I am now addicted.
Yuppur! It’s my daily LuckedIN flavored coffee. It’s just so, so good. OMG!
It’s a different experience than drinking an American coffee in a diner. It’s well… really different. It’s really really different.
It started with one or two.
This cute gal, wearing a party dress, hands me a cup. She say’s “come on, one little sip won’t kill you…”
Reminds me of that Lounge Lizard that handed me a cigarette outside of the bowling alley back in the 1970’s. He said “Come on. Don’t be a square. Be groovy. One little drag won’t kill you.”
Addictions.
Well. Now I am chained to the disposable up filled with the rich and luscious delicious smelling ambrosia.
Now…
They have this little kid-size (coffee) cup that they fill with cake and ice cream. And right now I am giving it to my daughter, and Lordy! She’s taking to it. She’s eating it in gulping spoonfuls. Like a possessed animal.
Looks like me when I drink my coffee.
My my. Yummy…
A new generation.
I gotta tell you.
Today…
The Hench-Animal Talent Show (8A550)
Ah, dear reader. Prepare yourself for a spectacle, a cavalcade of questionable skill and towering ego. This is not a tale of quiet wisdom, but of the glorious, unhinged noise that erupts when rival philosophies of mischief decide to settle their differences not with cunning, but with cabaret. This is the story of a contest where the only thing truly judged was the farm’s collective patience.
I. The Gauntlet of Vanity, Thrown
The air over the farm had grown thick with a specific tension—not the tension of impending storm or existential chicken, but the prickly, performative tension of two feline moguls with too much time on their paws.
Catnip, from his perch on the rain barrel, and Big Cat, from his imported silk cushion under the pergola, had locked eyes for a week. Their silent war of territorial disdain had reached a stalemate. A new battlefield was needed.
It was Big Cat who issued the decree, via a monogrammed note delivered by a very nervous field mouse.
“To the So-Called ‘Syndicate,’
Your chaotic ‘charm’ is but noise masking a lack of refinement. True power is cultivated, not stumbled upon. We propose a contest of cultivated talent. A showcase. Let our respective… associates demonstrate their merits. We shall see whose philosophy breeds true excellence.
—His Serene Felinity, Big Cat.”
Catnip read the note, scoffed, and immediately nailed a rebuttal to the barn door, written in berry juice on a piece of bark.
“To the ‘Empire of Stiffness,’
You’re on. Your ‘cultivated’ talents probably include synchronized napping and filing taxes. We’ll show you real talent: the talent of surprise! A Talent Show. This Saturday. Be there or be square (which you already are).
—The Cat Who Actually Does Stuff, Catnip.”
The farm, ever a sucker for an event, was immediately abuzz. The problem? They needed judges. Neutral, respectable, and possessing at least one paw in the realm of sanity.
They chose me. And, in a catastrophic error of judgment, they also chose Ditto, on the theory that his “unclouded youthful perspective” would be valuable. It was like appointing a tornado to judge architecture.
II. The Judges’ Table: A Bastion of Questionable Impartiality
We were installed at a wobbly table in the center of the barnyard, bedecked with a moth-eaten velvet cloth. Before us sat two ornate bowls: one filled with polished pebbles (Big Cat’s scoring tokens), the other with mismatched buttons (Catnip’s). Ditto, wearing a judge’s robe fashioned from a napkin, was vibrating with excitement.
“What’s the criteria?” I asked the assembled moguls.
“Artistry. Precision. The ineffable quality of class,” purred Big Cat, his hench-animals lined up behind him like a well-drilled, if sullen, corps de ballet.
“Impact! Energy! The ‘Did-You-See-That?!’ Factor!” yowled Catnip, his crew shuffling and looking vaguely conspiratorial behind him.
“I’m looking for sparkles,” Ditto announced solemnly.
The rules were set. Each side would present three talents. We would score from 1-10 using the provided tokens/buttons. Ditto would also award bonus “Sparkle Points” at his discretion.
III. The Performances: A Descent into Beautiful Madness
Round 1: Precision vs. Pandemonium
-
The Empire Presents: Putter, the Mole, in ‘Excavation Étude No. 3.’”
Putter, a mole of few words and impeccable angles, presented a dirt canvas. With silent, geometric precision, he tunneled. A perfect spiral appeared. Then a series of connecting hexagons. Then a startlingly accurate silhouette of Big Cat’s profile. It was silent, flawless, and profoundly boring. The earth itself seemed impressed with its own reorganization.-
Big Cat’s Score: A full bowl of ten pebbles, poured with a smug flourish.
-
My Score: 7 pebbles. Technically masterful, but emotionally desolate.
-
Ditto’s Score: 2 buttons. “No sparkles. Also, where’s the mole? It’s just a hole show.”
-
-
The Syndicate Presents: Squeakers, the Mouse, in ‘The Symphony of Unseen Forces.’”
Squeakers did not perform on the stage, but to it. He scurried to the base of the judging table, the hay bale seating, and the support beam of the coop. With a series of precise, frantic gnaws, he compromised the structural integrity of everything. As he finished, a gentle breeze wafted through. The table leg buckled, the hay bale slumped, and the coop door swung open with a dramatic creeeak. Doris tumbled out mid-squawk. It was chaos, but chaos with a distinct artistic vision.-
Catnip’s Score: A shower of buttons. “THE VISION! HE SEES THE WEAKNESS IN ALL THINGS!”
-
My Score: 4 buttons (for audacity, deducted 6 for likely repair costs).
-
Ditto’s Score: 5 Sparkle Points. “Everything moved! It was like dancing furniture!”
-
Round 2: Theatrics vs. Thermodynamics
-
The Empire Presents: Ratticus, the Rat, in ‘A Monologue from the Depths.’”
Ratticus, a rodent with the soul of a Victorian tragedian, took center stage. He delivered a fifteen-minute soliloquy on the existential weight of cheese rind, the tyranny of the owl-shaped weathervane, and the profound loneliness of the drainpipe. It was delivered with gravitas, paw clutched to chest. Several of the hens wept delicately.-
Big Cat’s Score: 9 pebbles. “A tour de force of the interior life.”
-
My Score: 5 pebbles. Moving, but my tail went numb.
-
Ditto’s Score: 0 Sparkles. He was asleep.
-
-
The Syndicate Presents: Unnamed Hench-Goose, in ‘The Aria of Unmitigated Rage.’”
Catnip’s second talent was simply a goose he’d apparently annoyed five minutes prior. He pointed at it. The goose, spotting Catnip, unleashed a performance of pure, honking fury that shook the petals from the daisies. It was not trained. It was not refined. It was 100% authentic, visceral, and terrifying. It chased Catnip three times around the pond before being distracted by its own reflection.-
Catnip’s Score: 10 buttons. “RAW EMOTION! UNFILTERED ID!”
-
My Score: 1 button (for survival instinct).
-
Ditto’s Score: 10 Sparkle Points. “So loud! So shiny with anger!”
-
Round 3: The Grand Finales
-
The Empire Presents: Goliath, the Tortoise, in ‘The Imperceptible Dance.’”
Goliath was placed on a mirror. For ten minutes, he extended his neck, slowly, slowly, until his head was poised at a majestic angle. He held it. The sun glinted off his shell. A single leaf drifted down and landed on his back. He did not move. It was a masterpiece of minimalism, a meditation on stillness itself. The farm held its breath.-
Big Cat’s Score: 10 pebbles. “Transcendent.”
-
My Score: 8 pebbles. I felt my heartbeat slow. It was… peaceful.
-
Ditto’s Score: “Is it broken?” (Awarded 1 Sparkle Point for the shiny shell.)
-
-
The Syndicate Presents: The Collective, in ‘Project: Ditto.’”
Catnip saved his most audacious play for last. His hench-animals did not perform a talent. They acquired one. As Goliath held his pose, three mice, a shrew, and a determined butterfly swarmed Ditto at the judges’ table. In a flurry of coordination, they lifted him—napkin robe and all—and carried him, yowling with delight, to the center stage. They then proceeded to perform Ditto’s own daily routine: a chaotic ballet of pouncing at dust, chasing his own tail, and getting briefly stuck in a feed sack. It was Ditto, performed by a multi-species ensemble. It was meta. It was ridiculous.-
Catnip’s Score: A torrent of buttons, plus his own collar. “SELF-REFERENTIAL GENIUS!”
-
My Score: 6 buttons. The sheer logistical planning was undeniable.
-
Ditto’s Score: Infinite Sparkle Points. “IT’S ME! I’M THE TALENT!”
-
IV. The Judgement: A Triumph of the Unique
The scoring was a mess. By pebbles, the Empire won on technical merit. By buttons, the Syndicate won on chaotic energy. By Sparkle Points, the universe had won.
I stood, clearing my throat into the stunned silence.
“The judgement is in,” I announced. “The Empire demonstrates the talent of perfection. The Syndicate demonstrates the talent of surprise. But Ditto’ score reveals the true winner: the talent of being uniquely, unmistakably oneself.”
I pointed to Goliath, immobile on his mirror. “Is his profound stillness less a talent than Squeakers’ orchestrated collapse? Is Ratticus’s poetic gloom less valid than the Goose’s authentic rage? Is Putter’s geometric earth not art, simply because its artist is unseen?”
“You sought to prove whose philosophy was superior. You have only proven that talent, like grass, grows in many forms. Some trimmed and orderly. Some wild and full of bees. The farm needs both to be whole.”
V. Epilogue: The Unlikely Encore
The result was declared a draw. A tense, but respectful, draw.
In a stunning post-show development, the hench-animals, freed from the pressure of competition, began to mingle. Putter the Mole was seen giving Squeakers the Mouse tips on “load-bearing aesthetics.” Ratticus was composing a sonnet about the Goose’s “passionate honesty.”
And Goliath the Tortoise? He remained on his mirror for two days, becoming a popular tourist attraction. Ditto would sit with him for hours, whispering, “Do the dance again!”
As for Big Cat and Catnip, they retired to opposite sides of the barnyard, each claiming a moral victory. But a subtle shift had occurred. The next week, Big Cat was seen using a slightly irregular, button-adorned dreamcatcher in his snoozarium. And Catnip had arranged his stolen spoils in a suspiciously neat spiral.
The Talent Show did not crown a winner. It built a bridge, made of mismatched buttons, polished pebbles, and pure, glittering nonsense.
Moral of the Story: Do not measure the mole’s tunnel against the mouse’s gnaw, or the tortoise’s stillness against the kitten’s spin. Comparison is the thief of joy, and the only contest that matters is the one where everyone gets to be their own, peculiar, spectacular self.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, Ditto is trying to judge the “All-Farm Competitive Yawning Championship.” The scoring is entirely based on tongue curl. I must go and enforce some very, very loose guidelines.
Jingle on.
46 Years Into Feminism… A Lawyer’s BRUTAL Confession
Chicken Pizza
This Chicken Pizza comes together in about 30 minutes with a few smart grocery store shortcuts, but it still tastes like something you’d order from a gourmet pizzeria. Includes both oven and grilled chicken pizza directions!
“Really delicious and a nice change of pace from pizza delivery. I did use the rotisserie chicken breast from the market, Rao’s pizza sauce, and purchased a premade crust. The roasted garlic cloves, fresh basil, and everything bagel seasoning give it delicious flavor. This is the third time I’ve made it. We love it!”
—Jennifer
“Had some friends over and they all thought this was delicious. I took the shortcut with the chicken and bought one from the shop. I will definitely make this one again.”
—Robert
This Simple Chicken Pizza Recipe Has Layers Of Flavor!
If you love pizza night but don’t love making it an all-day project, this classic chicken pizza recipe is about to become your new obsession.
A recipe with this much flavor is usually one that involves hours and hours of prep. But just like our Grandma Pizza, this easy recipe uses shortcuts from the grocery store to achieve a gourmet pizzeria-quality flavor in just about half an hour.
With unique, chef-inspired ingredients like roasted garlic, fresh mozzarella cheese and everything bagel seasoning, this will be the best chicken pizza recipe you’ve ever made at home.
Whether you’re baking it in the oven or making grilled chicken pizza on a summer evening (the recipe card includes instructions for both methods), this is one of those quick chicken pizza ideas that feels really special without requiring a culinary degree (or a pizza oven the size of a small car).
Why You Will Love This Pizza With Chicken
- Shortcut ideas for just about every ingredient. Sure, you COULD make your own pizza dough, roast your own garlic, and cook your own chicken, but you don’t HAVE to, and we’ll show you how.
- Done in about 30 minutes. Using recommended shortcuts, this pizza should be ready in just over a half hour.
- Great for meal prep. Many of the elements can be made in advance, like cooking the chicken and roasting the garlic. So it’s super easy to put together after work.
Chicken For Pizza: The #1 Thing You Need To Know Before You Start
You MUST precook chicken before you put chicken on pizza. The pizza won’t cook long enough for raw chicken to cook all the way through on top of the pizza. You have options for this!
- ROTISSERIE CHICKEN: This is the easiest option, and what we normally use. You can’t beat the convenience of this for chicken for pizza.
- ROAST OR GRILL CHICKEN BREASTS: If we want to cook chicken at home for this pizza with chicken, we follow a classic recipe for grilled or baked chicken breasts, allow it to cool, and then pull or chop it for a roasted chicken pizza.
- LEFTOVERS/MEAL PREP: If we’ve done a really good job of meal planning, we’ll cook an extra chicken breast as we’re prepping another chicken meal, and use the extra breast to put chicken on pizza.
Chicken Pizza Ingredients
A full recipe card, including exact ingredient amounts, appears at the bottom of this post.
- pizza dough – you can make our Homemade Pizza Dough, or buy a refrigerated version. You will need 1 pound of dough for this pizza with chicken.
- pizza sauce – There’s some really good pre-made pizza sauces at the grocery store these days. We tested a lot of them, and we like San Marzano and Rao’s brands the best.
- roasted garlic – There’s easy instructions in the recipe card below for roasting garlic. It’s simple and cheap.
- chicken – you will need 1-1/2 cups chopped or pulled cooked chicken for this grilled chicken pizza recipe. More on this above!
- mozzarella – with a fresh, milky flavor and super creamy texture, fresh mozzarella cheese is exceptional here.
- basil – for some leafy freshness. Cilantro also works if you want to change up the flavor a bit!
- seasoning – You haven’t lived until you’ve eaten a pizza sprinkled with Everything Seasoning. We make our own, but it can be purchased at most stores these days.
How To Make Garlic Chicken Pizza In The Oven
- ROAST GARLIC. If you’re roasting your own garlic, trim the tops off of 3 whole heads of garlic, wrap them in foil and place on a baking pan. Roast until the garlic is dark golden brown and very soft. Remove from oven and let stand for 10 minutes or until cool enough to touch. Squeeze garlic cloves from their skin.
- PARBAKE. Toss and stretch the pizza dough into a large circle. Spray pizza pan with cooking spray and place dough on pan. Transfer to oven and bake 10 minutes.
- SPREAD. Remove the pizza crust from the oven and spread it with pizza sauce. Top it with the chicken, roasted garlic cloves, cheese and everything bagel seasoning.
- FINISH. Return the chicken and cheese pizza to the oven and bake until the cheese is melted and the dough is cooked through. Sprinkle the basil over the top of the pizza and return to the oven for 2 more minutes. Cut and serve right away.
How To Make Grilled Chicken Pizza
Want to grill your pizza for a nice summer meal? You can! Grilled pizzas require both direct and indirect heat.
- PREP. Preheat your grill for two-zone grilling, which means half of the grill should be set to medium-high (this is your direct heat side), and the other half should be off (this is your indirect heat side).
- PARCOOK. Shape your dough and brush it with oil, then throw it onto the grill over direct heat. Cook for a few minutes on each side until it’s firm and grill-marked.
- TOPPINGS. Top the dough with sauce and all the toppings except the basil, then return it to the indirect heat side of the grill to cook for 8 to 10 minutes longer or until it’s fully cooked.
- FINISH. Sprinkle with greens, slice and eat!
The Cheater’s Way To Make A Grilled Chicken Breast Pizza
If you want a grilled pizza, but you’re not confident about your dough grilling skills, take an easy shortcut and use naan bread, like we did for our Smoked Salmon Pizza! This is also the FASTEST way to make this grilled chicken pizza recipe.
Home Chef Tips
- Don’t have time to roast your own garlic? You may be able to take a shortcut and buy roasted garlic cloves from the olive bar at an upscale grocery store.
- If using store-bought or otherwise refrigerated dough, let it come to room temperature for 20 to 30 minutes before stretching to make it easier to work with.
- If baking your chicken breast pizza in the oven, we highly recommend a pizza stone. Pizza stones are a wonderful tool to have if you’re a pizza lover because they help to achieve a crispy crust on this classic chicken pizza without shelling out a few thousand dollars for an actual pizza oven. If using a pizza stone, your pizza may cook a few minutes faster than if you were using a regular pan.
Ingredient Substitutions & Additions
- PIZZA SAUCE: If you’d prefer a homemade sauce, our culinary school Tomato Sauce would be great for this pizza. For a white pizza, try Alfredo sauce. Or, make it a barbecue chicken pizza by using BBQ sauce.
- MOZZARELLA: Provolone, Gouda cheese and Monterey Jack cheeses are all good substitutes for mozzarella on this grilled chicken pizza.
- BASIL: Spinach, arugula or kale would all be great chicken pizza ideas.
- ADD MORE: Feel free to add any of your favorite pizza toppings, including roasted red peppers, pepperoni, bacon, red onions, black olives, roasted broccoli, or anything else you can dream up.
How To Serve Chicken Pizza
Our favorite side dish for this grilled chicken pizza recipe is a nice fresh salad, like mixed greens with Feta Cheese Dressing or Citrus Salad Dressing.
The only other thing you need is a cocktail! Either a Basil Cocktail or a Kentucky Mule would be a perfect pairing.
Storage And Reheating
- Refrigerate: If you have leftovers, transfer them to an airtight container and place them in the fridge uncovered for a few hours until they are fully chilled, then cover them with the lid and keep in the refrigerator up to 3 days.
- Reheat: In a 350 degree F oven or the microwave until warmed through.
- Freeze: Not recommended.
Chicken Pizza Recipe
Ingredients
- Nonstick cooking spray for oven directions
- 1 ball Homemade Pizza Dough or store-bought (1 pound)
- 2 tablespoons olive oil divided (for grill directions)
- ¾ cup prepared pizza sauce
- 1 cup cooked and pulled/chopped chicken
- ½ cup roasted garlic cloves from 3 heads; see Notes below
- 8 ounces fresh mozzarella cheese sliced
- 1 tablespoon Everything Bagel Seasoning
- ½ cup fresh basil leaves torn
Instructions
OVEN DIRECTIONS
-
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Spray large pizza pan with cooking spray. Toss and stretch pizza dough into 14-inch circle and place on prepared pan. Transfer to oven and bake 10 minutes.
-
Remove from oven. Spread crust evenly with pizza sauce. Top with chicken, roasted garlic cloves, cheese and everything bagel seasoning.
-
Return pizza to oven and bake for an additional 6 to 8 minutes or until cheese is melted, chicken and garlic are warmed, and dough is cooked through. Sprinkle basil over pizza; return pizza to oven and bake 2 minutes. Cut and serve immediately.
GRILL DIRECTIONS
-
Preheat grill for two-zone grilling: half of grill should be set to medium-high (this is the direct grilling zone); other half should be off (this is the indirect heat zone).
-
Stretch and shape dough into 14-inch circle and place on pizza pan or large tray. Brush one side of dough with 1 tablespoon oil (a silicone basting brush works well for this). Use hands to carefully transfer dough to direct heat side of grill, oiled side down. Do not worry if dough becomes a little misshapen during the transfer, it will still be delicious. Cook 2 minutes, or until the dough releases itself from the grates (do not disturb dough before it releases).
-
Brush top side of dough with remaining 1 tablespoon oil, then use tongs to flip dough. Cook 2 minutes or until dough releases from grates. Continue cooking dough 3 to 4 minutes longer or until dough is firm and grill-marked in all areas, flipping and rotating frequently but keeping grill closed when not flipping.
-
Remove dough from grill and spread with pizza sauce. Top with chicken, roasted garlic cloves, cheese and everything bagel seasoning.
-
Transfer pizza back to grill on indirect heat side. Close grill and cook 8 to 10 minutes or until toppings are warmed through and crust is fully cooked.
-
Remove pizza from grill and top with basil. Cut and serve immediately.
Notes
- The EASIEST way to get roasted garlic cloves is buy a scoop from the olive bar at an upscale grocery store.
- To roast garlic at home: Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Trim off the tops of 3 whole heads of garlic until the tops of the cloves are exposed. Wrap garlic heads in foil and place on small rimmed baking pan. Transfer to oven and cook 50 to 70 minutes or until garlic is dark golden brown and very soft. Remove from oven and let stand for 10 minutes or until cool enough to touch. Squeeze garlic cloves from their skin into a small bowl.
- Garlic can be roasted up to 3 days in advance. Keep in covered container in refrigerator until ready to use.
The Winking Man
Written in response to: “Set your story in a world where time travel has been perfected, and people can use it to hop between alternate timelines — but at a cost.“
Derrick M Domican
Science Fiction Suspense Thriller
I knew everything I could ever want to know about this cursed place.
But despite that, and despite being calm when I’d stepped onto the beach half an hour before, I was now less than two minutes from acquiring what I’d come for and my fifty-year-old body trembled like a house of ill-stacked cards.
I was under no illusion. This was not an easy task and I was taking an incredible risk, with the chance things could go very badly wrong. All it would take was a split second’s hesitation at any point during the next ten minutes and my whole world would, by all accepted logic, cease to exist. Of course, the risk was worth it, and I couldn’t turn back now, but everything had to be perfect.
Because I wasn’t the only one lurking in the shadows here tonight. There was another with a similar agenda, the winking man, most likely preparing to strike now, just like me.
I had to be quicker.
I looked at the watch strapped to my wrist and saw the time change to 9:50. I had to get ready to move, making sure to be invisible to all but clear to him. He needed to see me approaching the villa, he needed to be surprised and stopped in his tracks, so I shifted uncomfortably amongst the pulpy, large-leafed plants and tugged a dark grey ski mask from my pocket, pulling it on over my head. It wasn’t the first time I’d tried it on, but this time was different, this time was real, and I started to feel sick to my stomach.
A click. A muffled laugh. The shuffling of feet.
I’d just finished adjusting the opening of the mask around my eyes when the door to the villa slowly opened, allowing a young, familiar-looking couple to step out. I stopped dead, caught my breath, tried to merge further with the shadows.
They were dressed up for the night, she in a short, black dress, he in khaki shorts and a loose-fitting Hawaiian shirt. They giggled annoyingly as they closed the door, turned the key, tugged the handle to make sure it was locked, so safety conscious. Satisfied it was, they linked arms and headed off along the lamp-lined path before the villas, passing curtained windows, speaking in hushed tones as they left them behind.
Left everything behind like a pair of fools.
I shook my head, banishing the thought. No time for that, no time to get wrapped up in judging stupid strangers. I needed to keep my emotions in check. Every one of them. Just for ten more minutes. After sixteen years, that wasn’t an unreasonable ask.
I took a deep breath when they vanished, turning at the end of the block. I knew where they were going, to the poolside bar, to meet the friends they’d made here, people they’d gotten to know. They were going to share a few drinks, have a few laughs, it was the last night of the holidays, so why not? They had no reason to think it was a mistake. They had no way of knowing someone was lurking in the dark, waiting to change their lives, forever.
Someone like me.
Everything happened then quickly. I had no idea which direction the winking man might come from or at what precise second he would appear, for all I knew he could have been in those very same bushes there with me, a couple of steps behind or to the side, maybe having gotten there first, fallen still when he saw me arrive. The thought crossed my mind that I may have already done enough, just by making it this far, to make him give up on his quest. He might have spotted me sneaking in the dark and already left.
But that didn’t mean I could quit. I was committed, there was no way out. I’d spent many sleepless nights weighing up the options, and doing nothing other than scaring him away was certainly one. But the consequences of that, the changes it might cause, were too mind-bogglingly complex to comprehend.
Doing nothing could only make things worse at this juncture, and besides…I’d waited this long. I’d been through so much to get to this moment, I wasn’t going to let myself fizzle away, as selfish as I knew that to be. This was my life, my world, my time. I’d lived through it, every gut-wrenching, grief-stricken second, and I deserved my reward.
It wasn’t going to all be for nothing.
Adrenalin kicked in as I pushed myself up and left the bushes, like a shadow coming alive to stalk the night. It took me just seconds to cross the lawn, step over a low, yucca hedgerow, dash across the cobblestones to the villa, press myself back against the wall and crouch low beneath a window. I paused, casting furtive glances left and right while gasping for breath inside the mask.
No sign of him.
The coast was clear.
I licked my lips, swallowed hard, steeled myself for what was next, the most difficult thing I had ever done or ever would, then rose, turning to place my gloved hands on the glass. The latch wasn’t engaged. I knew it wouldn’t be. The window went up easily, without a sound. I knew it would. The curtain inside billowed, revealing the dimly lit bedroom beyond.
I hoisted myself up on the window ledge and grunted, wriggling less than gracefully through the narrow gap and curtains. It wasn’t easy, but I’d been practising and I managed to swing my legs through without falling to the floor. Once inside, I eased the window shut and stepped into the centre of the room.
Now came the hardest part.
I found what I’d come for at once. The treasure I’d desired for so long. My heart was aching, threatening to explode. I wanted to sink to my knees, just drop to the uncarpeted, marble floor there and stare, but there wasn’t time. A glance at the watch told me it was 9:51. The winking man might arrive at any moment. If he hadn’t seen me sneaking around outside, if he hadn’t seen me enter the villa, he could still appear and ruin everything.
I needed to avoid confrontation at all costs but more than that, I needed to be crossing the road to the beach in eight minutes so…
I didn’t turn on any lights. I averted my gaze as much as possible. I didn’t think, I acted, like a robot, emotions as numb as they always were, every day, mind blank. It went against every natural instinct. What I wanted to do was different, but I had to stick to the plan. I had to be completely dead inside, and luckily for me, that was easy. There would be time for living later, if everything worked out. It just required one last monumental effort.
It took me a minute to do what I had to do and then I was out of the room, crossing ceramic tiles to the high-arched doorway, bounty in my arms wrapped in a blanket. I didn’t hesitate. I fumbled with the lock, got it open. My knees were about to buckle but I pushed against the door and stepped outside. Nobody was there. The only one who might have been was the winking man and I was prepared to do whatever it took to get past him.
I made my way back to the lawn, held my breath as I strode towards the woods, every single second like forever. I was ready to run should anyone shout a warning. No one did.
Back in the shadows I paused to catch my breath, glancing back at the villa to make sure the door hung open. I couldn’t see my watch but guessed the time was now 9:53. Five minutes to reach the road. I was tempted to wait a bit longer, to see if the winking man would appear. He had to be close, if he was still here, watching from nearby, wondering who I was, frozen by indecision due to this unexpected development.
It didn’t matter. As much as I wanted to see him, to hurt him, I couldn’t risk any interaction, couldn’t risk losing the steely resolve I was somehow managing to maintain. I couldn’t risk changing a thing, so I pushed him from my mind and entered the woods.
Every step I took I wanted to break down. Give in to the unbearable weight of emotion that was rending my heart. I’d known all along this wasn’t going to be easy but no amount of mindfulness or meditation could have prepared me for holding this bundle in my arms. Don’t think about it. Get to the road, focus on hitting your mark, the traffic light, 9:58. Almost there. Just a few more minutes and you can let it all out, once and for all.
In the darkness, through the tears that gathered unbidden in my eyes, it was difficult to navigate the tightly-packed fir trees and their spiky, pointing branches. More than once I lost my footing and slammed against a bole, more than once the exposed flesh around my eyes was scraped and poked by the tip of a branch. I had to ignore the discomfort, blink away the tears, keep surging forward. The sounds of the waves crashing on the nearby coast had reached my ears and I hoped they would mask the sounds of my movement to anyone who happened to be nearby. Though the only one that could have been was him.
What if he decided to tackle me, to take what he’d come for by force rather than stealth? What if he hit me from behind, took the bundle and disappeared into the night like he had done before? All of this would be for nothing. The years of pain, Janey’s suffering and death, the family falling to pieces, selling everything I owned and risking my freedom to buy this watch and thirty minutes of chronofuel on the black market. I could never change any of what happened but I could at least save one soul, maybe two, if there was hope for me beyond this. I just had to stay calm until…
The road appeared before me as the forest opened. Relieved, I crouched low in the long grass at the verge, watching as the clouds above parted, allowing a curious crescent moon to at last peep out. Gently, so as not to disturb it, I drew my cargo closer to my chest, craning my neck so I could see the watch. 9:57. I panted, tilted my head to the side, rubbed my face against my shoulder. One of the branches had cut my cheek, I was bleeding. Damnit.
The time on the watch changed to 9:58 and I rose and stepped onto the road, started to cross. This was the most important part. I turned my head and looked left, towards the traffic light glowing red a hundred yards away. I stared at it as I crossed, counting the seconds in my head, one, two, three, four, until I reached the opposite side and stepped onto the beach.
I couldn’t see the camera mounted to the top of the light but I knew it was there. That camera had captured a man crossing this road all those years ago, holding something precious in his arms. The one and only lead that ever existed, the one and only piece of evidence to show that a real life human had been responsible. That footage would be paused and zoomed in on, enhanced as best as it could but still resulting only in a grainy shot of a furtive man, balaclava concealing his features. That image would go on to appear on every newspaper and television show and book cover and reward poster for years after. It was burned into my mind, I saw it every time I closed my eyes. And there I was now, recreating it. Same time, same place, same kind of clothing down to the head covering. The only thing I didn’t do, refused to do, was replicate the most unsettling part.
The wink.
The camera had captured the culprit winking as he crossed the road, as if he knew he was being recorded, knew the footage would be found and viewed, knew it would be of no use to anyone and so he could mock us.
I had to replicate everything that happened as near as possible so as to eliminate the chance of anything changing. Everything had to play out exactly as it had done. Everything.
But I wasn’t going to wink. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. ‘The Winking Man’ was how he had come to be known. And I was going to erase him.
I stepped on soft, dry sand, looking away from the road as I got out of sight of the camera. There was nothing else to do now. I just had to walk, retracing my footsteps on the beach from earlier, walking back towards where I’d first appeared.
There had been no witnesses that night. Nobody had seen anyone on the beach so I didn’t have to worry about that, and the winking man had surely given up. I focused my attention on the sand as I walked, no longer checking the watch, knowing it had passed 9:59, walked, walked, walked until it started to vibrate at 10.
I took a deep breath. The bundle shifted softly in my arms. My vision started to blur, my body tingled and a wave of nausea swept through me as my surroundings faded.
In the void I continued to walk until the darkness cleared and the landscape took shape again. It only took a second. For me. The watch stopped vibrating, the prickling sensation on my skin subsided and my vision cleared. I was still on the beach but things were different. The moon above was full, glowing bright in a cloudless sky. Towering hotel blocks that hadn’t been there before stretched into the night nearby. The thud-thud-thud of music replaced the sounds of the sea.
And the winking man waited up ahead.
As if punched in the gut, I dropped to my knees, making a horrible, guttural sound. The winking man mimicked my movement. He was exactly as he looked in the picture, a freeze-framed, magnified x100 image come to life and transported into my world. Or so it seemed. Until the mind-fog brought on by traversal cleared and I realised I was looking at the polished chrome side of the car I’d driven on to the beach thirty minutes before.
No.
I lowered my bundle to the sand, peeled the sweaty ski mask off my head, cast it aside and stared in horror at my reflection, my swollen left eye surrounded by blood from where the fir branch had nicked me, making it look like I was…
“Daddy?”
The voice from the blanket was all it took for the dam to burst and the emotions to explode and every single bit of long repressed trauma to urgently pour out of my soul. I started to cry like I’d never cried before while holding her as tight as I dared, burying my face in her shoulder, remembering her smell, the touch of her hair, the sound of her voice.
“Daddy, what’s wrong?” she said, wrapping small arms around my neck. She couldn’t see how different I looked. “Why are we on the beach? Where’s Mummy?”
I held her close and cried relentlessly, watching my heaving reflection in the polished chrome door and the child-abducting bastard winking back at me.
Why are China’s STOBAR carriers seen as less capable than US carriers, and what limitations do they have?
STOBAR, or “short take-off but arrested recovery” are a type of aircraft carrier that have ramps or “ski jumps” at the bow to give accelerating aircraft a free upward vector to their speed as well as a higher AoA or “angle of attack” allowing their wings to bite the air a bit better and achieve flight on a short distance. This differs from CATOBAR or “catapult assisted take-off but arrested recovery” and STOVL or “short take-off vertical landing” ships.
The STOBAR carrier Shangdong, the first Chinese carrier built entirely by China:
STOBAR has a few advantages:
- Less expensive to build and operate due to fewer moving parts compared to catapult-equipped ships due to lack of complex catapult systems and fewer crew due to no need for catapult operators or maintainers.
- Carrier operations achievable at a lower technology threshold. Catapults, even the steam types used by the US Navy and others going back to the 1950s, is not a simple technology and requires money and time invested at multiple levels both inside and outside the military. The US Navy considers aircraft carrier catapults a vital national secret requiring serious clearances, to the point of covering the catapults against photographic surveilance while under construction or repair.
- Ability to operate normal carrier aircraft without the expense and tech investment of catapults without having to develop complex vertical-landing jets like Harriers or F35Bs, again a lower tech level.
STOBAR has some notable disadvantages:
- Aircraft are limited in takeoff weight in at least some conditions. This means less fuel, fewer weapons, or both, limiting what the aircraft can do on any individual sortie and requiring more aircraft sorties for the same offensive punch.
- The ship must be moving into the wind at high speed for effective aircraft operations, severely limiting tactical choices while operating aircraft, including steaming at high speed in the opposite direction of the target because that is where the wind is, making combat sorties more difficult. Moving into the wind also requires a predictable course, simplifying enemy target solutions on the STOBAR carrier.
- Types of aircraft are limited to high thrust/weight ratios, meaning almost exclusively fighter jets. Even a STOBAR ship has to be big and expensive to be any good, and if you sink the cost but cannot operate AEW&C aircraft or ASW jets or cargo/delivery aircraft, the ship becomes extremlely limited in what sort of combat it is capable of engaging in.
Here you can see CVN 68, USS Nimitz, a CATOBAR carrier with F14 Tomcats, F18 Hornets, A6 Intruders, EA6B Prowlers, E2 Hawkeyes, and S3 Vikings on the flight deck, a ship capable of performing air superiority, anti-ship attack, land attack, electronic warfare, airborne surveilance and command, and anti-submarine warfare simultaneously, something STOBAR ships simply are not capable of. In this overhead view you can see how, despite being a large ship, the American carrier design has compromises to minimize size and expense. The angled landing strip is the shortest possible, and the bow catapults, also the shortest possible, are angled to allow simultaneous launch and recovery of aircraft.
Here is China’s first CATOBAR carrier, Fujian, showing its flight-deck design flaw. Here you can see that the ship can only use one catapult to launch if it wants to simultaneously land aircraft, severely limiting its sortie rate and by extension its combat power. The Nimitz can use both bow catapults while landing aircraft, meaning one catapult can launch while the other prepares the next jet to launch. For maximum launch rates both ships can use all their catapults, 3 on Fujian and 4 on Nimitz. The ship is also reportedly diesel powered, limiting speed. While this ship is an achievement, it shows how designing carriers is not simple and the cost of the learning curve. There were notable deficiencies in the USA’s early carriers of Forrestal and Kitty Hawk classes not fully addressed until the JFK, CV67, and Nimitz, CVN68. China’s next design will almost certainly be better and likely nuclear-powered. Even with the design flaw, Fujian is an impressive accomplishment.
An example of STOVL operations, allowing a smaller ship but requiring complex, expensive aircraft. In this case an F35B operating off a Japanese ship:
Feminist HR Director LOSES IT When Male Employees Document Everything With Body Cameras
Why is the American economy bigger than the Chinese? Most of the things I have are made in China, not in America.
I just had some rice noodles at 11pm after working extra at the office, in a district that’s comparable to Manhattan.
It cost me $3. And my working almost to midnight? It cost the company 0 cents in extra pay.
That’s why China’s economy appears smaller than the US.
Ex Wife Regrets Asking For Open Marriage & Comes Crawling Back
Mississippi story
A little over 10 years ago in Gulfport, Mississippi, my son, Tad Wyatt Swan, was found dead, body dumped in to a construction ditch with no shoes or no socks and missing his paycheck. He just gotten his money a few hours before.
The first interview with the corner, they said they’re gonna investigate it as a homicide because nobody walks 35 yards off the road barefooted over a construction site of broken of concrete, rebar and dives head first into a ditch.
It took me a year and a half to get the police report and 2 1/2 years to get his death certificate because the coroner was not a doctor just an elected official and didn’t want to have an open file and was trying to make it into a suicide. He had to finally relent and make it as undetermined. He is very political did not want an unsolved murder on a Mississippi Gulf Coast because of the beaches and casinos.
I have had to live this nightmare for the past 10+ years and maybe you’ll be able to find some peace someday because somebody knows what happened.
Tad It was a very fun, loving person who had his difficulties, but everybody loved him, and I pretty much freeze him by myself as a single part with his brother and sister.
Tad’s Personal items were found a mile from where his body was found, who is found faced down in 14 inches of water, but did not drown. I don’t think you need to be a CSI Expert to understand that he was dead before he was dumped there.
I have asked the state of Mississippi seven times for his autopsy File but somehow it never gets to me so I don’t know who’s stopping it!
** additional info ***
To further this story after I found out my son, Tad, was killed, I had to drive to get something done. When I pulled up to a stop sign I looked out of my big F-150 Crew Cab and saw a Dime on the road! I put the truck in park, got out and picked it up! Then, because my son owed me some money, I held the dime up towards heaven and said, “Buddy, I know you owe me some money but paying me back $0.10 (ten cents) at a time, it’s going to take a long time!” I said this with tears in my eyes! As of the last count, since his murder 10 plus years ago I am at 123 dines found everywhere while traveling with UA Airlines! He still talks to me!
If you care, give us a thumbs up and share the
His story is on Facebook. You can search Justice For Tad.
And a two minute story is on YouTube!
I love and miss you so much, son!
Love Pops!
Pictures
The Waiting Room
Written in response to: “Set your story in a world where time travel has been perfected, and people can use it to hop between alternate timelines — but at a cost.“
⭐️ Contest #196 Shortlist!
Paul Besancon
Eric watched them through the window. The night was cold, yet no breath fogged the glass when he leaned closer. That took some getting used to the first few journeys he made. Now, it was trivial. As always, the glass was dirty. She regularly teased him to help out around the house more. He kept up with the maintenance, but cleaning was never his forte. Still, he could have helped out more. One of many regrets.
That was when he felt it. God damn hands. They were shaking again, but he never let go of the cylindrical key fob resting tightly in his grasp. With each trip, the shaking grew worse.
A crash came from inside the house. “Oh no! Sowwy!” A child’s voice.
“It’s okay honey, just be careful not to cut yourself. Don’t touch that!” a brunette beauty warned the child before grabbing some paper towels. Always odd seeing paper towels again. But what held Eric’s attention was that of the woman and her captivating green eyes, as well as the little girl who fumbled the task of transporting a cup to the younger man sitting at the table. He was laughing, bringing a smile to the girl’s face. A tooth was missing, but her smile was still the most beautiful Eric had ever witnessed.
The man stood, hoisting up the girl. At least it’s just tiles and not carpet. “At least it’s just tiles and not carpet,” the man said, planting a kiss on the girl’s round cheek. “Here, let me help babe.” He plucked some paper towels and began scrapping the broken glass into a pile.
“Careful. Don’t want you getting cut,” the woman smiled, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Sowwy daddy.” The little girl hugged his neck.
At that moment, hot tears streamed down Eric’s face. Little bits of lava sliding through the crevices of his wrinkled skin. That’s why he came. Those tears were the only painful happiness he could feel.
“It’s okay baby girl. Daddy’s got you.” The man nuzzled cheeks with the little girl.
I can’t take anymore. Didn’t last long this time. Eric’s shaky hands fumbled with the key fob, eventually sliding the head piece back with a click. The contraption lit up when opened. Several options emitted from the small touch screen. With a few clumsy taps, he closed his eyes. A bright flash was seen behind wrinkly lids. Then he felt it: warmth.
With open eyes, he was granted the view of the what they called ‘The Waiting Room’; a small, circular capsule that housed white panels covering the most advanced tech of the era. It was somewhat eerie, even to a veteran traveler like him. But he found the thrumming from the panels soothing. Albeit, it was daunting to those unaware of their function. He knew, however. For they were descendants of his own design.
“You good?” A familiar voice asked over the loudspeaker.
Eric gave a thumbs up.
“Alright. You know the drill. Thirty seconds for acclimation procedures.”
Eric nodded solemnly, shakingly wiping the last tears from his burning eyes. Damn it! I should have stayed longer. Curse these hands!
Eventually, the door to the capsule opened and a younger man stepped inside. It was Drew, Eric’s protégé and the voice on the loudspeaker. Drew wasn’t pleased. “You’re not looking so good, boss. Shaking’s getting worse. You need a break. Keep coming every day and your neurological system is going to be shot to hell.”
“I’m well aware of the risks, Drew.” Eric walked into the hall, pressing the key fob against Drew’s chest as he passed.
“We just worry about you, that’s all.” Drew took the fob and followed.
“I built the damn thing. I know what it entails.”
“How did this run go?”
Eric stopped in his tracks. Two employees in lab coats walked past, nervously nodding greetings. “It was…wonderful. Painful. Glorious and tragic. Like every time.”
“Sounds like life, eh?” Drew’s eyebrow peaked.
“It was life, Drew. It was.”
“Indeed.”
***
Eric sat on the edge of his bed. Curling his toes in the carpet always brought him a comforting welcome to the new day—a day he often contemplated not seeing ever again. But not this day. No, he had to see them again. One last time, he told himself every morning.
“Remove tint,” he called out.
“Removing tint,” a monotone voice replied from unseen speakers.
The dark wall before him suddenly turned into clear windows, and he was blessed with the grand view of the awakening city. Glass-plated skyscrapers and sky railways filled his sight.
Standing naked before the glass as he did every morning, he knew that none could see him. Another pleasure of high-tech windows. The bustling city was already in full swing. He could make out the plethora of drone transports on the streets as well as flying people around the city’s massive buildings. Only government and licensed companies could offer drone services. Legislation was being pushed to allow individuals to operate their own drones, but that would take years. I remember when everyone had their own car. City buses and subways were simply an option, not a requirement. Luckily, he owned several drone and railway companies, making transportation for himself a trivial matter. And the public transport drones were free for all, if one didn’t mind overcrowded, malfunctioning cesspools of crime.
A notification pinged on his tablet: a reminder of the day’s reserved Waiting Room. That capsule was for his own personal use. There was no need to schedule, he could use it whenever he wished. But he suspected he was a slave to routine, and seeing the notifications catered to that aspect of his being. But today, he was going in early, despite the risks. I didn’t see them enough last time…
***
“Whoa, whoa Eric! You’re way too early. You know what that can do to you!” Drew held his hands up to the older man. “Come on, be reasonable!”
“We go through this every time, Drew.” Eric waved away his concerns.
“For good reason,”—Drew blocked the Waiting Room door with a hand planted firmly against the frame—“I can’t just stand here and let you do this to yourself. I…it breaks my heart.”
“What the hell do you know of broken hearts? You’ve never lost so much as a pet hamster.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t sympathize. Look, I get it. I really do. Sure, I might not have lost a loved one before, and I hope it’ll be a long time before I do. But if you croak because of this, then I will experience that loss. You’re like a father to me, so call me selfish.”
Eric was touched, but he had made up his mind long ago when it came to this venture. “Look, kid. The entire purpose of me developing this technology was so I could see them again. I can’t change their fate, but at least I can see them. That’s all I have left in this life—seeing them one last time.”
“That’s the problem Eric, it never is ‘one last time.’ You’re in here every single day and your neurological pathways cannot handle that stress. I mean look!” Drew pulled up Eric’s hands. The tremors were worse, even moving down to his elbows.
“I don’t give a damn. My life!” Eric yanked his hands away and firmly pushed past the younger man. He snatched the key fob out of Drew’s shirt pocket and began fumbling with it. God damn hands! he cursed, smacking the shaky appendages on his thighs. “You going to come along, or you going to queue me up?”
Drew simply shook his head in defeat before exiting the Waiting Room. After a minute or so, he was heard over the loudspeaker, “Your funeral.”
“Damn straight. You know where to send me. And Drew”—he paused—“this is my choice. Not yours. Don’t take on any guilt, kid.”
The loudspeaker crackled for a bit, and then Drew finally spoke, “Yes sir.”
At that, the mechanical whir began, growing louder with each second until it reached a crescendo. Eric welcomed the rhythmic buzz. It was almost a part of him.
“Processing time sequence. Charting jump. Implementing countdown. Eyes closed, boss. Initiating jump.”
That familiar bright light and humming enveloped Eric. He remembered when he first invented the capsules. Back then it took nearly three hours to initiate a jump back in time. But now, it only took seconds. Oh, how technology flies. All the brilliant minds he employed over the decades was to thank for that. Particularly Drew. Eric was blessed to have such a worthy protégé take over in his retirement. Not only did the young man have the intellect and knowledge, but the moral coding to lead the company into the right direction. If…when I die, at least I can say he was one good thing I left behind. Even though he’s not my own son.
But then Eric’s thoughts shot to the present, or more accurately, the past. He knew to open his eyes when he felt—nothing, to be precise. No temperature, no wind or summer breeze, no cool night air or misty spring morning. This was a result of the known Ericonian laws, which state that time travel is subject to observance only, and limited to traveling to the past. Thus, when one is sent back in time, they’re unable to interact with anyone or anything. They’re virtually in spirit only, taking on a ghostly presence that can only watch. Although, many of his critics suspected this was deliberately implemented, rather than a limit of technology or research. Fortunately, Eric had the world’s top lawyers to muster up ironclad patents that prevented any to take on his research until after his death. So long as he lived, the world would never know the truth behind his work. In fact, not even the company knew. Only Drew was privy to what truly lied behind Ericonian systems. And Eric trusted him to do the right thing with it once he’s gone.
A child’s laughter. That was the moment he always chose to open his eyes. Nothing was sweeter than hearing that infectious, innocent giggle. Then came hers—that golden, honeyed voice calling out to him. “Eric! Your daughter is going to be the death of me. I can’t keep up!” The green-eyed goddess of his dreams chased the girl around the picnic blanket. He watched as they laughed joyfully when his wife picked up their little girl and lifted her to the sky before planting a raspberry on her tummy, much to the screaming toddler’s delight. His eyes drifted to his much younger self, lying back on the blanket with a big smile.
“Amy, don’t kill your mom please. I like her,” his younger self teased.
“Okay daddy!” Amy giggled. Another raspberry blurted out from her soft belly.
The tears flowed, as they always did. Older Eric wiped them away. Despite being invisible to them, he always observed from afar. It never felt right to intrude on their happiness with his own despair. Yet, it was still hard to watch from a distance.
Suddenly, he felt something dripping down his mouth. He reached up to discover something warm and metallic slipping between his fingers. Blood? Then he collapsed, shaking violently. No! Not yet! Not now! His vision blurred; his head felt like it was going to split open. How can it have come so fast? He forced himself to open the key fob. The shaking made it difficult to grasp the device and input the proper sequence for evacuation. I must see them one more time. Just once more!
Then came the flash, and the warmth of the Waiting Room.
“Eric!” Drew could be heard over the loudspeaker. The worry in his voice quite apparent. “Eric! Don’t close your eyes. The doc is on the way. Stay awake! Eric!”
I’ll just, close them for a moment. I’m so tired. It hurts so much. Maybe if I just sleep a little while…
***
“He’s waking up,” said a familiar voice.
“Thank god.” That’s Drew. Where am I? “Eric, you okay? How you feeling?”
“You shouldn’t push him too much right now. He’s taken a heavy hit. Give him some time.”
“Where am I?” Eric managed to utter. His voice but a shallow whisper.
“You’re in the private clinic. Dr. Jurgen says you should be okay.”
“If he stops using the Waiting Room,” Dr. Jurgen muttered. “How many times have I warned you this would happen? How many times has Drew? But nope, why listen to the experts?”
“Thanks doc,” Eric gave him a shaky thumbs up. “Now, I’d like to speak with Drew in private, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure, why not? Not like you almost died and need monitoring or anything.” Dr. Jurgen exited the room, grumbling in protest.
When they were alone, Eric looked to Drew, his head shaking uncontrollably. “It’s time.”
Immediately, tears began to well in Drew’s eyes. “I was afraid you were going to say that. Look, if you just stop using the Waiting Room, you’ll be fine. You just have to let them go.”
“I can’t. You know I can’t.”
“But—”
“—Drew…I’m done. You know what this means.”
Drew wiped his reddening eyes, nodding reluctantly.
“Help me.” Eric stood, wobbling on shaky legs. Drew put an arm around him.
They slowly walked to Eric’s Waiting Room. Luckily, all the other employees wishing him well had gone home for the night. The building was near empty. Drew placed him in the Waiting Room’s access zone.
“You sure you want to do this?” Drew swallowed back more tears.
“We’ve discussed this a million times, kid. I made my choice long ago. I have to see them one last time.” It took all his strength, but Eric managed to smile. He lifted a shaky hand up to Drew’s face, wiping away a tear and gently patting his cheek. “I love you, kid. You’re gonna do great.”
Drew lost it and threw his arms around his mentor, who returned the favor. “I don’t want to have to say it, but just in case, goodbye Eric. And tell them I said ‘hello.’”
“Will do, kid. Will do. And Drew, take me back to that moment…”
Drew nodded before exiting the room. After a minute or two, the mechanical whirring hummed.
Heh, I don’t think he noticed. In all the years Eric had taken this journey, this was the first and only time he didn’t grab the key fob from Drew’s pocket. Keep it real, kid.
The flash of light faded and Eric was once again in the past. This time, it was a park with a fairly robust playground. He saw Amy, just coming down the slide. His younger self and wife were sitting on a nearby bench, watching her play.
Shaking uncontrollably, Eric stumbled his way to her. Blood began seeping from his nose again, his vision blurring once more. This time, a needle-like piercing of a high frequency sound stabbed into his brain. But he pushed onward. Reaching into his pocket, he grasped a round device. It held a rotary knob that he slowly turned. I must do this right. I can’t scare her.
He collapsed to one knee. Crawling his way forward, he managed to arrive at his daughter who stood there observing a beetle. The dial rotated a little bit more. That was when she turned to him, her eyes somewhat shocked at first. But then they softened when he smiled.
“Hi. Are you okay?” Her voice was like gentle rose petals brushing against his ears. He fought back sobbing, lest he scare her away.
“Yes, sweety, I’m okay. I just wanted to say hello,” he replied, struggling.
“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”
“Good, that’s good. Your mother is very smart. But I just, well. Can I shake your hand?”
“Um…”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to. I understand.”
Amy looked around, then back at his wife and younger self who were staring directly at her; neither appeared alarmed. Eric knew they couldn’t see him, only Amy was within range of the amplifier in his pocket. Eventually she shrugged, holding out her hand.
Tears stung his eyes as he gasped, slowly reaching out to her. So small. So fragile. He couldn’t control himself any longer. The feeling of her warm, soft hand wrapping around his thumb threw him over the edge. He feared she would run away; instead, she simply put her other hand over his large thumb and whispered, “It’s okay mister. You’ll feel better.”
He laughed, spittle and tears dripping down his face. “Thank you, sweety. Thank you. I have to go now. You…you have a fun time playing, okay?”
She nodded, then ran off giggling.
Eric turned the amplifier dial, ushering himself back into his time bubble. It was worth it. It was all worth it. Watching her run around, his thoughts flashed back to the night he was in the lab at his company and received news of the railway crash. He remembered the sound of his wailing upon discovering his family was no more. He felt the agony of finding out the railway was owned by his company. He never forgot the pain. But he also remembered it being the impetus for him to begin his time travel research. He remembered the drive to succeed in order to change the fate of that horrific day. And then he remembered why he mustn’t. He remembered why changing that day would be erroneous, and would see him never fulfilling his destiny in the first place. But this, this one moment, made it all worth it.
Eric closed his eyes for the last time. No one knew what happened to him, for he was never seen again. Drew had his theories, but didn’t dare travel back to test them. That was Eric’s time, and it was best left to him.
The New Woke Star Trek Is BOMBING
Garlic Pizza Recipe
It’s “cauliflower pizza,” but not in the way you think. Instead of making a complicated crust out of cauliflower, we’re using it as a topping for this Roasted Garlic Pizza recipe.
Roasted Garlic Pizza
I know I’ve mentioned it before, but my husband and I try to eat at least a couple of vegetarian dinners each week. One of the easiest and best ways I’ve found to make this happen is with PIZZA.
I mean seriously, everybody loves pizza, and given the right toppings, nobody will miss the meat at all.
Also, any veggie pizza is automatically 500% less greasy than a pie with pepperoni on it, so you won’t be doing the old blot-this-awkwardly-with-a-napkin-before-I-eat-it trick.
Why You’ll Love this Cauliflower Pizza with Garlic
- The savory sweetness of roasted cauliflower pairs perfectly with the rich, aromatic roasted garlic, creating a flavor profile that is both satisfying and unexpected.
- Incorporating cauliflower as a topping adds a nutritious boost to pizza night.
Garlic Pizza Ingredients
- cauliflower – the star of this pizza, but we’re not making it into crust, we’re using it as a pizza topping.
- olive oil – for roasting the garlic
- salt and pepper – for seasoning the cauliflower so it’s as tasty as it can be.
- garlic – we’ll be roasting an entire head of garlic for this pizza!
- pizza dough – buy a 1 pound ball of store-bought dough or use my recipe for homemade pizza dough.
- cream cheese – this acts as the creamy and flavorful base sauce for the top of the pizza.
- Roma tomatoes – these add juiciness to the pizza.
- Parmesan cheese – provides a salty and nutty flavor, and contributes to the cheesy goodness of this roasted garlic pizza.
- chives – add a subtle onion flavor and pop of color as a finishing touch.
How to Make Homemade Garlic Pizza
- ROAST CAULI + GARLIC. Place the cauliflower on a baking pan and toss with oil, salt and pepper. On the same pan, place the bulb of garlic, drizzled with oil and wrapped in foil.
- PULL CAULI, FINISH GARLIC. After about 50 minutes, the cauliflower will be very brown and done. Transfer it to a bowl, but then return the garlic to to the oven for about 10 more minutes until it is dark brown and very soft.
- CRUST. Place a pizza stone in the oven to preheat, then stretch your pizza dough in a large circle. Spray the stone with nonstick cooking spray then place the dough round on the stone and bake 6 minutes.
- SQUEEZE. While the crust bakes, squeeze the garlic from its cloves and mash it into the cream cheese with a fork.
- TOP. Remove the crust from the oven and spread it with the cream cheese mixture. Then, top it with the cauliflower, tomatoes, cheese and chives. Bake 8 minutes longer or until the crust is cooked through.
How to Make Pizza with Roasted Garlic ahead of time (optional)
Many elements of this pizza can be made ahead of time, making assembly quicker when it’s time to eat:
- The cauliflower and the garlic can be roasted up to 3 days in advance. Squeeze the garlic from it’s cloves while it’s still warm and refrigerate in a covered container.
- The garlic cream cheese can be made a day in advance.
Garlic Pizza Recipe Substitutions
- You can use shredded mozzarella in place of the Parmesan, or experiment with any type of cheese that you like.
- Instead of chives, feel free to use another type of herb like basil or oregano.
- Add a sprinkle of red pepper flakes to spice things up.
Garlic Pizza Home Chef Tips
- If you have a pizza stone, you’ll want to preheat your oven with the empty pizza stone IN it, so the stone gets nice and hot and you get the crispiest crust.
- Allow the pizza to rest for a minute or two after baking to allow the flavors to meld before slicing and serving.
How to Store Homemade Garlic Pizza
Store leftover pizza slices in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 3 days. Reheat in the oven or microwave.
Cauliflower Pizza with Garlic
Ingredients
- 1 head cauliflower florets separated and thinly sliced
- Olive oil
- Kosher salt and ground black pepper to taste
- 1 head garlic top of bulb trimmed off until tops of cloves are exposed
- 1 ball homemade pizza dough, or store-bought 1 pound
- Nonstick cooking spray
- ½ cup cream cheese
- 2 Roma tomatoes sliced into 1/4-inch thick slices
- ¼ cup shredded Parmesan cheese
- 1 ½ tablespoons chopped fresh chives
Instructions
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Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Place cauliflower on rimmed baking pan. Drizzle with oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Place garlic on piece of foil; drizzle with a small amount of oil and tightly wrap foil around bulb. Place garlic on same pan as cauliflower.
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Roast cauliflower until very brown, about 50 minutes, stirring occasionally. Transfer cauliflower to bowl, then return pan with garlic to oven. Roast garlic until it is dark golden brown and very soft, about 10 minutes longer. Let garlic stand for 5 minutes or until cool enough to touch.
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Place pizza stone in oven (leave at 400 degrees F).
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Toss and stretch pizza dough into a 14-inch circle. Once oven is preheated, carefully remove pizza stone from oven and spray with cooking spray. Carefully place dough on stone. Transfer to oven and bake 6 minutes.
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Meanwhile, squeeze garlic from it’s cloves into a small bowl. Add cream cheese and mash together with a fork.
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Remove crust from oven. Spread with cream cheese mixture, then top with cauliflower, tomatoes, cheese and chives. Bake 8 minutes longer, or until crust is cooked through and toppings are hot.
Notes
- You can use shredded mozzarella in place of the Parmesan, or experiment with any type of cheese that you like.
- Instead of chives, feel free to use another type of herb like basil or oregano.
- Add a sprinkle of red pepper flakes to spice things up.
Do a growing number of Greenlanders want to join the US?
One of the issues that is circulating in Greenland is Guam. Greenlanders have taken note of Guam and how Guamanians are treated since their status would be essentially the same. Guam is an unincorporated territory of the United States, meaning that only certain parts of the U.S. Constitution apply to its residents. (Those parts which specify “residents” not “citizens.”) Individuals born in Guam are NOT considered citizens of the United States, but are classified as US “nationals.” They may only vote in federal elections if they reside in one of the 50 states or Washington, DC. They may not vote in state or local elections.
Individuals residing in Guam cannot vote in federal elections, they can ONLY vote in Guamanian local elections and elections for a delegate with limited voting abilities to represent Guam in the U.S. House of Representatives. Guam holds U.S. presidential nominating events and sends delegates to the Republican and Democratic national conventions.
This is, at best, a sorry status. Guamanians have great difficulty in traveling to other countries because their passports are endorsed “NOT A US CITIZEN.” They have trouble getting home loans, car loans, scholarships, etc because they are not considered US citizens. And this will get far worse under Trump’s racist policies.
Why would anyone in Greenland want the third-class status that Guamanians have in the US? Why would they want to lose their universal healthcare? Why would they want to pay the much higher US taxes with no representation? Why would they want to give up their free education? Ask any Guamanian if it is a good idea.
What’s the best “revenge” story you have from meeting a bully years later?
I was at a H.S. Reunion and I was talking with an old friend from grammar school. Danny P is one of those people that that you just really enjoy talking with. Anyway, we were discussing various people that we mutually knew when I confided in him that there was one I had never forgiven.
“God forgive me, please, if I hate him but Richard P is one person I loathe” I said. “Yeah”, he was a horrible bully” Danny responded, “but you don’t have to feel that way anymore”. Knowing that that a$$hole couldn’t have changed, I responded “What jail is he in?” Danny laughed as He replied “the eternal one”.
Shocked and unable to contain my relief, I said “You mean he’s dead?”. “For 10 years” Danny answered, with that quick smile he often sported. “From what?” I blurted out, still Leary of any discussion about this creep. ‘Cancer” Danny responded as I stood there stunned that this Bastard had actually suffered.
“OK, one more question”, I said, trying desperately to keep from feeling good about any of this, yet. “Did he have any kids?” I begged (not even sure why I asked. “No, Danny said, “He’d only been married for a short time”
Deep inside me, I finally let go of the remaining resentment I’d had for this garbage of a human being I’d had the misfortune of growing up around. “Oh my God”, I said, that piece of shit was stopped from even passing on any of his evil to yet another human being”. Danny smiled again though noting, this time “Wow, I hope I never wind up on your shitlist”. “No Danny, I said”, he was the only one that was ever on it and I am so relieved, thanks to you, that it is now finally gone”.
God proved right, as usual. God had told us to avoid taking revenge because he is the one who will exact it completely when it is needed. WOW, He wasn’t kidding!!!!