I am. Don’t get me wrong, I'm sensitive about my work, but I’ve been able to glean some valuable lessons when I moved my ego out of the way and hear how I've executed the mission or haven't. This is where the RISE model of critique is so important. Citiiquogn to elevate the work and artistry of another is helpful to the artistry and the ego.

3. The WHY is relevant.

While reading Stories that Move Mountains, I realized I needed to complete my business presentation for client onboarding where we talk about “Their Why”.

Establishing what are they doing, why are they doing it, how are they doing it will be big in creating success for them.

This past year I figured out and reaffirmed my why and my focus.

My focus is the small business, offering those big business solutions to them to help them go out and impact the community, be it the author, coffee shop, whoever doing whatever.

I’ve had to solve design problems under crazy deadlines, such as figuring out how to do a custom menu, in forty minutes, for a restaurants premier during Black Restaurant Week.

Acquiring competencies was learning to wireframe ALL THINGS. The more I go straight to the design process the more time I waste on the other side of things. If I begin by taking the time to figure out what is absolutely essential to the floor plan and then adding it to the wireframe and eventually the iteration I finish with a well thought out product.

The best example of Connecting, Synthesizing, Transforming would be Rainy Day Toys. Connecting with the needs of the brand, learning to merge my needs with their wants and transforming it all into a happy medium

And finally, Innovating Thinking comes in with the HRC (Human Rights Campaign)  Testimonial ads. Learning what makes an ad successful, following the brand guiltiness and using their attributes.

All and all, this program has confirmed something for me.

I belong here.

[anastassiyav]

Week 3 + Reading General design principles

Game mechanics and how they connect to the concepts of challenge, skill and chance. 

Some of the concepts of this weeks lecture I had already wrote about during last weeks reading entry.

Game State

Game contrantly chances state - as a process of communication between the player and the game. Game state can change on different factors, such as the player advancing it or something more simple, like time.

Game state can be changes with power ups, entering combat, invinscibilty state, entering prison in monopoly, playing mini games within a bigger game.

Feedback

Feedback to players actions can enccreare the level of dopamine in the players brain - and make them addicted to playing the games and getting the feedback-reward. However it needs encreaced feedback which leads to encreaced challenge othweriwse the action in the game gets boring.

Skill

SKILL Whenever it’s measurable, it’s probably skill.

Chance

Randomness, unpredictability. Everything that is not measurable because doesn’t depend on something controllable.

SKILL GAMES CREATE HIERARCHIES LUCK GAMES REDISTRIBUTE POWER.

Ambuigulity  

Being free of social norms is a social norm. You can not take things that you did in the game outsidethe game, therefor those actions excist only in the ga,e, making it a space where you can do things that are normally not done.

Liminal and liminoid

LIMINAL Reaffirming and consolidating a social structure through a rite of passage.

Rite of Passage. Linear narration. Structured Play.

LIMINOID Progressive questioning and subversion of the standing order.

Protest - distrapt - etc. Unstructured play.

Readings:

Game, Design, Play - Chapter 3

Kinds of Play

This chapter breaks down and analyses various basic types of play.

Competitive Play

A kind of play where the some players win and some loose. Most likely the most common type of play.

Usually includes sport and most multiplayer games. Includes measuring each players skill against each other, with a goal of doing something better or lasting longer than the opponent.

Interesting concept that the chapter covers is something called Yomi – or knowing a mind of the opponent. I would describe it as a mixture of reading body language and analyzing the strategy your opponent is using to create a counter strategy as well taking advantage of their weaknesses.

Competition can be symmetrical and asymmetrical, one where player have the same abilities and a common goal, and a play where players have a different objectives and abilities (for example Among Us).

Cooperative Play

A game where players work together to achieve a goal, for example, escape rooms.

Cooperation can be symmetrical – all players have the same actions and basic attributes. Cooperation can be asymmetrical – each player will have a predetermined role but they have to cooperate in order to achieve the goal.

Another type of cooperative play is symbiotic – a type of play where players are reliant on each other and cannot complete the game without each other.

Skill-based Play

Game that uses skill development to achieve foals.

Skill can be active – precise movement, precise timing, for example, jumping in the Super Mario.

Skill can be also mental – this involves games such as puzzles, where one has to rely on memory.

Games like Portal combine both active and mental skills.

Experience Based Play

Game of explorations, unfolding story, communal engagement. This type of Play can involve no skill at all, and would just involve exploring a virtual space to unfold a story, for example.

Games of chance and uncertainly

Games that require strategies, games that remove decision making.

Perfect example would be a gambling game, such as poker or gwent.

Whimsical Play

Game that emphasis silly actions, unexpected results, play that you need to feel to understand.

Amusement park rides, rolling downhill, spinning around – - all are form of whimsical play. This kind of play is often about physical silliness. I might be wrong, but for me a video game example of a whimsical game would be something like Octodad, because it is much unexpected and sabots physical silliness of controlling an octopus.

Role-Playing

Players have to take on certain roles and follow loose rules, usually the game play is only limited by imagination. Role-playing is closely related to storytelling and a way of experience the story.

I think various adventure games, where you play as a certain character, like cyberpunk, Red dead redemption or Witcher can be considered role-playing games.

Performative Play

Theatrical form of play, includes improvisation.

Those types of games are fun to watch and to play. Various dancing games, or games like charades fit int his type of play.

Expressive Play

A form of play that subverts player choice in effort to express and share an experience.

This can be intended by the designer or derived from the player.  Usually this form of play is used in music and TV, but it can be found in games, too, for example in various text based games.

Simulation Based Play

Play that models a real-worlds system and presents a point of view.

Simulation games can be in a top perspective or in the eye view perspective, they can be limited and simple, like Papers Please or massive, like SimCity, where you have to control whole city.

Those types of play can and should be combined in order to create new play experiences.

Instead of thinking about an experience, game designer should think what created that experience and translate it into a game form.

Exercises

1.       Choose a game and describe it using one or more of the kinds of play described.

The Sims – Role-playing Simulator with a bit of whimsical, if you consider how silly the Sims act and the gibberish they speak.

The Sims is clearly a Simulator, but considering that you also play as the character you create it I also has a lot, if not more, role-playing elements to it.

2.       Take the game above and apply another kind of play to it. What happens?

I always had craved the Sims to be a little bit edgier, either by adding more character interactions to the game, for example removing the censorship and allow Sims to fight, rob and murder each other, which can and an element of skill or chance to the game. My another idea is to add more storytelling and mysteries to the game, that you can explore while role-playing as your Sim, turning it an experience type of game.

3.       Turn a competitive game into a cooperation one.

It would be quite fun to turn a game such as Fall Guys into a cooperation Game – you will only pass the level if all 50 of you can finish the finish line, so you would need to actively help each to pass obstacles.

A Gameful World - pages 0-23

Reach of games design and game art happened in late 2000.

Gamification started by an app called Foursquare, which would give users awards and achievement badges for visiting certain types of places and even rewards, such as discounts. The app used leader boards and mayor ships to make the users compete with each other. I find it amusing as I have been using and am still suing this app and I have to admit that it did became boring since the app lost its popularity and stopped actually being competitive – I am a mayor practically everywhere I go. I dint however knew that they were among the first apps to use gamification – today it’s so common, almost every app I use have this kinds of achievements and rewards.

Gamification is used in health and wellness, for example in Nike running app.

Users of fitness app can set goals and participate in social competitions, for example who walked the most steps per month mount the participants. You can also see you score against all the competitors and measure you fitness level against others.

Similar system is used in online educational platforms, where you can earn rewards by learning. Some universities have achievement system for non curriculum activities. Even my boarding school had a reward system for getting As, our headmaster would give away mars bars for that, but I do not know if that was really a gamification – our dining hall was really bad, and those mars bars were essential to good nutrition.

 Lots of people resist gamification – game designers and academia members argue that  forcibly gamified products will never be as engaging as well designed games. I agree, but I think those products are doing a good job at motivation and keeping track of things, which is a big plus for people who are obsessed with data and keeping some kind of score – I have this app that lets me keep track of my birth control and cycle, and to be honest I am a bit sad it does just that, there are no rewards or achievements. I kind of wish to get a badge, like, 100 pills taken on time, etc.

It is argues that this type of gamification only frames ply as a pursuit of goals – while play and games crucially depend on..playfulness and enjoyment. Gamification in examples above is used to organize, analyze, provide structure, but playing I often a disruptive activity, used to break patterns and take a break from norms.

 Being playful is the engine of innovation.

[onestowatch]

Caity Krone Validates The Feelings You Have For Your Crush On Her Debut EP ‘Work of Art’

Photo By: Shelby Schumitzky

Having a crush on someone can be all-consuming. It starts with texting back and forth while overthinking every reply, knowing not to invest too much of yourself into something so new. Yet you also want to believe that this time might be different. You begin to let your walls down and start daydreaming about them sitting in the passenger seat of your car, driving to a location that is truly irrelevant, as long as they’re by your side. But then suddenly, you stop at a red light and realize that you haven’t heard from them in a couple days and start to spin out over why that might be. Did you say something wrong? Did you not say enough? You check their Instagram to check if they’ve posted lately and they have. You decide it’s over. The two of you will never talk again. And you stand by that, until they text you and you fall all over again. In her debut EP, Work of Art, Caity Krone perfectly encapsulates the process of allowing someone to shape your life due to unrequited love, and all of the highs and lows that follow.

Krone starts the EP by being incredibly self-aware on the title track, which is accompanied by a music video that brings each word to life. She sings the opening lines, “Could have been a painter / Could have studied law / Instead you are my paintbrush / You’re my curriculum,” letting you know that she isn’t oblivious to her fixation on her crush. During the first verse we see Krone as an excited college student on campus, an agitated cheerleader on a football field, and a sophisticated woman swinging at a farm. According to Krone, these characters symbolize being the object of affection in the eye of your crush, being jealous that you’re not the one they’re fixated on and being the idealized version of yourself hoping to win them over, respectively. As we reach the chorus we realize that Krone is involved in a love triangle of sorts, as she sings, “You say she’s a work of art / You pick her up from school / But she blows you off / Don’t you know you’re all I want.” During the chorus we also meet a new character that has her face painted in various colors, which is representative of you being enough as your true self, flaws and all.

As the song continues, the instrumentation on the track builds with the addition of electric guitar, percussion, and piano, which peaks during the instrumental bridge. Throughout the video there are bits of footage that were recorded on film that add a vintage-y feel, adding a certain timelessness to both it and the song. “Work of Art” functions as self-admittance of behavior, while also being confessional about feelings for a crush. “The song leans into the more jarring and creepy parts of having a crush, and the less graceful bits of wanting attention from someone who is fixated on someone else,” Krone says. The outro gives listeners closure as she decides to choose herself as she sings, “So I went back to school / Stopped drinking coffee / And talking to Molly / I spent four months writing this record about you / I’m sorry.” The last two lines are instrumental in kicking off the rest of the record, as Krone takes ownership over her narrative.

“Hotel on a Mountain,” the second track on the EP, furthers the story. Uptempo, fingerpicked, acoustic guitar initially sets the flippant tone of the song, as you could listen to the instrumental intro on repeat while shaking your hips and wagging your finger to the beat. Krone’s vocal holds an underlying attitude, that is only heightened by the lyric, as she sings, “But you live in a hotel on a mountain / Thanks for gracing us with your time.” “Hotel on A Mountain” seems to be reaffirming for Krone, knowing she deserves more. Followed up by “Thank You for the Sunday Paper,” we experience a new level of intimacy from Krone. While the previous two tracks felt a bit cheeky, yet sincere, this is the first time that we’re experiencing her with all of her walls down, vulnerable and raw. The instrumentation consists of only piano, as Krone reminisces, singing, “When our friends talk about you it's hard to drown them out / Because borrowing your dreams has left me lonely now / And I lost a part of myself that's begging to be found.” Thematically, “Thank You for the Sunday Paper” enhances the message that often the hardest decisions are usually the right ones.

The 4th song on the EP, “21,” is an interlude of sorts, being both the shortest song and the only one not containing a chorus. Krone wrote it shortly after her 21st birthday, while reflecting on the life that she had created for herself and realizing that she wasn’t where she wanted to be within her relationships. The arrangement of the electric guitar and percussion, set the tone of frustration towards herself, while the lyric exposes insecurity, as she sings, “Could I have played my cards differently baby? / Could I have shown you how you wanted to treat me? / No.” She was surrounding herself with people she didn’t like just so she wouldn’t feel alone, “There was a phase / Where I'd let anyone come around just to take up space.”

The last song on the record, “I’ve Been Lonely” brings us to a place of dream-like whimsy. The combination of the strummed acoustic guitar, piano, percussion, and banjo create a light atmosphere that supports Krone’s vocal in the most delicate of ways. The song could soundtrack anything between driving down the PCH with the sunset on the horizon to twirling around the kitchen as you make dinner for a party of one. Throughout the EP, Krone has seemed to hold herself back from imagining what it would be like to actually be with her crush. This is the first time we hear her allow herself to dream, as she sings, “So hold on to me tight / We're gonna take on the world / I'll be your baby and we're gonna take on the world.” This song is the sonic representation of what it feels like when your crush looks at you in the hallway in school, or bumps knees with you under the table at lunch, and the explosion of butterflies in your stomach ensues. While this song seems to be about another person, you could also interpret it as Krone falling back in love with herself, after trying to change herself for someone else.

Throughout these five songs we are taken through each stage of having a crush: butterflies, infatuation, idealization, jealousy, and finally the strength it takes to let it go and come back to yourself, when you know you deserve more. Krone explains, “‘Work of Art is about the way a person can sometimes feel like the undercurrent of your entire life.” She continues, “About adoring them while also being overly critical of them to try and shake yourself out of wanting them, about finding ways to reclaim your own confidence, your own magic, because it feels like you’ve had it all on the back burner for so long.” People often struggle to convey their feelings about a person that they loved, but were never really with, because the feelings seem invalid. Work of Art is a testament to the legitimization of those feelings, making everyone that listens feel more secure within themselves.

[renna-translations]

Picture Book of My First Love (Chapter 3)

This is beyond late, but here it is!

Here’s the third chapter of the novel adaption of HoneyWorks’ “Hatsukoi no Ehon (Picture Book of My First Love)“ about the president of the Art Club, Miou, and the Film Club’s star, Haruki. The two third years from Sakuragaoka High School walk home together every day, but Miou is too shy to tell him her feelings. While helping with his movie, Miou asks him, “Do you have a crush on anyone?” and to her great surprise, Haruki answers, “I do.” And what’s more, Haruki confesses to Natsuki, his childhood friend?!

Masterpost with links to all the translated chapters can be found here. You can find the masterpost with all the Confession Executive Committee/Sound of Confession series-related translations here.

←Chapter 2　|　Chapter 4→

＊If you can, I highly encourage supporting the creators by buying the book for yourself at Amazon!

——

Chapter 3

Summer was nearing its end, and the autumn bugs were starting to make themselves heard amongst the cries of the cicadas at sunset.

Feeling a cool breeze brush against his neck, Haruki looked up from his laptop.

The lights in the room were on, but he hadn’t noticed them come on, and Souta, who should have been sitting next to him editing the script, was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he’d turned the lights on his way out, since Haruki was still staying behind to work.

“....Crap, what time is it now?”

“Almost time for the school to be locked up for the day.”

Having not expected to hear a reply, Haruki startled in his seat on his folding chair.

Akechi Saku, his homeroom teacher, as well as the Film Club advisor, peered in from the doorway. Although he was in charge of teaching Classical Japanese, he always wore a white labcoat as part of his uniform for some reason, and even now, it stood out in the dim light.

“Just you? Where’s Setoguchi and Mochizuki?”

Akechi came inside, his sandals making slapping sounds against the tile floor.

Haruki had been startled by Akechi’s sudden appearance, but that ridiculous sound, paired with that monotone voice, made him let out a sigh.

“Yuu has prep school, and Mochita…. probably went home.”

“Probably? Ah, I see…. You didn’t even notice when he told you he was heading home, huh?”

As a teacher, Akechi didn’t bother with touching on the fact that Haruki, as usual, spoke so casually towards him.

They were well-acquainted due to Akechi being a friend of Haruki’s older brother, but more than anything, it was mostly because Haruki didn’t care. Akechi had to go as far as telling him, “Call me ‘Sensei’ when we’re at school.”

‘In the first place, he hardly even seems like a teacher.’

As Akechi peered over at the laptop screen with great interest, both his hands stuffed into the pockets of his lab coat, he didn’t look all that different from Haruki and the others. At best, he might pass for a graduate student, but he hardly seemed like an adult at all.

It wasn’t because he had a baby face or anything, but perhaps because he gave off the impression of being aloof and unworldly.

‘Although to put it in one word, I’d say he looks downright shady.’

“Huh? What, so you were just checking over your movie?”

‘….I want to say, ‘What did you think I was looking at?’ but that’d be like admitting defeat.’

As Haruki started to put away his laptop in silence, Akechi, who must have found his reaction boring, reached over to place a hand on his shoulder.

Before Haruki could shrug his off, Akechi lowered his voice to say,

“When a high school boy is staring intently at something in a dark room all alone, it’s usually…. You know what I mean, right?”

“No one asked!”

As Haruki made that retort while actually shaking him off this time, Akechi moved away with a light laugh.

“If you’re making rounds, hurry up and get going already.”

“My turn to do that isn’t until tomorrow.”

“What? Then seriously, what’d you even come here for?”

“Why, to do my job as an advisor, of course.”

Noticing that Akechi’ had suddenly lowered his tone, Haruki paused and turned around.

As Haruki stared back at him, Akechi gave a small nod.

“You made it through the preliminaries for the contest.”

“....Cool.”

“Hopefully, you’ll be able to keep this up and win.”

“....Yeah.”

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic. What, aren’t you happy about that?”

“.....”

Having run out of curt, one-word responses, Haruki fell into an awkward silence.

The contest that he’d passed the preliminaries for this time had a prize that he wanted more than anything.

The winner would be given the chance to study abroad.

‘Although, even if I don’t win, I still plan on studying abroad.’

Still, he’d prefer to keep any conflict with those around him to a minimum if possible.

If his movie gained recognition, and a university from overseas recruited him—

If that happened, both the school and his parents would be sure to understand.

At the very least, it would go a whole lot smoother than simply proposing that he wanted to go study at a film school overseas.

‘Then…. why am I suddenly hesitating now….?’

“You still have something holding you back here, don’t you?”

Haruki startled. The timing with which Akechi said this made it seem as if he’d read his mind.

Akechi was smirking again, and staring in his direction.

“....I thought I told you to quit watching people like that.”

Haruki glared back at him, but Akechi’s grin only widened.

Haruki didn’t have to ask to know why. He was smiling as if to say, “I guessed right, didn’t I?”

‘It’s frustrating that I only realized after having Saku-nii point it out, but….’

Haruki had figured out that he did indeed have something holding him back, and also what that something was.

At the same time, seeing as how he’d needed someone to point it out, he realized that he had been unconsciously trying to deny it.

“A wise man once said, ‘What is done cannot be undone.’ And also, ‘You never know what you have until it’s gone.’”

Hearing him say this so clearly made Haruki look up, but Saku was already at the door.

He turned around, and for once, he wore an expression that actually made him look like a teacher.

“With that said, do your best to enjoy your youth.”

How does what you said have anything to do with that?

Haruki wanted to make that retort, but in the end, he just silently watched him go.

Now that he was all alone, the room was almost disturbingly quiet.

❀　❁　❀　❁　❀

When he stopped to think about it, summer had gone by so quickly this year.

By the time they’d finished shooting the extra scenes, and started to compile everything together, the new term was already beginning.

Students were starting to adjust their school uniforms for the changing seasons, with short sleeves being swapped out for long ones.

‘Damn, I feel like time just keeps slipping by….’

Haruki tousled the hair on the back of his head as he walked down the empty hallway.

It was a habit of his to walk around the school when he was stuck on ideas.

For some strange reason, he found he was able to think better only after forcefully emptying his mind.

“I mean, it’s the same with computers, too. They run better if you free up more space.”

“Now, if only you had a function to come back on your own, it’d be perfect.”

Souta nodded in agreement while Yuu smiled, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

As soon as Haruki came up with an idea, he would start taking notes on the spot to make sure he wouldn’t forget, so often times, he wouldn’t come back for close to an hour. Whenever that happened, the other two would come looking for him.

‘Honestly, they’re such good sports~’

Maybe it was because of the ventilation, or the fact that the window was open a crack, but he could the voices of the Baseball Club from outside.

‘....Sounds like there’s even less of them running around out there.’

With all the third years retiring from the sports clubs, it made sense that there were only the first and second years left behind.

Due to the fact that the Film Club was a culture club, Haruki and the others planned to keep going with their club activities up until graduation, though they had already given up their positions of president and vice president to their juniors.

‘Graduation, huh….? It still hasn’t sunk in….’

The film that he was in the midst of working on right now also doubled as his graduation project.

Haruki didn’t really pay attention to the theme of “graduation,” but it was different for Yuu and Souta.

Once they’d reaffirmed the importance of their roles, and the significance of the three of them creating something together, they worked actively for that goal. Souta, who was in charge of the script, had worked particularly hard in writing a touching love story about a first year heroine who was in love with a graduating upperclassman.

‘....I’m positive that this film will be a turning point for me.’

Lately, every time he picked up the camera, and every time he received an award, his feeling of impatience would grow stronger.

Isn’t this just a rehash of what I did last time? Is there even any point to what I’m filming?

It felt like his focus was blurring the more he thought about it, which only made him panic even more. And the more he panicked, the less confidence he had in his decisions. Before he knew it, he was stuck in a vicious cycle.

But if he was with those two, he just might be able to break free from this cycle.

He’d be able to exceed the limits that he’d placed on himself, and reach a new domain.

‘More importantly, I want to meet their standards….’

That was how he felt, but lately, things were starting to feel uneasy between the three of them.

In particular, something must have happened with Yuu over summer vacation, because he was a lot quicker to anger now.

During yesterday’s meeting, as well, they had started out talking about how Akari was progressing with the artwork, and somehow the conversation had shifted to their love lives.

Haruki had been the first one to bring it up.

But, after hearing Souta say that Akari was his first love, Haruki had only said, “Yuu, like you’re one to talk when you can’t even face your first love,” without any special meaning behind his words.

‘....No, that isn’t true.’

To be honest, he had been trying to shake him up a bit.

If Yuu was going to torture himself by playing along with Natsuki’s confession rehearsals without even confirming her feelings first, he might as well be honest about his own feelings for her.

“Speaking of which.… Haruki, how are things between you and Aida?”

“Same as usual? Or, well actually, she said she can’t walk home with me for a while.”

Yuu must have wanted to get back at him by bringing up Miou.

That’s why Haruki had told him the truth. He’d actually received that text from Miou before summer vacation had started, but he saw no reason to go into that much detail.

“....Actually, Haruki and Aida aren’t even going out with each other, right?”

“Ah, I wanted to ask about that, too.”

Contrary to his expectations, Yuu refused to back down, and Souta had joined in, as well.

He knew full well that no harm would come from answering that question.

In the first place, there was nothing going on between him and Miou, so there was nothing to hide.

He was certain that Yuu and Souta were already aware of Haruki’s feelings towards Miou. Just like how Haruki had figured out their crushes, it was just something obvious after spending so much time with each other.

It was a good opportunity to make things clear.

But another part of him immediately objected.

The reason that Yuu asked about Miou was because he’d been misunderstanding something.

After Natsuki had told him about her confession “rehearsals,” Yuu thought that she planned to confess to someone other than him.

And it would seem that Haruki was being treated as being one of the possible candidates.

‘I wondered why he thinks it’s me, but for Natsuki, it must be hard just to find someone she’d confess to.’

While it was obviously because the one Natsuki liked was none other than Yuu, there wasn’t any gossip of her being around other guys. Even if she hung out with Haruki and the others, everyone knew that they were childhood friends, so there was nothing surprising about that.

But Yuu knew better than anyone that childhood friends were no exception.

That was probably why he saw Haruki as a rival.

‘Anyway, isn’t he being a bit too narrow minded?’

If Haruki wanted to be indifferent about this, it really didn’t matter to him what misunderstandings Yuu had.

But to be honest, he didn’t like the way Yuu just went around collecting information to reassure himself instead of just telling Natsuki how he felt.

‘Although, Natsuki backed out at the last minute too, calling it a rehearsal and all….’

Still, there was no denying that she’d taken a small step forward, and would probably go for the real thing in the near future.

That’s why Haruki didn’t want Yuu taking the easy way out.

“And what would be the point in asking? If I told you that I was going out with Aida…. No, that’s not right. If I said that I liked anyone other than Natsuki, would you feel relieved? And then what?”

What’ll you do once you know that I’m not the one Natsuki likes?

Go and confess to her yourself. If you don’t, nothing’s going to change.

Haruki stared at Yuu without saying another word.

On the other hand, Yuu was at a loss for words, and could only stare blankly back at Haruki.

The silence continued for a while, and a tense atmosphere enveloped the club room.

It was only due to Souta being there that a definite rift didn’t open up between them.

Souta, who had been quietly observing the situation, didn’t blame Haruki for his provocation, but he didn’t try to smooth things over, either.

He just gave them a chance to change the subject by saying, “Aren’t you guys hungry?”

‘And after this, apparently Ayase hit him with a counter punch….’

At the ramen shop they’d gone to, for some reason, Koyuki had joined them to make a table of four.

It was due to Souta inviting him that had made this unlikely gathering a reality.

“Yukki! Wait no, I mean, Ayase-kun! Are you free right now? Wanna come eat ramen with us?”

“Ahaha, you can call me Yukki if you’d like. Ramen? Sure, I’d love to.”

Souta was fascinated with the way Koyuki had transformed himself, so he probably couldn’t help but call out to him when recognizing him from afar.

Koyuki had seemed surprised about the sudden invitation, but he accepted with a smile on his face.

Haruki just saw it as their party size increasing by one, and wasn’t particularly affected.

Yuu, however, had an unusually sour look on his face.

Haruki guessed that meant something really had taken place between him and Koyuki over the summer break, and feeling that this was the perfect opportunity, he patted Yuu smartly on the back.

“Well isn’t this a great opportunity? To have a nice man-to-man talk, that is.”

And just as Haruki had predicted, Yuu and Haruki had a one-to-one confrontation.

After they’d finished eating and left the ramen shop, Koyuki had pulled Yuu aside to talk about something.

‘Well, it’s probably about Natsuki…. I wonder what they’ve got planned.’

The fastest way would be for Natsuki to move on from her confession rehearsals and move forward with the real thing.

But Haruki knew it wasn’t very reasonable to expect that of her.

Natsuki was one of his precious childhood friends. He would support her, but he couldn’t force her to do anything.

Koyuki was free to confess his feelings to her if he wanted to. He could already see the outcome, but who could have the heart to tell him to keep them to himself just because it would make things complicated?

Thunk.

The sudden noise made Haruki stop in his tracks.

He was so lost in thought, for a moment, he had no idea where he was.

Looking around, he caught sight of the sign with the classroom number.

‘Huh, isn’t this Yuu’s class….?’  

Casually peeking inside, Haruki spotted a familiar bun-shaped hairstyle.

He immediately felt something was out of place, seeing that Natsuki was sitting in Yuu’s seat.

Natsuki had her face down on the desk, and wasn’t moving an inch.

‘Wait, hold up, she’s not crying or anything, is she?’

He considered just walking away, but his curiosity led him to enter the classroom.

“Natsuki? What’re you doing?”

Suddenly having someone call her name must have given her a scare, making her jump up from the seat with a startled scream.

Haruki casually checked Natsuki’s face, but it showed no signs of any crying.

He felt relief, just as his agitated childhood friend addressed him.

“H-Haruki? What’s up? Did you forget something? Wait, this isn’t even your class.”

“Wow, good job on delivering your own punchline. So Natsuki, what are you doing at Yuu’s desk?”

Haruki knew that it was a rather insensitive question to ask, but he still came out and said it.

And just as he’d expected, Natsuki turned beet red.

She probably hadn’t expected him to know it was Yuu’s desk, seeing how they were in different classes. Natsuki waved her hands around defensively, and only managed to stutter out, “No, um, this isn’t…”

‘I see, so that means she was sitting at Yuu’s desk on purpose.’

If not, she wouldn’t be overreacting like this right now.

Since she could have just replied with something like, “I was just borrowing his seat,” or “Oh, I didn’t know this was Yuu’s desk,” there could only be one reason why she was so flustered.

‘Well, not that I plan on pointing out every little thing.’

Deciding that he’d retrieve his dictionary now that he was already here, Haruki walked up to Yuu’s desk.

Yuu was supposed to return it once their club activities were over, but he probably wouldn’t mind giving it back a little earlier than that.

‘And it’ll give me an excuse for having come to this classroom.’

Haruki motioned for Natsuki to make room, seeing how she was just standing there awkwardly.

“Well, I just came to take back something I let him borrow. Excuse me.”

“Ah, right….”

The inside of Yuu’s desk was as tidy as usual, and he found the dictionary he was looking for right away.

The cover of the dictionary that his brother had handed down to him was all worn out, clearly showing that it had been used a lot. After the ownership had been passed to Haruki, it had been stuck full of sticky notes and memos between its pages, increasing its thickness.

“….An English dictionary?”

“Mm, yeah. We got an extra assignment to do.”

“Ahh! Right, Haruki, you’ve always been terrible at English, huh?”

“Shut up. I’m telling ya, I’ll be totally fluent one of these days.”

He heard Natsuki let out a sigh at his usual joking reply.

It would be easy to keep pretending he didn’t know anything, but he suddenly recalled Yuu and Koyuki from the day before.

It didn’t make sense for Natsuki’s timing to confess be affected by their situation.

He’d only just been thinking about not getting so involved a moment ago, but in the end, it still bothered him.

‘It’s fine if I just give her a little push, right….?’

“And what about you? Those confession rehearsals… Still not ready for the real deal yet?”

“….W-Well…. about that….”

Natsuki’s shoulders gave a jolt at having the conversation suddenly focused on her, and she looked visibly flustered.

He had heard that she’d been busy with the art contest since the beginning of July, and the confession rehearsals had been put on hold. But now that she was only waiting for the results to come out, she couldn’t keep using that excuse.

He was certain that Natsuki knew full well of that herself.

“….Sorry to disappoint you.”

Seeing Natsuki’s shoulders slump dejectedly, Haruki felt a little bad for asking.

‘There’s probably two reasons she’s apologizing….’

One was because she’d let the confession end as a rehearsal, and the other was because she still couldn’t move forward with the real thing.

Perhaps it was the fact that Haruki had helped her with the confession that day before summer vacation that she felt he was justified in bringing up things she really had no reason to apologize for.

‘That’s right, this is how Natsuki’s always been….’

She was an honest and “good” person, and hardly ever doubted others.

She might deny it, but from an outsider’s point of view, it was like she never even considered the possibility that there might be some hidden agenda behind a person’s actions.

Even just now, he was sure that she realized he’d asked her about the confession because he was worried about himself.

‘....Well, not that I’m not worried about Natsuki, too.’

Not wanting Natsuki to keep apologizing for the wrong reasons, Haruki grinned at her.

He wanted her to know that he’d only asked her that question earlier to tease her.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. It just means that you have your own timing, right? I’ll be rooting for you, so hurry up and confess like your life depends on it! Well, maybe I shouldn’t make that joke.”

“Haruki, that’s not funny,”

Natsuki replied in a serious tone, but the air around her was a lot lighter compared to earlier.

Feeling relieved, Haruki let himself burst into laughter.

“….Just kidding. I shouldn’t be chastising others when I’m not much better.”

Haruki was surprised at the unexpected bitterness that came out in his voice.

Natsuki blinked several times, surprised by the sudden confession.

“Wait, I didn’t know that you had a crush on someone too!”

“Sure I do. Something wrong with that?”

“Of course not! I’m rooting for you too!”

“Well that was a quick response.”

Haruki let a laugh escape, but Natsuki didn’t laugh along with him, and merely stared back.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable by how hard she was staring, he urged her to speak up.

“Yes?”

“How come you haven’t confessed to her, then?”

“….I want to focus on finishing the movie, first.”

The words flowed out smoothly, as if he had rehearsed them beforehand.

Since Natsuki was also postponing her confession for a similar reason, it looked like she couldn’t say anything. She tilted her head and made a humming noise, as if contemplating over Haruki’s words.

And then, as if she’d come up with the answer, her face suddenly lit up.

After knowing her for so long, Haruki knew she was about to say something outrageous.

He could only brace himself to take the explosive statements to follow.

“In that case, why not try doing a confession rehearsal?”

Just as he’d expected, a completely unpredictable proposal had come hurling at him from some impossible angle.

He had no idea how she’d even come to that conclusion.

It was a pretty big jump to suggest a confession rehearsal just because he couldn’t confess.

Unable to find the words, Haruki could only muster the simplest response.

“….What?”

“I don’t mean with the girl you like, but….”

“Oh, you mean with you?”

“Yeah! When I tried actually confessing, even if it ended up being just practice in the end, I was really nervous. And after I told him I liked him….”

Natsuki stopped mid-sentence and placed a hand on top of her cardigan, where her heart was.

Haruki couldn’t help but hold his breath at the look of inexplicable happiness on her face.

“I’m thinking of confessing to him for real next time.”

“…Really? Good for you.”

Haruki answered before he even had time to think about it.

He had been greatly disappointment when he’d heard about how Natsuki’s confession to Yuu had ended up as a rehearsal. And to make things worse, Yuu now mistakenly assumed that Natsuki planned to actually confess to someone else. It was enough to make Haruki think that it would’ve been better if Natsuki had just played the confession off as a joke.

‘To be honest, I still kind of think that way….’

But right now, he felt like the answer could be found in the expression Natsuki had on her face.

“Why do people fall in love?”

He was sure of it now, the answer to his question—

‘Come to think of it, isn’t this the first time I’ve ever confessed to anyone?’

His heartbeat quickened the moment he realized that.

He knew it was just a rehearsal, but his nerves showed no sign of subsiding.

‘....Sheesh, who knew I was such a coward?’

It was pathetic, but once he admitted that, he felt a little more relaxed.

As Haruki mumbled to himself to practice for the confession, he saw Natsuki quietly moving away.

She was probably trying to be considerate and give him some space.

‘I appreciate the thought, but it’s only having a negative effect right now.’

“Sorry to make you wait. I’m ready now, so whenever you are too.”

As Haruki hurriedly called out to her, he wanted to laugh at how cornered he sounded.

Natsuki froze in surprise.

“Ah, okay….”

One step at a time, Haruki closed the distance between them.

Natsuki must have found the tense atmosphere too much for her, and was looking down now.

“….Hey—”

He had only said one word so far, but his voice was already trembling.

He could feel heat gathered in his face, and pain in his chest.

She must have caught his nerves, because her face was also bright red.

‘Crap, what was I supposed to say again?’

His mind had turned blank, and he couldn’t recall the lines he’d just practiced.

The only words that remained were unmistakably his true feelings.

“You might be misunderstanding something, but she’s not the one I like…”

No, now he was just making excuses.

He was joking about it to himself now, but it was something that had always bothered him.

Miou had started acting strangely after the meeting in the art preparation room.

When she had texted him saying that she couldn’t walk home with him for a while, maybe she had also been trying to tell him that she didn’t want to go home with him.

“Haruki, you shouldn’t base everything on your own standards.”

Although he didn’t remember from when exactly, Haruki suddenly remembered Souta telling him that once before.

He didn’t understand what Souta had meant at the time, but he felt like now, he did.

During the meeting, Haruki said something some pretty harsh things to Miou.

He had been trying to encourage her, but maybe he had only managed to push her away.

‘....That’s really how I thought it was.’

But at the time, he refused to believe that he had messed up.

All because he thought that he was the one who understood Miou the most.

But even so.

Even if that were the case, that didn’t change Haruki’s feelings for her.

He would make sure he conveyed them clearly, and take a fresh step forward.

“I like you!”

As soon as he finished saying this, they heard the door shake with a loud rattle.

Startled, Natsuki and Haruki turned around, but they didn’t see anyone there.

“….Guess it was just the wind.”

“Probably.”

The moment they had finished with the confession rehearsal, there had been a sudden, mysterious loud noise. His heart was pounding so fast, he thought it might explode. Worried, he placed a hand over his chest.

He glanced up to look at Natsuki, and saw that she was making the exact same pose as him. It was like looking in a mirror.

She seemed to have realized this too, as as soon as they made eye contact, they both burst out laughing at the same time.

“Damn, I never thought confessing was so nerve-wracking.”

“Ah, come to think of it, Haruki, is this your first time confessing?”

“Yeah. I’m usually the one that’s always being confessed to.”

“What? Well if you say so~”

The atmosphere from earlier had completely disappeared, and Natsuki sounded like herself again.

As Haruki laughed, he glanced in the direction of the hallway.

‘Mochita…. and Hayasaka?’

His eyes widened as he recognized their retreating figures.

Had they overheard the confession rehearsal just now? They hadn’t taken it the wrong way, right?

It bothered him, but since he wasn’t sure if it was really them or not, he didn’t go after them.

‘Even if they did overhear, I’ll just clear up any misunderstandings later.’

At the time, Haruki had yet to realize that he’d made another misjudgement.

You shouldn’t base everything on your own standards.

It would be a long time before Haruki realized the true meaning behind Souta’s warning—

❀　❁　❀　❁　❀

It was fall now, and with each passing day, the nights grew longer.

Lately, the sunset would come so quickly, it was hard to stop by anywhere on the way home.

In just less than an hour, the sun would completely set.

‘At this rate, it’ll be dark out by the time Miou reaches her house.’

He had to bring it up soon.

But it had been so long since they’d spent time together like this, part of him couldn’t help but want to prolong it for even just a few more seconds.

He snuck a glance at Miou sitting beside him, and saw that she was silently watching the sunset.

‘Damn, I wish I’d brought my camera.’

The view from the top of the steps was one of Haruki’s favorites. It was perfect for just passing the time, and he had taken numerous shots here so far.

However, he had yet to get a single shot of Miou.

He was a bit embarrassed to do so, and more importantly, she didn’t seem to like being photographed, either.

There had been a time that he’d pointed the camera at her as a joke, and she had turned bright red and been on the brink of tears.

“Huh? What, you don’t like having your picture taken, Miou?”

“Well, not exactly…. I just think there are better things to take pictures of!”

Since she refused so insistently, Haruki had turned the camera away.

He knew how shy and reserved she was.

That what why he found her reaction so cute, but now, seeing how she’d refused in that self-depreciating way, he regretted not trying harder to convince her.

Don’t say there are better things to take pictures of.

It’s you, specifically, that I wanted to take a picture of.

Even if he’d said that, Miou probably wouldn’t change her mind so easily.

But it was important, more than he could ever know, to tell her in his own words what he thought, and how he felt.

‘....In the end, it’s these small incidents that just keep piling up.’

The results for the film contest would be announced next week.

He decided to go to the art room again and talk to Miou before the results came out.

He wanted to come out and tell her his feelings, on his own terms.

It had been a while since either of them had said a word.

Making up his mind, Haruki took a deep breath and turned to face Miou again.

“H-Haruki-kun, do you have a crush on anyone?”

The timing with which Miou popped this question was impeccable.

Having been thrown off guard, Haruki found himself short of breath.

“Ah, no, I mean, um….”

Miou, being Miou, seemed to be struggling to find the right words as she frantically waved both hands in front of her face.

She must have brought up the topic on a whim, and was feeling embarrassed now that she’d realized what she had just asked.

‘Come to think of it, we’ve never talked about this kind of thing before, huh.’

He was surprised at the suddenness of it all, but this was actually a good opportunity.

Haruki pulled himself back together and opened his mouth to speak again.

“I do.”

His voice came out a lot clearer than he had thought it would.

He was certain that it had been loud enough for Miou to hear, then.

Ignoring his noisy heartbeat, Haruki quietly checked her reaction.

Miou lifted her face with awkward movements, her eyes shining as if trying to tell him something.

‘Ah, this isn’t good.’

If she said something to him first, he just knew he’d lose his nerve.

It was just a hunch he had, making him reflexively look down.

“I do have a crush.”

He said once more, to be clear.

He heard her gasp beside him, and then speak in a quiet voice.

“Ah…. I see.”

That was Miou’s only response.

He waited a bit, but the silence dragged on. All he could hear was his noisy heartbeat.

‘Why won’t she say anything….?’

Doubt, anticipation, anxiety.

All these different feelings swirled around, running amok as if to tear him apart from the inside.

Haruki suppressed the urge to give into his emotions and scream, and instead asked nonchalantly,

“What about you?”

This time, he heard Miou gasp even more clearly than the last.

He glanced at her without turning his head, only moving his eyes, but Miou had her face turned away, and he couldn’t see what kind of expression she was making.

He looked down, and saw their hands that were just a small distance apart.

‘....About ten centimeters, huh.’

The space between them was about the size of a fist. If he spread out his hand, he could just touch Miou’s fingertips.

He knew this, but he couldn’t even lift a single finger.

‘You’re telling me I can’t even move a mere ten centimeters….?!’

“I do.”

For a moment, he wasn’t sure what she had just said.

He blinked several times, and gradually, the circuits in his brain began to function again.

He had asked if she had a crush on anyone, and Miou had answered that she did.

That was all, plain and simple, and to Haruki, it was like some conclusive truth.

‘So she does like someone.’

He repeated this silently to himself as if to confirm it, and felt a pain run through him, like his heart was being crushed.

It became hard to breathe, and his vision blurred.

Meanwhile, Miou stood up, and picked up her bag that she’d left lying on the ground.

‘Wait…. Don’t go…. Don’t go….!’

He called after her desperately in his head, but his throat only emitted silent whistling noises.

Was this really his body?

He couldn’t speak, and he couldn’t reach out to grab her arm.

All he could do was sit on the steps, and watch as Miou left.

Her soft hair and skirt danced in the wind as she descended the stairs with light footsteps.

When she got to the fourth step, she finally turned around.

“Oh, I just remembered I had something to do, so I’ll be going home now.”

“….Okay, see you later, then.”

When Miou spoke to him, he replied half-unconsciously.

By the time he heard his own voice echo in his eardrums, an intense regret was closing in on him.

‘Damn…. I’m not just a coward, but an idiot, too.’

This had been his last chance.

He knew this, and yet he’d run away from it all, choosing to take the safe way out.

Miou gave a small nod, and didn’t say anything else.

It must have been an urgent errand, or perhaps because she didn’t want to be here, that made her all but run away.

The reality of this plunged deeply into his heart at a sharp angle.

“It isn’t me?!”

Once Miou was completely out of sight, he spread out his arms and legs and fell backwards.

The autumn wind cooled down his burning cheeks.

The blurry sunset he saw was so beautiful it was almost infuriating.

❀　❁　❀　❁　❀

“Huh? Miou-chan?!”

She heard a voice call her from behind, carried along by the chilly wind.

‘....It’s…. Akari-chan.’

She had been running this whole time, so she must have been spacing out due to a lack of oxygen.

Miou slowly blinked her eyes, feeling somehow detached from reality.

Blink, blink.

She opened and closed her eyes to try and regulate her rapid heartbeat.

Suddenly, she felt something hot forming at the corner of her eyes, and hurriedly rubbed them away with the back of her hand.

‘No, I can’t cry….’

Even as she told herself this, her vision began to blur over.

If she couldn’t turn around, she should at least give some sort of reply.

Or was it better if she kept going, pretending she hadn’t heard her?

As Miou tried to decide, she heard footsteps approaching her.

“Miou-chan, let’s go home toge–”

Miou was drawn in by her soft voice and clear eyes.

The moment they made eye contact, Akari gasped, and furrowed her delicate eyebrows.

‘I guess she saw me crying….’

Unable to hold them back any longer, Miou’s tears finally spilled forth.

“It isn’t…. m-me….”

As Miou stuttered in a tearful voice, Akari listened quietly.

Comforted by the warm hand wrapped kindly behind her back, Miou continued between sobs,

“He said that he has someone he likes already….”

“Mm-hm.”

“I was the only who thought….”

Thinking back on it now, Haruki hadn’t said anything definitive.

But for some reason, she felt like she had some idea.

If Haruki had someone he liked, maybe it was her.

Haruki was so outgoing, and could get along with anyone right off the bat.

But at the same time, there was a part of him that didn’t let anyone come near.

Because of the clear boundaries he set for himself, that made him sensitive to the boundaries that others wanted to set. That was how he was able to maintain good relationships with people without making anyone uncomfortable.

‘But Haruki-kun doesn’t talk with other girls much.’

Miou realized this after she’d started going home together with Haruki, but he only ever talked about other guys. It was rare that he would even mention a girl’s name.

If Haruki ever talked to any girls, it was usually just his childhood friends, Natsuki or Miou.

Speaking of Natsuki, Haruki had been the one to encourage her to confess to Yuu.

If Haruki was interested in Natsuki romantically, he probably wouldn’t have done that.

Even if he were to support her feelings for Yuu, judging by his personality, he would make sure to confess his own feelings for her first. And only after hearing an answer from her would he decide what to do with his feelings and how to proceed from there.

In this way, Miou made these arbitrary speculations and hopeful observations to reassure herself.

But when she lined up at the realities that she had put together to suit her own needs, she realized there was no point.

She had been denying it all this time, but now, she finally felt able to acknowledge it.

For these past two years, Miou had been by Haruki’s side, but that was all.

She was happy to be beside him, and hadn’t put any effort in drawing his attention.

“But I don’t want to give up.”

Before she even realized, Miou said this in a clear voice.

Not “I can’t give up,” but “I don’t want to give up.”

Embarrassed by her own misunderstanding, Miou had run away from Haruki.

She felt like she couldn’t bear to face him again.

But even so, strong and definite feelings for him still remained at the bottom of her heart.

“....Yeah, I know.”

Akari’s words made her chest feel warmer than any other form of comfort would have.

She was still so ashamed, but her heart was slowly starting to feel less heavy.

“Come to think of it, I’ve got cake at home!”

“Huh?”

Miou lifted her face, surprised by the sudden change in topic.

Akari looked down at her, her eyes filled with a warm light. They were eyes that seemed to accept and acknowledge her as a whole, and she could feel her tears fading away.

“It’s a new menu item from the Hoshiya across the station! Do you want to try some?”

“Y-yeah~!”

If she wanted to respond to Akari’s sentiment, and be able to move forward, she couldn’t keep on crying.

Miou balled both of her hands into fists and firmly declared,

“I can allow myself to eat sweets just for today, can’t I?”

She would stuff herself with sweets with her dear friend.

Just for tonight, she wouldn’t hold back on seconds at dinner, either.

She would take a nice, long bath, and watch her favorite movie with a mug of hot chocolate.

She’d even stay up later than usual tonight, and once it was morning, she’d smile again.

Telling this to herself, she moved forward, one step at a time.

Miou then realized that Akari wasn’t walking beside her, and turned back around.

“Akari-chaaan?”

When she called, Akari hurriedly rubbed at her eyes.

Had something gotten in her eye? Or maybe—

“C’mon, let’s hurry! The cakes aren’t going to wait, you know?”

Miou decided not to ask about it, and called to her while waving her hand in the air.

Akari gave a small sigh, before soon flashing a brilliant smile.

“….Ahaha! Looks like we’ll have to race to my house, then.”

She looked up at the sky, and saw the moon glowing faintly in place of the sun.

Smiling at the thought of a clear, sunny day tomorrow, Miou raced down the hill.

[mamajeanetc]

Hoi An, Vietnam

We left home on a Saturday morning and took a short flight to Kuala Lumpur.  We had a two hour layover there before a 2.5  hour flight to DaNang.  We were flying Air Asia -- a cheap regional airline that offers only basic service.  So, I figured our layover would allow for a decent lunch.  We didn’t realize that Air Asia has their own terminal in the KL airport and the service in the terminal is about as a basic as the service on the flights.  There were only a handfull of places to eat -- about 1/2 of them were closed and some only took cash (and we didn’t have any Malaysian ringgits on us) which left us one option.  And they were sold out of our first 2 options on the menu!!  It was not a great start.  But there was one saving grace in the KL airport: 

Nothing like a good chocolate chip cookie to make things better!!  Credit cards accepted! 

We landed in DaNang and I had arranged for the hotel shuttle service to pick us up and drive us to our hotel in Hoi An, about 1/2 hour down the coast.  Our driver didn’t say a word, but he got us to our destination!

Hoi An is rather uniquely situated with the sea and multiple rivers running through the area.  Our hotel was in that little triangle between the crossroads and the big curve in the river just to the right and below “East Sea”, overlooking the river and about 50 yards down the road to the beach.

We arrived at the River Beach Resort about 4:00 and were given their traditional welcome drink as we checked in -- a nice refreshing glass of Tang!  This was the view from the lobby: 

We were then shown to our room -- very clean and spacious.  We were on the 3rd floor with a balcony overlooking the river.

This was definitely feeling like a place we could tolerate for a few days (at about $45 US/night, great breakfast included)! 

Hoi An means “peaceful meeting place” -- a name that reflects the influence of various cultures in the area.  Originally, it was the principal port of the Cham Kingdom, which controlled the spice trade with Indonesia between the 7th and 10th centuries.  The rivers and canals were used to transport goods between the highlands and inland countries of Laos and Thailand, and the lowlands.  The Cham people most likely originated from Java and were Hindu.  But during the 10th century some of the people converted to Islam due to the influence of Arab traders. 

Another major cultural influence came from Chinese traders and others trying to escape the Ming Dynasty armies.  They settled in Hoi An for some years before moving south and creating Saigon as their major port.  

During the 16th and 17th centuries Hoi An became a major trading port as Portuguese, Dutch, Indian and Japanese traders settled here.

In the late 18th century a new emperor, to thank the French for helping him win a rebellion, gave them exclusive trading rights in nearby DaNang.  DaNang became the new center of trade and Hoi An did not change much for the next 200 years. 

In 1999 the Old Town of Hoi An was named a UNESCO World Heritage Site because it was a well-preserved example of a SE Asia trading port between the 15th and 19th centuries with buildings that display a unique mix of influences.  Since then, due to the increase in tourism, most of the houses have been sold and turned into shops, restaurants and art galleries.  But the architecture has been largely perserved.

After settling into our room we decided to walk to the Old Town for dinner.  Our hotel was about 4 kms. from Old Town.  At 6:00 on Saturday there was quite a bit of traffic between the beach and town -- some cars and an occasional tour bus, but hundreds of motorbikes and bicycles being ridden by both tourists and locals.

Not far from our hotel we had to cross a bridge which isn’t wide enough for 2 cars to pass.  Cars on one end are forced to stop and wait until there is a break in the traffic; then the direction of traffic changes. 

Crossing the river we could see a couple of fishermen on the river as the sun was going down. 

We had expected that being farther north we would have longer daylight hours, but by 6:30 it was almost dark.

We had dinner at an outdoor restaurant on the river.  Hoi An is also known as “the lantern town” because there lanterns of various shapes, colors and sizes everywhere.  While we waited for our food I tried to get a photo of some the various lanterns and the moon in the background.

For dinner we ordered a famous local dish, cao lau, which consists of rice noodles topped with slices of roast pork, dough fritters, fresh herbs and vegetables.  The secret to making authentic cao lau is using water from a special well in the city.  We also had some stir-fried vegies.

While we were eating dinner a large family came into the restaurant.  We learned they were celebrating a birthday when all the lights in the restaurant went out and the wait staff came out carrying a cake with candles and singing “Happy Birthday” (in English).

Deciding we’d prefer to explore Old Town in the daylight, we got a taxi back to the hotel after dinner.  Since it was still early, Tim suggested we sit at the outdoor bar and play Canasta.  I went up to our room to get our cards while he ordered drinks.  I returned just as the waiter set our drinks down.  Tim explained that they didn’t have any wine so he had ordered me a Seabreeze, which is cranberry juice and vodka.  I took one sip and I’m sure it would have knocked my socks off if I had been wearing any. I took my glass over to the bar and asked the bartender if he could add some more cranberry juice.  He picked up a bottle of alcohol from the shelf and started to take the top off.  Putting my hand over the glass I explained that I did not want any more alcohol; I’d like some more cranberry juice.  He didn’t have any cranberry juice . . . or any other juice . . . or soda . . . or anything without alcohol except tonic water.  So, we added some tonic water and I returned to our table.  It was still horrible.  So, we proceeded to play cards while a group of 4 or 5 young couples entertained us with quite possibly the worst karaoke EVER!!  The bartender noticed I wasn’t drinking so he brought over another glass, apologetically saying he had tried again to make me a Seabreeze and assuring us we would not be charged for a second drink.  It was very nice of him to try, but it was still undrinkable!  When we got the bill, it suddenly became clear . . . instead of cranberry he had mixed vodka with “Campari” -- a liqueur made by infusing herbs and fruit in alcohol and water.  It’s red (so it looked like cranberry juice) and it’s about 25% alcohol (which is pretty strong, especially for someone who very rarely drinks hard liquor)!  I’ll probably never drink another Seabreeze without fondly remembering our first night in Vietnam!!

Sunday morning came early . . . really early.  Light started to peek through the shutters on our balcony door around 4:00 a.m. and by 5:00 a.m. it was full daylight.  Not long afterwards we heard kids playing, and when we went down to breakfast at 6:20 I counted 16 kids in the hotel pool!!  Looking at a map, Vietnam is east of Singapore -- you would expect it to be one time zone ahead of Singapore.  But in fact, it is one time zone behind Singapore.  So, as I expected, daylight did last about 2 hours longer there than it does in Singapore, it’s just shifted earlier which seemed quite strange.  We have no factual explanation, but our theory is that the government made the decision about the time zone because it is so hot -- people get out and work in the fields, construction, etc. very early before it becomes unbearable.

Tim wanted to go scuba diving so I had booked 2 spots on Sunday with Blue Coral Dive Shop.  I’m not as comfortable in the water and it takes me a couple of days to get comfortable diving.  Since we were only going to dive one day I had opted to not get stressed about it and just enjoy the day on the boat and beach. The dive shop picked us up in a van and we drove about 15 minutes to a pier where we boarded a good-sized boat with about 30 other people.

When we boarded the boat there was an orange life vest on every seat and the boat crew made sure everyone put theirs on before we pulled away from the dock.  Once we were outside the harbor area they collected the life vests and stowed them away.  We saw this happening on other boats going out as well.  There must be a law requiring life vests in the harbor, but once you’re out in open water it’s OK to let the tourists drown!

We saw several other boats of varying sizes leaving the harbor and everyone was headed to the Cham Islands -- a small group of islands about an hour out on a boat where the best diving and snorkeling in the area can be found.   We stopped at 2 different locations for the divers and snorkelers to do their thing. 

I had considered snorkeling but when I saw how many people there were (not only our boat, but 3 or 4 other boats anchored nearby) I was happy with my decision to stay on the boat with my book.  

My decision was reaffirmed when the snorkelers started getting back in the boat after a short time, many of them complaining of itching and stinging.  Apparently there were tiny jellyfish type creatures in the water.  The divers were wearing wetsuits and weren’t bothered, but most of the snorkelers couldn’t tolerate being in the water very long.

Both the tourists and staff on the boat were an eclectic mix of nationalities -- US, Chile, Ireland, Britain, Australia, Germany, Norway, Canada, Korea, Japan, China, Singapore and Vietnam.  This made for some interesting conversation and some good people-watching.  I found this Korean mother and daughter who spent much of their time touching up their make-up (to get in the water) and taking selfies particulary entertaining. 

After the 2 dive stops we went to the largest island to enjoy a seafood lunch on the beach. 

We then had a couple of hours to hang out on the beach and swim before our boat headed back to Hoi An.  I went for a swim, but encountered the same pesky little jelly-fish guys (they looked like little air bubbles in the water) so didn’t last too long.  Apparently Tim is immune to such things as he spent most of the time swimming back and forth along the shoreline and had no problems.  It appeared that the boat operators in Hoi An must have an agreement and schedule as this island had a steady stream of tourist boats coming and going during the 3 hours we were there, but there were never too many people to be seated at the one eating establishment at once.

As our boat headed back to Hoi An we could see dark clouds gathering in the distance.  We made it back to our hotel about 3 minutes before the wind started howling and the rain pouring.  We enjoyed the storm from our balcony and later walked to a nearby restaurant on the beach for a quiet dinner.  We had a good chuckle when looking at the menu and enjoyed the food.  Apparently if it comes with noodles it’s “nooded”!

On Monday we did a half-day bike tour with our buddies at Grasshopper Adventures.  After meeting our guide, Ky, and fellow bikers (a Dutch family of 5) at the bike shop in town, we made it through a couple of precarious intersections, crossed a bridge and soon found ourselves pedaling on a quiet path along the river. 

After riding a few kilometers we stopped at a house in a small village where the couple makes rice cakes and rice papers for the locals daily breakfast. 

The man showed us how he grinds the rice (which has soaked in water for about 2 hours to soften) into a paste. 

He made it look easy, but I gave it a try and it wasn’t.  He runs this grinder for about an hour each day.  My arms were tired and I’d worked up a sweat after about 2 minutes!

While he grinds the rice each morning, his wife gets the fire going in the “kitchen”.

They burn the rice husks for fuel and afterwards use the ash as fertilizer.

The wife showed us how to spread a thin layer of the rice flour paste on a hot skillet.

After putting the lid over it and letting it cook for a minute, you have to gently slide the “magic wand” under the middle of the rice paper . . .

and lift it off the griddle!

Ky showed us how to put one of these “pancakes’ between 2 layers of another type of rice paper which has been dried and grilled so it’s crunchy -- you smash it all into pieces and then dip it in a special sauce and you have a very typical local breakfast. 

After our second breakfast, we got back on our bikes and rode a few kilometers through fields and villages to our next stop -- a family temple.   The owners of this house have 10 kids and 28 grandkids.  Rather than going to a temple to practice their religious traditions, which are a mix of Tao and Hindu, they built a temple on the side of their house. 

Those are tombstones in the foreground -- a number of family members are buried there.   This is inside the temple:

There was a smaller shrine off to the side.  My understanding was that it was built to honor a stillborn child with the hope that his next life would be better.

We continued riding through the countryside 

Ky stopped us as we approached another river and told us to ride in the middle of the bridge (because it’s not very wide) unless there’s a bike or motorcycle coming toward us -- then we should move to the right, but not too far or we’d end up swimming!   Gotta love those guardrails!!

Our next stop was at a place where they build boats.  We were surprised at how big the boats are.  It takes about 6 months to build a boat. 

It was interesting to see how they bend the wood and piece it together to make a hull.  And naturally we were very impressed with all the sturdy scaffolding and ladders, safety harnesses, hard hats, steel-toed shoes, etc. -- OSHA would have a field day!!

As we left the boatyard Ky told us that our next stop would be in a village where they specialize in making sleeping mats.  On the outskirts of the village we saw a woman cutting the grass that is used to make the sleeping mats. 

Nearby we saw several bundles of grass by the roadside. 

The bundles are taken to the village where each one is split in two lengthwise.  Then they are laid out to dry for 4 days.  We saw them in various stages of drying along the side of the road. 

Once dry, some of the grass will be dyed various colors, others left natural, and then woven into a sleeping mat.  The locals use these mats on the floor or a wooden frame, but do not use mattresses. 

We stopped at a home and met this 91-year-old woman who weaves 2 mats/day.  She has been doing this since she was 13 years old and now her 13 year-old granddaughter is helping her and learning the family trade.

Cycling on to another village, we prepared for our final stop in the countryside -- which would include rice wine tasting right where it is made!  Once again the home proprieter walked us through the process.  He uses 2 kinds of rice -- the darker one is from Laos and produces a higher grade of wine; the white rice is Vietnamese.  Both rices are steamed and then spread out to dry. 

The rice is then put in buckets with water where it ferments for several days. 

Finally, he runs it through his distillery. 

He produces variations by adding varous herbs, fruit and lizards.  Yes, you read that right -- take a close look at the bottle on the left.  They’re a bit difficult to see, but there are 2 rather large lizards in the bottle.

We tasted a couple different wines, but passed on that bottle! 

The son of the winemaker is a doctor of traditional Chinese medicine.  His medicinal supplies took up one wall in the front room of the house. 

After our wine-tasting we rode our bikes back to the river where we boarded a “ferry” to take us across the river and back to Hoi An.  We passed another ferry that looked similar to ours: 

Our boat operator had a high tech accelerator system which he operated by pulling a string.  Once he reached crusing speed he just held the string in place with his foot, but as we neared the dock and conditions required a bit more finesse he took off his shoes and used his toes! 

We docked near the Japanese Covered Bridge.  A famous landmark in Hoi An, it was built in the early 1600s by the Japanese community and includes a pagoda (temple) on one side. 

We then rode a couple of blocks to the Grasshopper office and said good-bye to our guide and fellow riders.  We decided to walk around town a bit and gradually made our way to the other end of the Old Town, where the hotel has a shuttle pick-up/drop-off point 4 times/day. 

There are 2 small islands just across the river from Old Town.  We walked across the bridge to one of them.  This is the view looking back across at the Old Town riverfront. 

The streets in the Old Town area are pedestrian only, which is nice.  But they are crowded with tourists.  There are tailors making custom-clothing everywhere you turn -- I read somewhere that there are 600 shops selling clothing and shoes in Hoi An.  

We returned to our room mid-afternoon and enjoyed the air-conditioning!  After a shower and a nap Tim wanted to get a haircut so we went in search of a barber.  We walked a couple of miles on the beach and frankly, I wasn’t all that surprised that we didn’t find one.  As we returned to the hotel I pointed out that every other shop on the street was a “spa” -- there were signs all over the place offering manicures and massages. 

 I said, “Surely one of these places can cut your hair.”  There was a young lady in front of the shop directly across the street from the hotel.  I asked if they could cut Tim’s hair.  She replied, “Of course!  And you ma’am should get a foot massage while he is getting his haircut.”   That sounded like a good idea so we headed into the shop.  Then she informed us that it would take a few minutes for her haircut gal to get there so “Sir, you could get a foot massage too, and THEN get a haircut!”  We laughed and agreed!   We started with soaking our feet in hot water with some kind of herbs, followed by a half hour foot and leg massage.  As they finished our massages another gal walked in carrying a folding chair and some electric clippers, ready to cut Tim’s hair.

When she finished she told me to go to the restaurant next door to pay.  We owed 590,000 VND (Vietnamese Dong) for all our services, which is about $25 USD!   Our friendly saleslady was there as the restaurant is also owned by her family.  They didn’t have the correct change in the restaurant so she went to the next shop (where they arrange local tours) and got change from another family member who owns that shop!  

We had enjoyed our “nooded with vege” (and other dishes) so much the night before, that we decided to return to the same restaurant for dinner.  We started with their special “Hoi An Spring Rolls” -- shrimp, pork and vegetables in a unique, kind of lacy, rice paper. 

We enjoyed another good meal as the sun set and then walked along the beach in the moonlight.

We had no plans for Tuesday -- just relaxing.  We slept in, had a late breakfast, skyped with Kelsey and then headed to the beach around 10:00.  It was already so hot that we could not walk on the dry sand barefoot!  Tim had a good workout -- swimming several hundred yards down the shore, then running back and repeating the process several times. 

I alternated between cooling off and doing water aerobics until those little jelly-fish beasties got to me, and reading my book until the heat got to me!  There are several restaurants with beach chairs and umbrellas you can rent for the day.  The hotel we were staying at has a deal with one of the restaurants so we could use their “private” beach for free.

By noon we decided it was time to visit our air-conditioned room!  Thinking it was a good day for a full-body massage I stopped by the shop across the street.  Our saleslady greeted me with a hug and “My friend, how are you today?”  When I told her we’d like to both come for massages at 3:00 she said, “OK.  I will turn the air conditioning on for you!”  

They were ready for us in a cool room when we returned.  Unfortunately, about halfway through our massages the power went out.  It got a bit toasty, but we enjoyed our massages.  Then returned to the hotel, put on our bathing suits and cooled off in the swimming pool. 

We went back into town for dinner that night.  There was one more local specialty I had read about that we hadn’t tried yet -- “White Rose” is a type of shrimp dumpling made from translucent white dough that is bunched up to look like a rose.

Wednesday morning it was time to head home.  After an early morning swim and run on the beach and a leisurely breakfast, we headed to the airport around 10:30.  Our flight from DaNang to KL was delayed about 20 minutes, but we had about 2 1/2 hours in KL so we weren’t worried.   This is the view out the window shortly after takeoff.  You can see the city of DaNang with the sea on one side and mountains on the other -- very lush and green. 

When we landed in KL we learned that our flight to Singapore was also delayed.  Knowing there was not much beyond security, we found a sandwich shop outside security where we had some better dinner choices and a comfortable space to hang out for a couple of hours.  Tim needed to do a little work so I wandered around a bit and decided that some things are worth 2 times through security, namely chocolate chip cookies!!

Wednesday was National Day in Singapore (and the reason we had a holiday and made it a long weekend).  When I booked our flights I thought we might be able to see the fireworks from the plane as we came in.  With our delays we were too late to catch the show, but we did get a nice view of the Marina Bay area as we returned to Singapore, grateful for another fun adventure!