Return-path: Envelope-to: lojban@lojban.org Delivery-date: Thu, 18 Nov 2021 11:36:08 -0800 Received: from mail.harlemtops11.shop ([104.166.124.24]:48944) by 35cf414ce18a with esmtp (Exim 4.94.2) (envelope-from ) id 1mnnC1-000VPv-Te for lojban@lojban.org; Thu, 18 Nov 2021 11:36:07 -0800 DKIM-Signature: v=1; a=rsa-sha1; c=relaxed/relaxed; s=dkim; d=harlemtops11.shop; h=Date:From:To:Subject:MIME-Version:Content-Type:List-Unsubscribe:Message-ID; i=edward_walsh@harlemtops11.shop; bh=u1VNoII0rybWZrmQrXvDl1ijLio=; b=dMEyLL4vag9BiGix5+3M0GhtHwlTU3Is7cHNyjtU4bsyDBCWiQ+cbescbA8+DxiYRbYf0tdvVijW tP+THNpkdS5npLAjMXxnEhqcVyEdpktK1dR+tcwYpJ0Mrh49ubE7qdBplE1ZSlj1E/mbIuJNCkUY o0qoe2Zo4VN3A6yS8aY= DomainKey-Signature: a=rsa-sha1; c=nofws; q=dns; s=dkim; d=harlemtops11.shop; b=MkzPpi+2oQ0LER8uj34OV0jS6M92UnguBfwMUPny1DPYeCTXbkAF5CWoPXnbDiBdSIxP3eeSLoMI 5xWVTpIgss3oaV57dd+q2fmM4z5IDrT+aFG6Xp2K2+12vcrE3KjP5NX0K+5L2HhTY2ELsMlOB8rx p+RQylaCYoDkgh9fsu0=; Received: by mail.harlemtops11.shop id hiqm140001gr for ; Thu, 18 Nov 2021 14:33:48 -0500 (envelope-from ) Date: Thu, 18 Nov 2021 14:33:48 -0500 From: "Edward Walsh" To: Subject: Black Friday Savings! Flexible Garden Hose - No more kinks and leaks, 60% OFF MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: multipart/alternative; boundary="----=_Part_190_1633477199.1637263679452" List-Unsubscribe: Message-ID: <0.0.0.20.1D7DCB33542F498.1217A0A@mail.harlemtops11.shop> X-Spam-Score: 4.3 (++++) X-Spam_score: 4.3 X-Spam_score_int: 43 X-Spam_bar: ++++ X-Spam-Report: Spam detection software, running on the system "64c8850d9174", has NOT identified this incoming email as spam. The original message has been attached to this so you can view it or label similar future email. If you have any questions, see @@CONTACT_ADDRESS@@ for details. Content preview: ** The Last Garden Hose You Will Ever Purchase! ** This double latex hose will offer you the reach and flexibility you need without the inconvenience of kinks and leaks, whether you're an ardent gardener or just trying to prevent your grass from burni [...] Content analysis details: (4.3 points, 5.0 required) pts rule name description ---- ---------------------- -------------------------------------------------- 0.2 BAYES_999 BODY: Bayes spam probability is 99.9 to 100% [score: 1.0000] 3.5 BAYES_99 BODY: Bayes spam probability is 99 to 100% [score: 1.0000] 0.0 URIBL_BLOCKED ADMINISTRATOR NOTICE: The query to URIBL was blocked. See http://wiki.apache.org/spamassassin/DnsBlocklists#dnsbl-block for more information. [URIs: harlemtops11.shop] -0.0 SPF_PASS SPF: sender matches SPF record 0.0 SPF_HELO_NONE SPF: HELO does not publish an SPF Record 0.8 MPART_ALT_DIFF BODY: HTML and text parts are different 0.0 HTML_MESSAGE BODY: HTML included in message 0.0 HTML_FONT_LOW_CONTRAST BODY: HTML font color similar or identical to background 0.0 MIME_QP_LONG_LINE RAW: Quoted-printable line longer than 76 chars -0.1 DKIM_VALID Message has at least one valid DKIM or DK signature -0.1 DKIM_VALID_AU Message has a valid DKIM or DK signature from author's domain -0.1 DKIM_VALID_EF Message has a valid DKIM or DK signature from envelope-from domain 0.1 DKIM_SIGNED Message has a DKIM or DK signature, not necessarily valid 0.0 T_REMOTE_IMAGE Message contains an external image ------=_Part_190_1633477199.1637263679452 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=utf-8 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit ** The Last Garden Hose You Will Ever Purchase! ** --------------------------------------------- This double latex hose will offer you the reach and flexibility you need without the inconvenience of kinks and leaks, whether you're an ardent gardener or just trying to prevent your grass from burning in the summer sun. There are no kinks or leaks with the Magic Garden Hose since it shrinks and expands. It is easy to store because it compresses to 1/3 of its original length (a 25-foot hose shrinks to 8. 3 feet). There will be no more tangled mess in your shed or untidy unraveling. The 34 brass connectors and double latex material can withstand water pressure of up to 12 bars. A fire hose's working water pressure is around that. The hose's unique FLEX technology makes it easy to store and unkinkable. For ease of usage, the hose spins, extends, and adapts. SHOP NOW UP TO 50% OFF -> http://www.harlemtops11.shop/argot-philharmonic/35a4e2395s86Ky12b6VeB02zb42D18lhscFDrfhscFDrEsvZ7RQWoKmm5r10LV5ozsvl LADV Technical Resources 3306 Holly Trail Wilson NC 27893 8702 End further communication. http://www.harlemtops11.shop/antipode-anticipating/8a06oh2Y395E8K6w10f6e15Pb42D18yhscFDrfhscFDrEsvZ7qQWoKmm7JR1L0Ux6g@@s1v ------=_Part_190_1633477199.1637263679452 Content-Type: text/html; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable =20 =20 =20 =20 =20 =20
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I am a sidekick. I am not the main eve= nt, nor am I very skilled in combat. I am there for support, and most of th= e time I just stand on the sidelines watching. Sometimes I even cheer. I ge= t caught up in the moment, you know? And support is important, as heroes ar= e very fragile, like children. They are very strong chil= dren, but they need to be praised and pushed all the time. Most of them cou= ldn?t do it on their own, I think. So that?s where I come in.

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I am a sidekick. I am there to help th= e hero up as they fall, pull them out of danger in the nick of time, and he= al them as they recover from each mission. I went through school for this -= the academy was grueling, but I passed with flying marks. I could have gon= e to the college for heroes - United Hero Association - but I chose this pa= th instead. I want to be part of the good fight, but I hate the spotlight. = No thank you. I want to blend into the background and run the show behind t= he scenes. And honestly, I?m not really into pain. I don?t care for the ide= a of constantly getting my ass beat. Even when heroes win, there are still = countless injuries involved each time. And contrary to popular belief, they= don?t magically heal all the time. That?s me. I do that for them. Without = me, my heroes would literally die. 

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The hero I have been assigned is reckl= ess and rude. He is not the first hero I have worked with, but he is certai= nly the least enjoyable. He is one of the strongest existing heroes right n= ow, but only in brawn. I have no idea how he passed his exams - he?s dumb. = Possibly one of the dumbest men I have ever met. Combined with being selfis= h, loud, and overly sexual, he?s one of the worst human beings I have ever = come in contact with. Not a single other hero I have worked with has ever t= reated women the way he does. Just because you?re the strongest man in the = entire city does not mean you are entitled to pussy, Jason. And my god, why= is Jason the name he picked? Heroes can have any sort of name they?d like.= It doesn?t even have to correspond with their powers or anything. It?s jus= t... what they want. So why did he pick the name of a classic horr= or villain? Do you think it makes people feel safe to have a hero with= the same name as a mass murderer? I would not feel confident in my savior.= And even without that issue, Jason is a regular ass name. It?s like being = a hero and calling yourself Chad. He could be The Crimson Fist or something= But no. He chose Jason, which isn?t even his actual name and just makes i= t sound like the most exciting thing in his life is the yearly fishing trip= he takes.  

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Did you know that heroes get to pick t= heir sidekick?s name? Yes. Do you even want to know what my name is right n= ow? It?s Pam. PAM. It?s not even an acronym. Jason chose the most boring na= me I have ever been called. What a nightmare. I used to be called The Heali= ng Alchemist when I worked with Punk Sundae - those were incredible names t= hat were mostly chosen for fun, but that made me feel like the coolest side= kick ever. My healing abilities are often taken for granted, but Punk Sunda= e made me feel like a badass no matter what I did. And when I worked with L= izard Man, he let me choose my own name. I picked ?The Iguana?, which was h= ilarious to him. And now I?m Pam. It only solidifies the fact that Jason is= a super normie, because I think he just has a crush on that character from= The Office. Ridiculous. Everyone makes fun of me when the sidekicks get to= gether for our Sunday brunch. 

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And yet... I have not requested anothe= r hero. I know that I could, and the headache of paperwork might actually b= e worth it to work with a hero that is actually a good person and concerned= about the Greater Good instead of getting ass. But I also pride myself in = my ability to persevere, especially when the odds are stacked against me. T= hat is the essence of being a sidekick - reliability and grit. We are the b= ackbone of our heroes, so we have to be the strong ones mentally. If the he= ro cannot go on, we are the ones who drag them back up and push them from b= ehind. Not that I want to be behind Jason at any time, since I?m not even s= ure he really washes his ass. 

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So here I sit at this stupid gala that= ?s supposed to be celebrating Jason?s heroic salvation of the city from som= e kook named Dr. Malice or something. All the names have started to sound t= he same. 

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I look around the ballroom of this gia= nt building that towers over the others in the city. The large windows on t= he west side show a beautiful view of the cityscape, now lit with twinkling= spots that showcase the amount of people celebrating living through yet an= other catastrophic event. This time there was an entire block of apartments= destroyed during Jason?s fight. I managed to keep the injuries to an almos= t nonexistent number, since I actually thought ahead and= evacuated the citizens in the area that the villain was holed up in before= the fight started. A lot of them are going to be super pissed that their a= partments and belongings were ruined, but last I heard, Gravity Girl?s comi= ng in tomorrow to help clean up. So maybe some things will be able to be sa= lvaged, because she has a pretty good head on her shoulders and she doesn?t= just throw stuff around like Gravity Guy does. God, I hate&n= bsp;Gravity Guy. He literally copied Gravity Girl?s entire thing. Just choo= se a different name, lame ass.

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I think my champagne is getting to me,= because I keep ranting in my head. I?ve been sitting here in silence for n= early an hour just stewing, watching Jason bask in the adoration of all the= big wigs in town. And their wives. His eyes linger too long on every singl= e one of their low cut dresses and it makes me sick. I need to do something= about that, but I really don?t know where to start. How do you teach someo= ne to stop looking at others as objects? At this point, I don?t think there= is a way to fix him. 

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I decide not to worry about that for t= he time being, because they all seem to be enjoying themselves and the big = wigs? wives are very happy to have the hero look down their dresses. I wish= my sidekick friends were here, because we?d just sit in this circle of cou= ches by the piano and talk about how stupid our heroes are and laugh. =

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I take another drink of champagne. I t= hink this is my third flute - I?m starting to actually feel a little loose.= Loose enough that I?ve been eyeing some of the people here, because they?r= e almost all normal people and that makes them attractive. Heroes aren?t in= teresting to me and it would be weird to date another sidekick, because tho= se are my coworkers, and you know what they say about that. I tried once. I= dated Bug Boy, who was the sidekick to The Worm. Terrible names, but he wa= s incredible in bed and always got me flowers. I was sad when he broke up w= ith me. Mostly because it?s humiliating to be dumped by someone named ?Bug = Boy?, but also because it made everything awkward when the sidekicks got to= gether after that. He works with Lady Light now though, and they?re based i= n New York, so he hasn?t been around to make get togethers uncomfortable in= a long time.

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My gown is tight and uncomfortable. My= tits feel like they?re going to fall out of it and I miss my normal getup.= I probably shouldn?t have another flute, but I grab one from a passing wai= ter anyway. I should stand up before I drink another one, so that I don?t s= it here drinking and make myself fall over when I finally leave. 

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I walk around the ballroom, trying to = stay graceful the entire time in my heels. I mostly wear combat boots when = I?m out, so I don?t have that much practice anymore. Punk Sundae and Lizard= Man weren?t really interested in galas so I hardly ever had to dress up. B= ut Jason loves them. He can?t get enough. So it seems like I?ve been out al= most every weekend at some sort of event that I have to look nice for. I?m = glad that the United Hero and Sidekick Association provides heroes and side= kicks alike with ample salaries, because these dresses have been expensive = as hell to rent. I haven?t bought a single thing I?ve worn because I don?t = care to keep them. I have my stylist pick one out for each event and then I= return them to the company afterwards. 

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I situate myself by the windows and di= scover that there is a balcony I had not previously noticed. I slink out an= d pull a cigarette from my clutch, lighting it and breathing in with gusto.= Literally nothing feels better than a drunk cigarette. And since my specia= lty is healing, I never have to worry about the effects. It occurs to me th= at I could very easily cure people of their cancer, and I make a mental not= e to stop by the hospital first thing on Monday. I can?t believe I?ve never= done that. I could probably cure the world of a ton of illnesses. But how = could I do that anonymously? I could just show up in the middle of the nigh= t and do it when no one is looking -

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?Hey.?

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The voice rips me out of my thoughts. = I come back to reality and realize that I?ve barely smoked my cigarette and= it?s almost burned out by itself. Cursing, I drop it in the sand container= placed against the balcony railing and turn to the person who interrupted = me. To my surprise, it?s one of the women here who isn?t dressed like me. S= he wears a maroon suit with an olive green tie. I find myself too warm all = of a sudden.

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?H-Hi,? I say lamely.

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?Can I bum a cig from you?? She asks. = ?I didn?t realize there would be a spot to step out, so I didn?t bring mine= ?

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?Oh,? I feel a little sad that she did= n?t just want to talk to me. ?Sure.? I hand her one and she lights it with = her finger. My eyebrow raises. 

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?Don?t tell,? She laughs, and winks at= me. My entire body feels hot. I pull out another cigarette for myself as w= ell. I hold it out and she lights it for me. I feel her eyes travel down my= body as I take a pull. I like it. 

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?Are you a hero?? I ask. ?Usually fire= means??

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She smirks. ?No, and I?m not anyone?s = sidekick either.?

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I can feel my eyes widen to saucer siz= e. ?What? Like, do you freelance?? 

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She leans back against the railing and= blows her smoke out over her head. ?No. I am my own person, and I use my p= owers the way I want.? 

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My brows knit together. ?So? you just?= have them? And you don?t do anything with them except light your cigarette= s??

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?Oh, I do plenty with them besides try= ing to impress pretty girls,? She says. My face becomes searing hot, and I = turn away because her eyes are burning holes in me and I can?t stop imagini= ng what her face would look like between my legs. ?But I only do what I wan= t. On my own terms. No one else is entitled to them.?

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I can?t help but argue. ?But what abou= t the fact that so many people don?t have powers? And th= ey?re helpless??

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She shrugs. ?There are plenty of heroe= s. And even more sidekicks. They don?t need someone like me out there. I?m = not the savior type.? I can?t believe that she doesn?t tell anyone she has = fire power. Is that even allowed? This concept has never occurred to me. I = could just be my own person? Without working for the UHSA at all? I could b= e free to exist without helping an absolutely garbage man? I glance into th= e room at Jason, who now has his hand resting on the ass of someone else?s = wife. 

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?What-? I should not&nbs= p;be asking this - ?What type are you?? I lean forward without even intendi= ng to, and my tits nearly spill out. 

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She grins, and her shiny teeth make he= r look like a devil in the dim light as her gaze feels like it sears my ski= n. ?I?d love to show you myself.? 

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I finish the last of my champagne in o= ne gulp, and I wonder if her hands could burn a trail down my body just lik= e her eyes already have. ?Okay.? 

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Snaggletooth clambered up the side of = the stone well. It?s lip stood a full foot above his head. The rocks were s= lippery with moss and the occasional gooey red mushroom. He stood barefoot = on the edge and brushed the pine needles and dirt off his shirt and trouser= s. They might appear well worn and mismatched, stitched together from disca= rded clothing, but he kept them clean.

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The brownie grinned, his lips the colo= r of tree bark. They stretched tight over a mouth full of bright white shar= ds set in uneven rows and at odd angles. A mop of curly chestnut hair cover= ed his head and trailed down the sides of his face to join a thick beard. A= dense tangle of hair covered the dark skin of his arms, his hands on his h= ips.

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Snaggletooth?s quick brown eyes darted= back and forth surveying his property. Not much was left of it. The one ro= om cabin was long abandoned and, after an unfortunate fire, all its survivi= ng wooden timbers had rotted and returned to the earth. The remaining stone= floor sat in stark contrast to the ground around it. He swept it nightly s= o no leaves or dirt congregated upon it.

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The fireplace still stood and the chim= ney as well, a lone column pointing skyward. The gardens were long gone, ov= ertaken by the forest that surrounded them. The chicken pen, the goat shed,= the rabbit hutch...all gone. The fat house cat, who he had been quite fond= of?long gone. The woman was gone too.

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Snaggletooth had once gone by another = name, but he couldn?t remember it now. The memory of that lifetime was as d= ried up as the well he stood upon. He?d get flashes of it sometimes, like r= aindrops hitting the sand at the bottom. A woman singing while she gathered= herbs, a comfy box with an old quilt by the fireplace, a warm bowl of milk= and honey left on the windowsill.

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Her soul had moved on, as humans do, a= nd he had remained, as faeries do. Snaggletooth had never been without a fa= mily. He had come to this land on a ship with the woman. She was the last o= f her line and, after she was gone, he continued to dutifully tend to her h= ome. Despite his best efforts, the small farm began to deteriorate, and wit= h it, so did he. Brownies were not meant to be without families.

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Years passed and he supposed he went a= bit mad. Large parts of the forest were cut down. Humans built rows of hou= ses on one side of the remaining woods, but none of their families called t= o him. A park was built on the other side of the woods. Many humans came to= visit and their little ones played on the contraptions they constructed. S= till, no one called. He was unneeded, unwanted, unseen.

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Humans teetering on the edge of adulth= ood would sometimes find their way to his home. They would come at night an= d throw parties. At first Snaggletooth enjoyed the revelries and was elated= to have someone to clean up after, but he soon realized they did not care = for his home, his forest. One night they set fire to the cabin. They laughe= d as it burned.

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Still they returned. They left their t= rash laying about, never a thought to leave him even the smallest of tokens= in return. This wasn?t the proper way of things. They insulted him. So he = began to sour their beer and hid in the trees to bruise them with small sto= nes. He enchanted the well so that any trash they threw into it would end u= p back in their own houses, just over the threshold. See how they liked hav= ing their homes made untidy!

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They began to call the place haunted a= nd after a while stopped coming. Snaggletooth was alone once more.=20

 

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The brownie grumbled and stifled a yaw= n. The sun was high in the sky and he should be tucked into bed, soundly sl= eeping, but he had important plans today. He hopped down off the well and b= y the time his small feet hit the ground he was invisible. He scurried down= a deer trail that met up with the humans? biking paths and headed toward t= he heart of the park.

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Josh finished his burger and shoved a = few more fries into his mouth. He shook his drained cup. The stupid cashier= had given him more ice then tea. Angrily, he flicked the emptied ketchup p= ackets off the table one by one.

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He hated his job at the noisy call cen= ter. Flick.

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He hated the small cube he was confine= d to. Flick.

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He hated the customers with their endl= ess complaining and he hated his boss with that fake smile always plastered= on his face. Flick, flick.

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Josh took satisfaction in watching the= leftover ketchup stain the blades of grass red, ruining the perfectly mani= cured look of the park?s picnic area where he ate his lunch every day. He h= oped some kid slipped on them and had as miserable a day as he was having. = Josh checked his watch. He was going to be late. Time to head back. He got = up from the wooden picnic bench and walked towards the parking lot.<= /p>=20

 

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Cara snagged another empty cup from un= der a bush with her tongs and shoved it into the bucket. She watched the ma= n get up from his seat and leave his trash on the table as he did every day= Normally she would be done picking up the litter by now and on to her oth= er duties as a park employee, but the park was particularly filthy after th= e long weekend. And now, while she was in the middle of cleaning, this guy = was adding to her work.

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Trash and recycling bins were placed t= hroughout the park. There were three right next to the picnic area alone! H= ow was it people couldn?t manage to take a second and throw away their own = trash? Didn?t they care about the way the park looked? Didn?t they worry ab= out the safety of other people and the animals?

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?Excuse me, the trash can is just over= there.? She stepped into the path of the man and tried to keep the annoyan= ce out of her voice. She was in her park uniform after all and was expected= to remain professional.

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The man scoffed at her and bent down p= eering at her name tag in an exaggerated fashion.

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?Cara is it? Don?t they pay you to cle= an up the place? You should be happy I?m giving you a job.? The man sideste= pped around her and continued to the parking lot.

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Cara watched him get into a gas guzzli= ng sports car and speed off. She daydreamed about chucking his ice filled c= up at his head as she cleaned up the table and the ketchup packets.<= /p>=20

 

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?How would he like it if I came into h= is home and left trash everywhere!? She grumbled, a little too loudly. Two = women watching their children play on the swing set turned to stare at her.=

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Snaggletooth snickered and stroked the= back of the squirrel that sat beside him on a rock. He?d been watching the= woman named Cara for a week now. He liked her. She hadn?t asked for his he= lp, but he?d come to think that the people of this land just didn?t know ho= w to. He?d help her anyway and besides, he loved playing a good prank.

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He leaned down and whispered something= into the squirrel?s ear. It immediately dropped the nut it was struggling = with and darted off in the direction of the woman. Snaggletooth went in the= opposite direction, back toward home. He had to temporarily alter the ench= antment on the well.

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Cara rolled her eyes as she caught sig= ht of a plastic bag stuck around the base of a trash can. It?s oblong shape= and green and orange lettering made it very distinctive. The stub of a rec= eipt was still stapled to the top. It was from her boss? favorite sub shop = and this was not the first time she had found his trash not quite making it= into the bin. Her boss spent most of his day in an air conditioned office = ?working? and when he did come outside to eat he was just as bad as the res= t of him in his casual disregard for the rules. But because he was her boss= , she never said anything.

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Cara reached for the bag with her tong= s and nearly fell backwards when a squirrel darted out of nowhere and snatc= hed it up. The animal ran a few feet away and perched on a rock at the edge= of the wood line.

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Cara set down her bucket and tongs. Sh= e approached it slowly, not wanting to scare the creature. She had to get t= he bag from it. If it bit off a piece and swallowed it, that could be very = bad. Worse, it might have a nest somewhere and it could accidentally suffoc= ate its young.

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The squirrel sat watching her approach= They were fairly tame. Despite the signs telling them not to, people fed = the wildlife. Cara slowly reached for the bag and just as her fingertips to= uched it, the squirrel turned and dashed off down one of the bike trails. C= ara ran after it. The bag was large, it would likely get caught on somethin= g or the animal would drop it.

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A few times the squirrel stopped, almo= st allowing her to catch up to it. It turned off onto a narrow deer trail a= nd slowed down, carefully maneuvering between the thorny bushes. The bag di= d not get entangled as Cara had hoped. The deer trail abruptly opened up in= to a clearing. The squirrel hopped up onto the side of an old well and drop= ped the bag in, then scampered up a tree and disappeared.

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Cara immediately went to the side of t= he well and looked in. It was pitch black. There was no sign of the bag. A = strange chuckling echo rose up from the depths as a breeze passed over the = mouth. Cara backed away from the edge of the well and glanced around.

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She had never been this far off the tr= ail before. The foundation of a small cabin sat in the center of the cleari= ng and was built from the same stones as the well. Although the rest of the= area was littered with pine needles and other natural debris, the stone pl= atform was clean. Two clumps of yellow daffodils grew on either side of whe= re a door might have once stood. Smooth river rocks neatly outlined their w= eed free beds.

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Clearly someone knew about this place = and was coming out here regularly, which meant this open well was a danger.= It should be covered. She needed to report this to her boss immediately.

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Cara returned to her boss? office and = raised her fist to knock when the door unexpectedly swung open. Dave towere= d over her.

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?Oh there you are, I was just coming t= o find you.? His face looked flush and he wouldn?t meet her eyes. ?I get yo= ur point. Okay? It won?t happen again.?

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?Uh, what?? Cara replied, confused.

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Dave stepped to the side and pointed a= t his desk. It was covered in a healthy helping of mud. In the middle sat t= he sub bag with its signature green and orange logo, the jagged stub of a r= eceipt stapled near the top. It was the same bag she had just watched disap= pear down the well.

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?Okay??, he asked again.

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?Yeah, okay.?, she mumbled. He shut th= e door in her face.

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***=20

 

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The sun was just rising as Cara droppe= d the yellow sticky note with her name written on it into the well. She had= n?t been able to sleep all night. Yesterday?s events were just too weird, b= ut she couldn?t stop thinking about them. She had come into work early, bef= ore anyone else, to put her crazy thoughts to the test.

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She immediately headed back to her bos= s? office and checked his desk. He had cleaned it since yesterday and it wa= s completely empty. No sticky note. Had she really expected to find one?

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The rest of her work day was uneventfu= l and she returned home in the evening exhausted. She opened her apartment = door to find her cat curled up on the carpet in the entryway waiting for he= r. Kittykitty mewed and stretched, immediately heading toward the kitchen e= xpecting dinner.

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Kittykitty would have to wait. Cara wa= s frozen in place. Directly under where her cat had been laying was the yel= low sticky note, with her name on it, in her handwriting.

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The next day Cara took one of her brac= elets, made from recycled glass and plastic cord, with her to work. The bra= celet was completely unique. She dropped it down the well. That night she c= ame home and shooed her cat off towards the kitchen. She didn?t find the br= acelet underneath, but she did find a very old coin.

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***=20

 

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Snaggletooth was delighted by the gift= the woman had sent him. He wrapped it around his wrist twice and admired i= t. The green and blue beads caught the early morning sun like dew drops. He= ?d discovered it in the chimney the previous night. Anything of value that = went down the well ended up in the chimney. He had quite a stash of trinket= s and baubles and all manner of shiny things hidden away in the nooks of tr= ees.

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The woman who had once lived there kep= t her coins hidden in the trees as well. Snaggletooth had sent Cara one of = these, knowing humans found them pleasing.

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He heard someone coming down the path = and immediately hid himself. It was Cara with a full trash bag. She hesitat= ed for a moment and then dropped it down the well. The brownie grinned arou= nd a mouthful of sharp white teeth.

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***=20

 

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Cara payed close attention to the regu= lars the next day. Several glanced around, paranoia on their faces. They al= l placed their trash into the can today. The man who had insulted her a few= days before sat at a table with his friend. They seemed engaged in an inte= nse conversation. She snuck around the side of the cinder block washroom to= listen in.

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Josh leaned in, whispering to his frie= nd. ?Dude, I?m telling you, something ain?t right. I brought my girl here f= or a romantic time...and you know...I disposed of the ev= idence right over there, in those bushes.?

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Mike gave him an exasperated look. ?Ar= e you sure it didn?t just get stuck to your shoe??

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?Come on, I ain?t that dumb.? Josh ret= orted. Did Mike really think he was lying about this?!

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?You?re calling a booty call in your c= ar in a public park romantic.? Mike pointed out.

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Josh rolled his eyes. ?Okay, whatever,= you?ve done it too. The point is the used rubber ended up back in my house= ! The wrapper was there too and the packaging from the Chinese food we orde= red! What if my girlfriend had gotten home before I did?? His heart raced a= t the thought.

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Mike clearly didn?t believe his friend= and got up to leave. ?Dude just put your shit in the bin next time.?

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Cara wasn?t sure why it worked, only t= hat it did. The trash she dropped down the well returned to its owners. She= overheard a few people talking about it in hushed voices. Most people, she= assumed, didn?t talk about it at all. It still sounded crazy, even to her,= and she had proof.

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There was another curiosity of the mag= ic well she had discovered during the last few weeks. Sometimes she?d come = upon an unusual piece of trash: a lost plastic butterfly barrette, a cheap = gold painted hoop earring, a discarded makeup mirror. Whenever she dropped = a bit of sparkly or unusual trash down the well, that night she would find = another coin left just inside her door.

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Cara took the coins to a local pawn sh= op and found out that they were quite old and worth a good bit to collector= s. She made up a story about how she had inherited them from her grandfathe= r, because what was she supposed to tell them? That a magic well was paying= her for trash?

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Over time the park had less and less l= itter to clean up. Cara had to empty the trash and recycling bins more freq= uently and she still maintained the trails and did small repairs, but nearl= y half her job was now gone. Eventually, her boss cut back her hours and sh= e worried that she wouldn?t be able to make rent. Then an idea occurred to = her. She saw litter everywhere she went. In her own apartment complex, alon= g the road, at other parks.

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Working part time now, she volunteered= picking up trash at other places. She?d sneak back in the early morning ho= urs, before the park was open, and dump the garbage down the well. The coin= s that showed up at her apartment more than made up for the loss in salary.=

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A chilly breeze blew past. Snaggletoot= h ducked into the cave he had dug out for the winter. Under the foundation = stones of the cabin his home would stay dry and warm. He surveyed his work.=

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An old crate with discarded coats stitched into a simple qui= lt and pillow made for a nice bed. A cracked cup and bowl, clean and ready = for his next meal, sat on = a table made from scav= enged wood. A shelf hung on one dirt wall displaying the best of the gifts Cara sent to him. Above it hung a tiny m= irror that still smelled of perfume.

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In one corner a pile of acorns were stacked. The squirrel had decided to join him for the winter. Snaggletooth didn?t mind. He liked the company.= His memories were beginning to return. He missed having a family to take c= are of.

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Maybe one day soon he?d remember his old name and then he?d introduce himself to Cara.

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