Surely not fungus, dust or humidity. They have not changed a bit in 5 years. 2 images (2nd image is a close-up)
Processing img ng2x9r2gbuw61...
“Et comme l’humeur qui cause la protuberance du cristallin: est poussée & s’amasse sous la membrane qui recouvre ce corps; c’est aussi à cette membrane, suivant quelle préte ou résiste, que l’on doit attribuer la cause de l’égalité ou de l’inégalité que l’on remarque au cristallin.”
I am studying the history of glaucoma. On page 308 of the following book:
http://cmg.bbaw.de/epubl/online/cmg_08_02.html
Aetius of Amida gives his definition of glaucoma in Greek. He writes (I have copied to the best of my ability): “Περι γλαυκωςεως Δημοςθενους. γλαυκωςις λεγεται διττως η μεν γαρ κυριως γλαυκωςις μεταβολη εςτι προς το γλαυκον και ζηροτης και πηζις του κρυςταλλοειδους υλρου. το δε ετερον ειδος της γλαυκωςεως εκ προηγηςαμενου υποχυματος γιγνεται, πηγνμενου κατα την κορην του υγρου ςφοδροτατα και ζηραινομενου. και εςτι το ειδος τουτο ανιατον. την δε κυριως γλαυκωςιν αρχομενην ενιοτε δυνατον ιαςαςθαι περιπατω τε προς δυναμιν και τριωει του ολου ςψματος χρωμενοι και λουτροις μαλιςτα κατα κεφαλης.” The translation of this is given by Thomas Hall Shastid as follows:
"Chap. LII. — [From Demosthenes] On glaucoma. The name glaucoma is employed in two senses. Glaucoma proper is a coloration of the crystalline humor to a sea-blue, together- with a drying and hardening of that structure. The other kind of glaucoma arises from cataract formation, the exudation becoming hardest and most dry in the pupil. This latter kind is incurable. Glaucoma proper can, sometimes, in the beginning, be cured by the employment of promenades in proportion to the strength of the body, and massage of the whole body and affusion, especially to the head; in summer one should also take cold baths. Moreover, the head should be shorn to the skin, and the eyes anointed with old oil only.”
Other translators say that the crystalline humor instead of having “hardening” undergoes “coagulation” or “solidfication.” I am wondering which Greek word is being translated as “hardening”, “coagulation” or “solidification” of the crystalline. It is kind of important for understanding the history of glaucoma. Ultimately, glaucoma came to mean a hardness of the eye itself. So it is of some interest to know if the ancients were saying that the crystalline lens was merely a solid (but potentially a mushy one), or actually a hard solid. The identity and interpretation/connotation of the Greek word describing the crystalline humor (i.e. lens) is therefore important.
By crystalline lens I mean the same organic lens our own eyes use to focus light: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lens_%28anatomy%29
Isn't it lighter and more powerful than normal lenses? Is it hard to produce?
"We had no idea about the War in Heaven. The assault upon Sam-UL the Grand Architect by the Detainee and the Biological Apostles.
"We had our own problems.
"Lots of problems." - Dunta'akto'o, Fifth Most High (Major) of the 319th Irregulars
"I'm sorry, Momma," - Unknown Infantryman, last words
"The Mantid Diplomatic Representative for the Fourth Interstellar Hegemony realizes that you are unfamiliar with Terrans and believe, mistakenly, that humans are just like everyone else. Trust us when we tell you: suppression and cruelty and deprivation in a concentration camp may make other species give up and die from hopelessness but all you have done is housed two point two million insane killers on your homeworld and made them more feral and savage.
"We're offering the chance to surrender to you before they hit the red line and begin to...
"...we're sorry to inform you that the diplomatic window has closed. That screaming you can hear? That's the Terrans.
"They're coming.
"For you." - Wetted Pen and Sword, Mantid Diplomat, minutes prior to emergency evacuation of Jrek'lerk, home planet of the Ruktrakin, extinct species.
"It has to work. It has always worked before thus it must work now." - Atrekna Council, Prior to The Spoked Offensive
"Look at me and tell me the Lemurs cannot hurt us. LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT MY FACE!" - The Defiled One
"May your sword stay wet like a young girl in her prime." - Hail of the the Metal Kings' Men of War, Terra, Unknown Era
"Cornholio? That is a name I have not heard in a long time." - General TP4, Post Third Clone Consortium War, prior to the Fourth Holy Reformation
"In this grave you have dug for me, there is room within its confines for us both," - Terran Descent Humanity
The Atrekna had used the strategy before, in their pre-history. It had taken months of concentration and meditation on ancient crystalline memory-matrixes that had been recovered through temporal archeology, but the strategy had been rediscovered and examined.
It was the strategy that had forced the Herd Lords to scorch the hyperatomic plane. That brazen unthinkable act had been the only way to stop the Atrekna from overwhelming th
... keep reading on reddit ➡I can't get it out of my head.
The jaws.
The brilliant whiteness.
I know the police said everything collapsed because of all the snow on the roof, but I was there. I saw it, and it damn well wasn't just snow. It was what the snow had become, coming down, sweeping in, hour after hour
in what the weather lady had said was the blizzard of the century.
Of course, it happened the day of my twelve-hour shift, and, "We can't close the pharmacy, now can we?" my boss had said, no doubt from the warmth of his living room while I stood outside, sweating after already having cleared the driveway, watching it turn white again while we talked. "Think of all those people who need necessities. Water, diapers, potato chips," he encouraged me. "We need to stay open for them. We're like a hospital."
One definite strike against me: I lived nearby.
I didn’t say anything. "Maybe we can let you end a little early,” he suggested, to fill the ensuing silence. “How's half an hour sound?"
Spending eleven and a half hours alone at work on the day of the blizzard of the century did not sound good. "Fine," I said, realizing strike two: I was a pushover.
"Fantastic.”
A plow drove by, dumping snow back onto the driveway. Fuck…
Then I dropped my phone in the snow.
Fuck!
After clearing a path to the street, I got into my dad's truck and checked my phone. Some moisture had gotten in behind the camera lens, but the phone itself still worked.
I reversed out of the driveway and rolled along my usual route to work, albeit this morning through whiteout conditions dotted by the occasional car: stuck in the snow, fish-tailed onto the unplowed shoulder, sitting empty in front of houses where other people were spending their unexpected days off…
I arrived slowly but without incident.
The pharmacy where I worked, Quint's Rx, was one of about fifty stores enclosing a big square parking lot, which together with the stores made up our local Amityhill Mall.
It was nothing special ("the mall") and no less so today, except for its eerie and vast emptiness. Not that I had expected anything else. Only madmen and retail workers could be expected to brave today's roads to get to the fucking mall.
I parked, shielded my face with my arm and crossed from the truck to the pharmacy's entrance, where I fiddled using freezing fingers with the lock and key until I heard the satisfying click, and I was in.
At least the interior was cozy, and after I'd shut the door behind me—qui
... keep reading on reddit ➡Hey, gang! I have been playing a lot of DRG lately for the update, and needed some game design practice. So, for the last week, I've been putting together a fully-fleshed-out fictional 5th class for Deep Rock Galactic called The Scientist.
Concept art overview of the Scientist, showing his kit at a glance.
You can find a Google Doc with all of the same information, plus voice lines and design commentary, here. If you have questions on why I used the math that I used, or if you feel something is unbalanced, please check my balance notes before you leave a comment on it. Otherwise, very open to constructive criticism! Leaving a comment in the threads below with some more information.
Let's jump in!
The Scientist
>“Hoxxes is kind of beautiful, in a horrifying, highly-dangerous way.”- The Scientist
The Scientist is one of the playable Dwarves in the game. He is equipped with the “Tyrant” Korlok Launcher and Cacti Rifle T-31 as his primaries, and the Electro-wave Coil Gun and OMLT Egg Thrower as his secondaries. He has the Mobula Flight Module, the Korlok Siphon, and the “Dolphin” Armor Rig as his equipment, and the Acid Flask, Deeptora Bee Bomb, and Stabber Mine 2E as his throwables.
>As the Scientist, you are in-tune with the hostile ecosystem of Hoxxes IV. You carry the Korlok Siphon, which allows you to keep your allies healthy. You are also equipped with the Mobula Flight Module, allowing you to slowly fly, even while carrying heavy objects. Your Korlok Launcher and Electro-wave Coil Gun make you a deadly foe for Hoxxes’ native flora and fauna alike.
Armor Undersuit: “Dolphin” Armor Rig
Concept art of the \"Dolphin\" armor rig, including all 5 variants.
The “Dolphin” Armor Rig is the Scientist’s piece of undersuit armor. It can be upgraded to improve its resistance against Radiation damage.
At Tier 3, the Lead Lining mod grants 50% Radiation Resistance. The “Dolphin” Armor Rig otherwise provides the same modification options as all 4 other armor rigs.
___
Support Tool: Korlok Siphon
>*So THAT’S what R&D wan
... keep reading on reddit ➡I don't want to step on anybody's toes here, but the amount of non-dad jokes here in this subreddit really annoys me. First of all, dad jokes CAN be NSFW, it clearly says so in the sub rules. Secondly, it doesn't automatically make it a dad joke if it's from a conversation between you and your child. Most importantly, the jokes that your CHILDREN tell YOU are not dad jokes. The point of a dad joke is that it's so cheesy only a dad who's trying to be funny would make such a joke. That's it. They are stupid plays on words, lame puns and so on. There has to be a clever pun or wordplay for it to be considered a dad joke.
Again, to all the fellow dads, I apologise if I'm sounding too harsh. But I just needed to get it off my chest.
"I tell you: one must still have chaos in oneself, to give birth to a dancing star. I tell you: you have still chaos in yourselves. Alas! There comes the time when man will no longer give birth to any star. Alas! There comes the time of the most despicable man, who can no longer despise himself." Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarthustra
There is a universal pattern that is multi-dimensional and is chaotic and nature but it is recognizable by your imagination. By using your imaginations ability to recognize this pattern you can predict future events and stabilize systems. This pattern describes matter, energy, magnetism, electricity and all space time, I believe. The pattern's physical form is that of a ribosome. The ribosome is a macromolecular machine that assembles proteins. The universe takes on this pattern at all levels that is to say it is self-similar on all levels and therefore a fractal. Just as the ribosomes in your cells assemble proteins so the ribosomes of the universe assemble minerals, matter, space, time and energy. I beleve creation of new material and transmutation happen. The universal ribosome has everything that you could imagine a self reproducing body should have. It has a crystal storage area for information it has a 'RNA' division fork. Here are some images to help get my point across. https://imgur.com/gallery/hLSHRYZ I can find this pattern described throughout all oral traditions. Is this just a artistic imagination? I don't thin so. It is for this reason that experiments must be performed. I have discussed the form of this universal structure. Now I need to discuss the function of the process. This caveat is important, RNA is not read by motion as in a cell, it instead uses spin to subtly alter the crystals and the structure of the matter, the information is moved in this manner. Us as humans (sorry aliens) are spin machines. We have iron containing blood and a temperature of 98 plus Fahrenheit and are always radiating out orbital angular momentum in the light from our heat. I have used spinning magnets and various light beams as generation techniques for spin which all have a great effect but for this particular task one only needs oneself. It is the subtle altering of a stone that this experiment should reveal. The four Saints I am referring to are Saint Jerome, Saint Catherine, Saint Martin, Saint Eligius. I am not interested in their history, their theology, or there religious practices I am only interested in their mythology an
... keep reading on reddit ➡Hello, fellow-sufferer.
There are pieces of this video I want to remember because they're going to help me become a better person, so I listened to it a few times and transcribed the audio for members of the community here. I thought you might like it. They are some very interesting ideas to consider.
[ What if this world is actually one giant prison? When a 19th century philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer observed the amount of pain we experience during our lifetimes, he conclude it's not happiness and pleasure we are after, but a reduction of the ongoing suffering that is an inherent part of existence.
When looking through the grim lens of Schopenhauer's philosophy, as he compares this world to a prison, or, more specifically, a penitentiary, we start to see astounding similarities. As is the case with prison, no one in general chooses to be here. We can't leave until our sentence ends. Or, unless, we end it ourselves.
We are limited by the walls of time, closing in on us, as each day brings us closer to death. And within the confines of our limitations, we generally experience a stream of suffering, tragedy, worry, and misery. We desperately go from one pleasure to another just to experience temporary relief from pain. In the process, the organisms that inhabit the earth - driven by what Schopenhauer calls a "will to live" - feed on each other in an attempt to survive, just so they can prolong their miserable lives a bit longer.
Like prison gangs, the species of the world are entangled in a continual war for dominance: eat or be eaten seems to be Nature's order when we look at plants as well as certain animals which only serve as food for other animals, who, themselves, succumb to the destructive presence of human beings. Humanity, in turn, while exploiting its own members and draining its natural habitat of resources falls prey to some kind of disease, or disaster.
When we remove the veil of ignorance and behold the harsh reality we live in, we might start to question the idea that, "This world is the successful work of an all-wise, all-good, all-powerful being." For Schopenhauer's view of the world is one of agony, devoid of divine grace, and it has much more in common with a penal colony than with the creation of a benevolent deity.
Now, seeing the world as a prison sounds like a recipe for personal misery. Why not adopt a more positive, more hopeful perspective? Why look at it
... keep reading on reddit ➡Alot of great jokes get posted here! However just because you have a joke, doesn't mean it's a dad joke.
THIS IS NOT ABOUT NSFW, THIS IS ABOUT LONG JOKES, BLONDE JOKES, SEXUAL JOKES, KNOCK KNOCK JOKES, POLITICAL JOKES, ETC BEING POSTED IN A DAD JOKE SUB
Try telling these sexual jokes that get posted here, to your kid and see how your spouse likes it.. if that goes well, Try telling one of your friends kid about your sex life being like Coca cola, first it was normal, than light and now zero , and see if the parents are OK with you telling their kid the "dad joke"
I'm not even referencing the NSFW, I'm saying Dad jokes are corny, and sometimes painful, not sexual
So check out r/jokes for all types of jokes
r/unclejokes for dirty jokes
r/3amjokes for real weird and alot of OC
r/cleandadjokes If your really sick of seeing not dad jokes in r/dadjokes
Punchline !
Edit: this is not a post about NSFW , This is about jokes, knock knock jokes, blonde jokes, political jokes etc being posted in a dad joke sub
Edit 2: don't touch the thermostat
Do your worst!
How the hell am I suppose to know when it’s raining in Sweden?
Ants don’t even have the concept fathers, let alone a good dad joke. Keep r/ants out of my r/dadjokes.
But no, seriously. I understand rule 7 is great to have intelligent discussion, but sometimes it feels like 1 in 10 posts here is someone getting upset about the jokes on this sub. Let the mods deal with it, they regulate the sub.
They were cooked in Greece.
I'm surprised it hasn't decade.
Now that I listen to albums, I hardly ever leave the house.
Don't you know a good pun is its own reword?
Two muffins are in an oven, one muffin looks at the other and says "is it just me, or is it hot in here?"
Then the other muffin says "AHH, TALKING MUFFIN!!!"
For context I'm a Refuse Driver (Garbage man) & today I was on food waste. After I'd tipped I was checking the wagon for any defects when I spotted a lone pea balanced on the lifts.
I said "hey look, an escaPEA"
No one near me but it didn't half make me laugh for a good hour or so!
Edit: I can't believe how much this has blown up. Thank you everyone I've had a blast reading through the replies 😂
It really does, I swear!
When from out of my grandfather’s room—our home’s guest room—came a shout, and a sound as of many heavy objects falling over, I ran up the stairs and burst in the room, to find him sprawled out on the floor; surrounded by the old, ponderous tomes he often reads for hours on end. I quickly went over and helped him up, and set him carefully at his desk, and gathered several of the dusty volumes in a tidy pile on the floor; not wanting to return them to the desk, only to be knocked over again.
I asked what happened, and he said that he saw something “abominable” in “it”. When I asked what “it” was, he looked gravely to his left—my right—and I saw, sitting upon the topmost shelf of a nearby case, a strange object; held in a golden cradle that resembled in shape a bird’s clenched claw; scaled to the size of a human hand—or that of a very large and undoubtedly extinct avian creature.
The object was an orb, a mistily blue sphere I’d never seen before. I was immediately drawn to it, and stepping absentmindedly over some books I’d missed, I approached the shelf and reached out toward the softly luminous artifact. But before my fingers could touch its alluringly glassy surface, my grandfather shouted out, “No!”, with the fervor of one who has, through sudden conviction, regained a long-depleted vitality.
Turning, I met the gaze of his fierce eyes, and saw in their oddly brilliant greenness a fear, a terror, more potent and foreboding than anything I’d ever seen before. Trembling, my grandfather beckoned me toward him, away from the strange orb, and I complied; accidentally knocking over the books I had effortlessly, mindlessly avoided when guided by the orb’s sorcerously magnetic pull.
“You mustn’t touch it. You mustn’t even gaze into it. Very few can ponder the orb and afterwards keep their sanity...or their lives.”
His voice was uncharacteristically solemn, intoned with a funeral seriousness that actually unsettled me. Ordinarily, my grandfather is a cheerful man; admittedly eccentric in regards to his interests in the arcane and mystical knowledges and “arts”, but always having a friendly disposition. But at that moment, half-shadowed by the darkness beyond the scope of his bedside lamp, he appeared both distraught and disquietingly cryptic.
I asked how he’d come into possession of the orb, and if it were so dangerous, why he’d been staring into it; and he responded with a wave of a hand, a short cough, and a dismissive shake of his head: a
... keep reading on reddit ➡And now I’m cannelloni
I can't get it out of my head.
The jaws.
The brilliant whiteness.
I know the police said everything collapsed because of all the snow on the roof, but I was there. I saw it, and it damn well wasn't just snow. It was what the snow had become, coming down, sweeping in, hour after hour
in what the weather lady had said was the blizzard of the century.
Of course, it happened the day of my twelve-hour shift, and, "We can't close the pharmacy, now can we?" my boss had said, no doubt from the warmth of his living room while I stood outside, sweating after already having cleared the driveway, watching it turn white again while we talked. "Think of all those people who need necessities. Water, diapers, potato chips," he encouraged me. "We need to stay open for them. We're like a hospital."
One definite strike against me: I lived nearby.
I didn’t say anything. "Maybe we can let you end a little early,” he suggested, to fill the ensuing silence. “How's half an hour sound?"
Spending eleven and a half hours alone at work on the day of the blizzard of the century did not sound good. "Fine," I said, realizing strike two: I was a pushover.
"Fantastic.”
A plow drove by, dumping snow back onto the driveway. Fuck…
Then I dropped my phone in the snow.
Fuck!
After clearing a path to the street, I got into my dad's truck and checked my phone. Some moisture had gotten in behind the camera lens, but the phone itself still worked.
I reversed out of the driveway and rolled along my usual route to work, albeit this morning through whiteout conditions dotted by the occasional car: stuck in the snow, fish-tailed onto the unplowed shoulder, sitting empty in front of houses where other people were spending their unexpected days off…
I arrived slowly but without incident.
The pharmacy where I worked, Quint's Rx, was one of about fifty stores enclosing a big square parking lot, which together with the stores made up our local Amityhill Mall.
It was nothing special ("the mall") and no less so today, except for its eerie and vast emptiness. Not that I had expected anything else. Only madmen and retail workers could be expected to brave today's roads to get to the fucking mall.
I parked, shielded my face with my arm and crossed from the truck to the pharmacy's entrance, where I fiddled using freezing fingers with the lock and key until I heard the satisfying click, and I was in.
At least the interior was cozy, and after I'd shut the door behind me—qui
... keep reading on reddit ➡I can't get it out of my head.
The jaws.
The brilliant whiteness.
I know the police said everything collapsed because of all the snow on the roof, but I was there. I saw it, and it damn well wasn't just snow. It was what the snow had become, coming down, sweeping in, hour after hour
in what the weather lady had said was the blizzard of the century.
Of course, it happened the day of my twelve-hour shift, and, "We can't close the pharmacy, now can we?" my boss had said, no doubt from the warmth of his living room while I stood outside, sweating after already having cleared the driveway, watching it turn white again while we talked. "Think of all those people who need necessities. Water, diapers, potato chips," he encouraged me. "We need to stay open for them. We're like a hospital."
One definite strike against me: I lived nearby.
I didn’t say anything. "Maybe we can let you end a little early,” he suggested, to fill the ensuing silence. “How's half an hour sound?"
Spending eleven and a half hours alone at work on the day of the blizzard of the century did not sound good. "Fine," I said, realizing strike two: I was a pushover.
"Fantastic.”
A plow drove by, dumping snow back onto the driveway. Fuck…
Then I dropped my phone in the snow.
Fuck!
After clearing a path to the street, I got into my dad's truck and checked my phone. Some moisture had gotten in behind the camera lens, but the phone itself still worked.
I reversed out of the driveway and rolled along my usual route to work, albeit this morning through whiteout conditions dotted by the occasional car: stuck in the snow, fish-tailed onto the unplowed shoulder, sitting empty in front of houses where other people were spending their unexpected days off…
I arrived slowly but without incident.
The pharmacy where I worked, Quint's Rx, was one of about fifty stores enclosing a big square parking lot, which together with the stores made up our local Amityhill Mall.
It was nothing special ("the mall") and no less so today, except for its eerie and vast emptiness. Not that I had expected anything else. Only madmen and retail workers could be expected to brave today's roads to get to the fucking mall.
I parked, shielded my face with my arm and crossed from the truck to the pharmacy's entrance, where I fiddled using freezing fingers with the lock and key until I heard the satisfying click, and I was in.
At least the interior was cozy, and after I'd shut the door behind me—qui
... keep reading on reddit ➡I can't get it out of my head.
The jaws.
The brilliant whiteness.
I know the police said everything collapsed because of all the snow on the roof, but I was there. I saw it, and it damn well wasn't just snow. It was what the snow had become, coming down, sweeping in, hour after hour
in what the weather lady had said was the blizzard of the century.
Of course, it happened the day of my twelve-hour shift, and, "We can't close the pharmacy, now can we?" my boss had said, no doubt from the warmth of his living room while I stood outside, sweating after already having cleared the driveway, watching it turn white again while we talked. "Think of all those people who need necessities. Water, diapers, potato chips," he encouraged me. "We need to stay open for them. We're like a hospital."
One definite strike against me: I lived nearby.
I didn’t say anything. "Maybe we can let you end a little early,” he suggested, to fill the ensuing silence. “How's half an hour sound?"
Spending eleven and a half hours alone at work on the day of the blizzard of the century did not sound good. "Fine," I said, realizing strike two: I was a pushover.
"Fantastic.”
A plow drove by, dumping snow back onto the driveway. Fuck…
Then I dropped my phone in the snow.
Fuck!
After clearing a path to the street, I got into my dad's truck and checked my phone. Some moisture had gotten in behind the camera lens, but the phone itself still worked.
I reversed out of the driveway and rolled along my usual route to work, albeit this morning through whiteout conditions dotted by the occasional car: stuck in the snow, fish-tailed onto the unplowed shoulder, sitting empty in front of houses where other people were spending their unexpected days off…
I arrived slowly but without incident.
The pharmacy where I worked, Quint's Rx, was one of about fifty stores enclosing a big square parking lot, which together with the stores made up our local Amityhill Mall.
It was nothing special ("the mall") and no less so today, except for its eerie and vast emptiness. Not that I had expected anything else. Only madmen and retail workers could be expected to brave today's roads to get to the fucking mall.
I parked, shielded my face with my arm and crossed from the truck to the pharmacy's entrance, where I fiddled using freezing fingers with the lock and key until I heard the satisfying click, and I was in.
At least the interior was cozy, and after I'd shut the door behind me—qui
... keep reading on reddit ➡I can't get it out of my head.
The jaws.
The brilliant whiteness.
I know the police said everything collapsed because of all the snow on the roof, but I was there. I saw it, and it damn well wasn't just snow. It was what the snow had become, coming down, sweeping in, hour after hour
in what the weather lady had said was the blizzard of the century.
Of course, it happened the day of my twelve-hour shift, and, "We can't close the pharmacy, now can we?" my boss had said, no doubt from the warmth of his living room while I stood outside, sweating after already having cleared the driveway, watching it turn white again while we talked. "Think of all those people who need necessities. Water, diapers, potato chips," he encouraged me. "We need to stay open for them. We're like a hospital."
One definite strike against me: I lived nearby.
I didn’t say anything. "Maybe we can let you end a little early,” he suggested, to fill the ensuing silence. “How's half an hour sound?"
Spending eleven and a half hours alone at work on the day of the blizzard of the century did not sound good. "Fine," I said, realizing strike two: I was a pushover.
"Fantastic.”
A plow drove by, dumping snow back onto the driveway. Fuck…
Then I dropped my phone in the snow.
Fuck!
After clearing a path to the street, I got into my dad's truck and checked my phone. Some moisture had gotten in behind the camera lens, but the phone itself still worked.
I reversed out of the driveway and rolled along my usual route to work, albeit this morning through whiteout conditions dotted by the occasional car: stuck in the snow, fish-tailed onto the unplowed shoulder, sitting empty in front of houses where other people were spending their unexpected days off…
I arrived slowly but without incident.
The pharmacy where I worked, Quint's Rx, was one of about fifty stores enclosing a big square parking lot, which together with the stores made up our local Amityhill Mall.
It was nothing special ("the mall") and no less so today, except for its eerie and vast emptiness. Not that I had expected anything else. Only madmen and retail workers could be expected to brave today's roads to get to the fucking mall.
I parked, shielded my face with my arm and crossed from the truck to the pharmacy's entrance, where I fiddled using freezing fingers with the lock and key until I heard the satisfying click, and I was in.
At least the interior was cozy, and after I'd shut the door behind me—qui
... keep reading on reddit ➡I can't get it out of my head.
The jaws.
The brilliant whiteness.
I know the police said everything collapsed because of all the snow on the roof, but I was there. I saw it, and it damn well wasn't just snow. It was what the snow had become, coming down, sweeping in, hour after hour
in what the weather lady had said was the blizzard of the century.
Of course, it happened the day of my twelve-hour shift, and, "We can't close the pharmacy, now can we?" my boss had said, no doubt from the warmth of his living room while I stood outside, sweating after already having cleared the driveway, watching it turn white again while we talked. "Think of all those people who need necessities. Water, diapers, potato chips," he encouraged me. "We need to stay open for them. We're like a hospital."
One definite strike against me: I lived nearby.
I didn’t say anything. "Maybe we can let you end a little early,” he suggested, to fill the ensuing silence. “How's half an hour sound?"
Spending eleven and a half hours alone at work on the day of the blizzard of the century did not sound good. "Fine," I said, realizing strike two: I was a pushover.
"Fantastic.”
A plow drove by, dumping snow back onto the driveway. Fuck…
Then I dropped my phone in the snow.
Fuck!
After clearing a path to the street, I got into my dad's truck and checked my phone. Some moisture had gotten in behind the camera lens, but the phone itself still worked.
I reversed out of the driveway and rolled along my usual route to work, albeit this morning through whiteout conditions dotted by the occasional car: stuck in the snow, fish-tailed onto the unplowed shoulder, sitting empty in front of houses where other people were spending their unexpected days off…
I arrived slowly but without incident.
The pharmacy where I worked, Quint's Rx, was one of about fifty stores enclosing a big square parking lot, which together with the stores made up our local Amityhill Mall.
It was nothing special ("the mall") and no less so today, except for its eerie and vast emptiness. Not that I had expected anything else. Only madmen and retail workers could be expected to brave today's roads to get to the fucking mall.
I parked, shielded my face with my arm and crossed from the truck to the pharmacy's entrance, where I fiddled using freezing fingers with the lock and key until I heard the satisfying click, and I was in.
At least the interior was cozy, and after I'd shut the door behind me—qui
... keep reading on reddit ➡I can't get it out of my head.
The jaws.
The brilliant whiteness.
I know the police said everything collapsed because of all the snow on the roof, but I was there. I saw it, and it damn well wasn't just snow. It was what the snow had become, coming down, sweeping in, hour after hour
in what the weather lady had said was the blizzard of the century.
Of course, it happened the day of my twelve-hour shift, and, "We can't close the pharmacy, now can we?" my boss had said, no doubt from the warmth of his living room while I stood outside, sweating after already having cleared the driveway, watching it turn white again while we talked. "Think of all those people who need necessities. Water, diapers, potato chips," he encouraged me. "We need to stay open for them. We're like a hospital."
One definite strike against me: I lived nearby.
I didn’t say anything. "Maybe we can let you end a little early,” he suggested, to fill the ensuing silence. “How's half an hour sound?"
Spending eleven and a half hours alone at work on the day of the blizzard of the century did not sound good. "Fine," I said, realizing strike two: I was a pushover.
"Fantastic.”
A plow drove by, dumping snow back onto the driveway. Fuck…
Then I dropped my phone in the snow.
Fuck!
After clearing a path to the street, I got into my dad's truck and checked my phone. Some moisture had gotten in behind the camera lens, but the phone itself still worked.
I reversed out of the driveway and rolled along my usual route to work, albeit this morning through whiteout conditions dotted by the occasional car: stuck in the snow, fish-tailed onto the unplowed shoulder, sitting empty in front of houses where other people were spending their unexpected days off…
I arrived slowly but without incident.
The pharmacy where I worked, Quint's Rx, was one of about fifty stores enclosing a big square parking lot, which together with the stores made up our local Amityhill Mall.
It was nothing special ("the mall") and no less so today, except for its eerie and vast emptiness. Not that I had expected anything else. Only madmen and retail workers could be expected to brave today's roads to get to the fucking mall.
I parked, shielded my face with my arm and crossed from the truck to the pharmacy's entrance, where I fiddled using freezing fingers with the lock and key until I heard the satisfying click, and I was in.
At least the interior was cozy, and after I'd shut the door behind me—qui
... keep reading on reddit ➡I can't get it out of my head.
The jaws.
The brilliant whiteness.
I know the police said everything collapsed because of all the snow on the roof, but I was there. I saw it, and it damn well wasn't just snow. It was what the snow had become, coming down, sweeping in, hour after hour
in what the weather lady had said was the blizzard of the century.
Of course, it happened the day of my twelve-hour shift, and, "We can't close the pharmacy, now can we?" my boss had said, no doubt from the warmth of his living room while I stood outside, sweating after already having cleared the driveway, watching it turn white again while we talked. "Think of all those people who need necessities. Water, diapers, potato chips," he encouraged me. "We need to stay open for them. We're like a hospital."
One definite strike against me: I lived nearby.
I didn’t say anything. "Maybe we can let you end a little early,” he suggested, to fill the ensuing silence. “How's half an hour sound?"
Spending eleven and a half hours alone at work on the day of the blizzard of the century did not sound good. "Fine," I said, realizing strike two: I was a pushover.
"Fantastic.”
A plow drove by, dumping snow back onto the driveway. Fuck…
Then I dropped my phone in the snow.
Fuck!
After clearing a path to the street, I got into my dad's truck and checked my phone. Some moisture had gotten in behind the camera lens, but the phone itself still worked.
I reversed out of the driveway and rolled along my usual route to work, albeit this morning through whiteout conditions dotted by the occasional car: stuck in the snow, fish-tailed onto the unplowed shoulder, sitting empty in front of houses where other people were spending their unexpected days off…
I arrived slowly but without incident.
The pharmacy where I worked, Quint's Rx, was one of about fifty stores enclosing a big square parking lot, which together with the stores made up our local Amityhill Mall.
It was nothing special ("the mall") and no less so today, except for its eerie and vast emptiness. Not that I had expected anything else. Only madmen and retail workers could be expected to brave today's roads to get to the fucking mall.
I parked, shielded my face with my arm and crossed from the truck to the pharmacy's entrance, where I fiddled using freezing fingers with the lock and key until I heard the satisfying click, and I was in.
At least the interior was cozy, and after I'd shut the door behind me—qui
... keep reading on reddit ➡I can't get it out of my head.
The jaws.
The brilliant whiteness.
I know the police said everything collapsed because of all the snow on the roof, but I was there. I saw it, and it damn well wasn't just snow. It was what the snow had become, coming down, sweeping in, hour after hour
in what the weather lady had said was the blizzard of the century.
Of course, it happened the day of my twelve-hour shift, and, "We can't close the pharmacy, now can we?" my boss had said, no doubt from the warmth of his living room while I stood outside, sweating after already having cleared the driveway, watching it turn white again while we talked. "Think of all those people who need necessities. Water, diapers, potato chips," he encouraged me. "We need to stay open for them. We're like a hospital."
One definite strike against me: I lived nearby.
I didn’t say anything. "Maybe we can let you end a little early,” he suggested, to fill the ensuing silence. “How's half an hour sound?"
Spending eleven and a half hours alone at work on the day of the blizzard of the century did not sound good. "Fine," I said, realizing strike two: I was a pushover.
"Fantastic.”
A plow drove by, dumping snow back onto the driveway. Fuck…
Then I dropped my phone in the snow.
Fuck!
After clearing a path to the street, I got into my dad's truck and checked my phone. Some moisture had gotten in behind the camera lens, but the phone itself still worked.
I reversed out of the driveway and rolled along my usual route to work, albeit this morning through whiteout conditions dotted by the occasional car: stuck in the snow, fish-tailed onto the unplowed shoulder, sitting empty in front of houses where other people were spending their unexpected days off…
I arrived slowly but without incident.
The pharmacy where I worked, Quint's Rx, was one of about fifty stores enclosing a big square parking lot, which together with the stores made up our local Amityhill Mall.
It was nothing special ("the mall") and no less so today, except for its eerie and vast emptiness. Not that I had expected anything else. Only madmen and retail workers could be expected to brave today's roads to get to the fucking mall.
I parked, shielded my face with my arm and crossed from the truck to the pharmacy's entrance, where I fiddled using freezing fingers with the lock and key until I heard the satisfying click, and I was in.
At least the interior was cozy, and after I'd shut the door behind me—qui
... keep reading on reddit ➡I can't get it out of my head.
The jaws.
The brilliant whiteness.
I know the police said everything collapsed because of all the snow on the roof, but I was there. I saw it, and it damn well wasn't just snow. It was what the snow had become, coming down, sweeping in, hour after hour
in what the weather lady had said was the blizzard of the century.
Of course, it happened the day of my twelve-hour shift, and, "We can't close the pharmacy, now can we?" my boss had said, no doubt from the warmth of his living room while I stood outside, sweating after already having cleared the driveway, watching it turn white again while we talked. "Think of all those people who need necessities. Water, diapers, potato chips," he encouraged me. "We need to stay open for them. We're like a hospital."
One definite strike against me: I lived nearby.
I didn’t say anything. "Maybe we can let you end a little early,” he suggested, to fill the ensuing silence. “How's half an hour sound?"
Spending eleven and a half hours alone at work on the day of the blizzard of the century did not sound good. "Fine," I said, realizing strike two: I was a pushover.
"Fantastic.”
A plow drove by, dumping snow back onto the driveway. Fuck…
Then I dropped my phone in the snow.
Fuck!
After clearing a path to the street, I got into my dad's truck and checked my phone. Some moisture had gotten in behind the camera lens, but the phone itself still worked.
I reversed out of the driveway and rolled along my usual route to work, albeit this morning through whiteout conditions dotted by the occasional car: stuck in the snow, fish-tailed onto the unplowed shoulder, sitting empty in front of houses where other people were spending their unexpected days off…
I arrived slowly but without incident.
The pharmacy where I worked, Quint's Rx, was one of about fifty stores enclosing a big square parking lot, which together with the stores made up our local Amityhill Mall.
It was nothing special ("the mall") and no less so today, except for its eerie and vast emptiness. Not that I had expected anything else. Only madmen and retail workers could be expected to brave today's roads to get to the fucking mall.
I parked, shielded my face with my arm and crossed from the truck to the pharmacy's entrance, where I fiddled using freezing fingers with the lock and key until I heard the satisfying click, and I was in.
At least the interior was cozy, and after I'd shut the door behind me—qui
... keep reading on reddit ➡
