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moon is the oldest TV

slow fiction : ȃ̵̲͖̍̕n̸̙̍ä̶͓͈͉̹͉͍̫́l̷̘̣̦̟͆͊͋̏̎̌̅̆o̶̗͓̫͍͍̰̗͌̊́̄̈́̓̕͜͜g̷͇͓̿̉̒̈̕͠͠ͅ ̷̧̗̻͚͎̳̤̪̣̈́̓̑̓̈́̀ ̵̨̡̞͓̦̙̝̲̱͎͗͠ ̶̡̰̳̟͉͙̯͇̯̇͂̐̍̈r̸̥͈͍̣̬̍̆̈̚͜a̷͉̭̙̬̻͎̠̐͐̍̏̋̉̈̅͠d̶̛͚͇̓̔̽̽̚͠i̶̘̰͈͓̞̾͊̈́ǫ̷̥͊͐̋

[they discovered a roman aqueduct in the middle of the rainforest in ecuador]

TV buddha needs ⓡⓔⓜⓞⓣⓔ

eleKtronic superhighways : throttling lane closures every midnight-5 a.m.

[here’s an idea: meet ugly]

“I’ve always wanted to be the unreal deal.”
– Paul Pemulius [byline unknown; person does not exist]

(this is a song with no words
no one can hear the missing

Some months after December, 1989 a German team of law enforcement experts, prosecutors, and forensic scientists looking for Juan Weider came upon a Roman aqueduct in the rainforest of Ecuador. It was a puzzling discovery, given that side of the world and absolutely no historical accounts of Roman colonization of South Ameriʞʞʞa. Everything about the disappearance of Juan Weider was puzzling, including its resolution. Or, non-resolution. But there, among the horrors of the discovery of Weider’s work over all the years he had been missing, stood this magnificent relic built by a civilization that had never before been thought to have reached that part of the world. There was no doubt that the aqueduct was Roman, so the mystery of its existence was further cemented. The structure was engineered with the typical arches, allowing for large-span coverage. It was made from new materials, like concrete and waterproof cement, which could ignore unfavorable land features and draw the water along the straightest possible route along a regular gradient. Another innovation that allowed for this structure to traverse valleys, for example, was the large-scale inverted siphon. These were made from clay or several lead pipes reinforced with stone blocks. The force of gravity and pressure as the water ran down the valley created momentum, which would drive the water up the opposite side. The arched bridges running across the valley floor would lessen the height the water had to fall, and more importantly, run up on its ascent. Further evidence of its Roman engineering were stopcocks to manage pressure and regulate the water flow, as well as storage reservoirs, settling tanks to extract sediment, and mesh filters at outlets. Also present was a system for small cascades. This was used to “freshen water” by aerating it.

Kurt Schrimm (prosecutor, Berlin)

“Interesting thing: the Roman aqueducts were protected by law. No agricultural activity was to exist near an aqueduct in case of damage by ploughing or root growth.”

Uwe Blab (detective, Berlin)

“But on the other hand, agriculture benefited from aqueducts, as in many cases, running off channels were created to provide water for land irrigation. So you see . . . “

(this is a song with no words
no one can hear the missing

Six

i call the kid and wake her up
happy birthday kid
yea thanks dad she says
then goes into a long monologue about the phases of the moon
to[-]day on her birthday it’s a quarter full
and in two weeks it’ll be all the way full she says
and every once in a while it’s blue right?
yea that’s a good one dad she says

{imagine: 3}

. . . continued

We found him, well, the dogs first found him. But you get it. Anyway we . . . the dogs first found him after six days of being buried in the rubble. We yelled out into that putrid, hollow, darkness that smelled like benzene and railroad, if that makes any sense. Railroad I mean, like . . . carbon or . . . maybe it was lithium and brine. We yelled: WHO ARE YOU? over and over. At that time there were lists of people, of residents of the buildings that had collapsed . . . the government had provided lists of all the families living in the apartments. I guess everyone, every citizen had been registered with the government. And we were checking, even after so many days, we were checking for survivors. And checking off the names. We found no one else alive in all of that except him. The dogs scratched at the detritus with their paws, and we had to hold them back. The dogs were going about it furiously. It took all we had to hold the animals back. I think the dogs, maybe . . . the dogs were . . . it seemed the dogs were even more excited about finding a person alive in the rubble of the building. More than us. It had been six days, like I said. Later we were told that he survived likely because he was on the highest floor and probably the percentages of him being crushed by the rebar were lower than the others living on lower floors. And he had a shorter distance to fall on the already collapsed base of the apartment building and other floors above it. I think of it like an accordion turned sideways. Paul Pemulius was on the top side of the bellows, as the accordion is pushed closed. Still, he was wedged in so tightly that we couldn’t believe there was air in there. Enough to breathe for six days and still hang on. I think he was trying to scream back at us. All he did was groan and mumble. But I think he was trying to yell back his name. We had with us a listening device, which also recorded live the sound as we were hearing it. We had used it at other collapsed sites to listen for anything that might’ve indicated that someone was still alive. You know, screams, moans, groans, even heavy breathing it could pick up. It recorded everything for posterity. Here’s Paul’s recording:

Ĭ̵̢̹͕̏̐̈̌̈́̈́͐̕͝’̵̛͕̺̯̈̿̿m̴̪͓̯̩̟͉̠̆ ̶̡̭̰̗̟͙̞̏͂̕r̶̨̘̪̺͎̳̯̘̗̔̎͋̕ḭ̷̧̺̳̮̯́̽̀̀͆͠g̷̔͂̌̿ͅḧ̴̦̱̰͐̿͒̿́̀t̷̲̣̓̄̓͌̀̔̌͛̚ ̵͚̊͆̏̾̈́͑̽͠h̷̡̢̙̦̯̼͉͇͇́͒̊̋̈́̕ͅë̵̢̛̳̹̠̮̲̃̓̅͛̒͠͝r̸͖̘̦̮̀͊̈́̈̑̚͜e̷̛̘̽̓̿̃̀͛̈̕!̷̢̛̻̫̜̫̩̹̺ ̴̳̺͙̻͚͎̯̯̺̅̇͋̿̈̕̕͝͝͝I̸̡̠̲͍͍͒̏͐̃̊́̐̅͌̾ͅ’̶͖̠̣̜̈́͒͆̌̋͑̈̕ṁ̷͇̳͇̾͌̇͛̆̈́̔͑ ̶̫͕̃̒͛̋r̵̘͂͌i̴͔͎͕̻̣̱̼͚̘͛͒̑͊͗̌͌́̃g̵̬̻̝̫͂̏̃͐̓̿͆͋h̵̢̡͇̣̺̤̖͕͛̆̔͜t̸̢̥̹̼̦͕͔̭͂̍̓̏́̀̾̀̇̊ ̵̛̲͊̂̉̊̈h̷̨̨̛̼̯̘͕̩̃͝ḙ̵͖̳͇̰̟́͐̓͂ŕ̵̨̛͓̙̩͎̖̾̊̂͗͘͠ȇ̵͖̳͈̫̚!̸̭̠͒̎̌͐ ̶̢͈̀̀̇́͒͐̑͌͘͝I̸̬͆̃̋’̶̛̙̱̒́̈́̎̃̇̃̑̚m̴͍̈́̅͗̌̒͂͂͊̄ ̶̙̉͋͊̄͛̕͝r̵̬͌̓͗̂͌̄̓̓͘̕i̷̼͚̘͔͓͖̦̓̄̂́̽̄͋̉g̷̬̝̪͖͙͖̬͙̮̈͜͠h̶̡̧̰̲̟̻̦͙̀̑͝ṯ̷̨̡͕̦̳̻̯̇̋̆͊̓̑ ̷̻͔̝̽͛͂̋̆̇̔̈h̵̖̙͋̇̋͘͝e̴̜̘̟͛̈́̈́͐̋͊̏͝ȓ̶̢̢̫̺̇̂͜ͅe̷̼͎̻͇̰̘̩͗̽!̸̢̡̘̇̾̚ͅ ̸̡̧͍̤͉͚̟͈̓̉̈́̆̀͐I̴̬̺͕̠̻͖̻̤̐̂’̴̣̓̏̆̑͒̀̉͘m̶̤͔̥͕͖̩̔͗ ̵̧̨̞̤͉͎̥̗̹́̓̆̽͋́͑̍̕r̷̨̢͉͖͓͙͂̅̅ͅi̵̛͈͇͓͉͉͉̞̺͌̽̓̋̒͛̀̌g̶̛̙̘̰̑̏̔̓ḧ̷̙͈̱̥́̽̈́̄t̷̮̟̰̳̫̺̞͖̦͇͋͠ ̷̧͍͙͈̹̰͖̥̰̠̎̋́̄̋̓͘͝h̵̥̞͎͎̥͈͍͚̾̽e̷͍͇̼͓͕̫̥̽͋ͅṙ̴̞̙̈́̌͝͝͠ȩ̶̫̹͙̪͚̿̂͜!̵͚̥̱̙̲̘̈́ ̵̖̱͚̬̹̬̟̖̺̭̒̅̃͛̎̕͘I̶̟͍̒̈̄̈́͠’̴̝̜̱̝̮̺̜̳͂̑m̵̡̯̫̭̤̄̍͋͆̃̌ ̵͍̘͌̈́̎́̈̆̕͝r̸͇̥͍̭͖̗͙̮̻̫̿ì̷͖͇̙̜̝̍͂̉̍̇̄͒̅͆g̴͙̽h̴͎̺̜̆̄ţ̴͈̭̹̋̐̍̾̅̇́̓̋ ̷̨͓̲͔̳̗̥̻͐͛̀ͅh̵͇̻̙̲̫̗̳͍̫̔̔͌̊̓͆͌ẽ̶͈̬̣̈́́͊́́̈́͆͠͝r̶̢͈͎̤̭͖̯̲̰̈́͆̃͗͊͒͌͊͠ĕ̴̛̖̺͐̑͊̒̿!̷͍̰̻̀̂̄͘ ̸̖̭͊̓̀̍͊͆̎I̵̧̢̖̍̕’̵̰̣̐͛͛̿̈́̿́m̸̡̛̔̈́̈͂͌̽̌̓ ̴̮̱̮̘͓̆̀͜r̴̼̙̱͈̈́̕i̴̢̢̙̜̹̲͖̯̘̊̈g̵̛̗̲̎̌̈́̅̍͒͠͠h̷̢̯̼̋̎͂̈́̍̄͠t̸̙̼͎̝̳̳̫̫̄̄̃̏̓͜ͅ ̵̨̻͇̩͚̈́̓̓̓̽̂͆h̷̡̲̦͆̅̇̀̈́͋͘͜e̷̡͇̩̪͊̔̉͛̔͝͝ŗ̵̢͕̙̯͛́̃̽͆̊̔̀̈́͝ḛ̴̌́!̶̡̟̣͚̠̞̲͖́́̈͑̃̆̎̾ ̴̦̼̜̼͙̻͍̹̹̃̓͂̉́̐͋̂̐̈I̸͎͍̠͈̺̫͇̫͎̠͒’̸̧̢̥̹̣̪͍͚̖̥̀̀͐͛͒̒͠m̴̫̩̳̿̓̔͂̅̀͠ ̸͎̭̈́̊̑͛͑̔͛r̴̡̲͙͔̹̫̺̠͎̃̿̀͋̃i̶̢̧͔͚̯̹̍̐ͅĝ̴̭͕̓͗̀̃͆h̶̰̬̭͎̬͙̤͖́̀̌̊t̸̬̺͑ ̴͍͌͑̊͑̕h̶̨̞̦̠̍̍ͅẽ̵͕́̓͌͛̍ṙ̸͕̮̙̖̗͋͋̀ḛ̴͓͐́̾̀͒̈́́͂̕͠!̵̡̜̦͈͙͓̬́̅͋͗͘Ì̷̡̺̯͓͖̹̪̏̆̌’̴̰̰̣̘͙̩͖̳̙̉͊̊̽͜͝m̷͎̄̀̓̇̃̀̋̈́͝͝ ̴͖̝͇̖̈͒̒͑̓̓̾͘͝r̵̫̭̘̝͑̿͒̀͜͜ì̴͉͕͈͙͈̘͈̰̓g̶̛̠̖͕͈̜̹̾͊̅̆͐̇ḧ̷̟͚̰͔́̾́̓̅͘t̷̡̲͉̩̖̺̹͜͠ ̶͈̆h̴̨͕̼̪̦̝͈̥͔͂̈́̇̋̅̽̕e̵͓͕̯̽͂͜r̷͖͍̹̤̖̗̼͕͒̇͐͆̍̆̉̃̈̚e̴̩͌̎͐̒́!̴̛͕̆̑̈́͛̕͝ ̸̼͚̖̬̣̱͈͇̃̾͌̿I̷̡̡̺̝̯̙̞͆͌͒’̷̭̣̈́́̍̏͘̕m̴̢̗̘̘̫̆̋̾̋̀̃̀̀̚͘͜ ̷͚͜͝r̶̖͇̣̃̒i̵͕̾̀̄̔͛͠ģ̶̯̱̦̥̔͂̅̂̌̅̕͝ḫ̸̺̣̩̰̦̊̉̃̕͝t̷̯̜̲͕̰̹̘̎̇̿̒̏́̀͠ ̷̡̧̛̻̻̖̤̙̖̘̐̅̏̓͠h̸̖̪͐̓e̸͔̘͋́̄̂̊̑̑̓̚͠r̵͔̫͕͇̎͛̔ḙ̴̣͇͙̭̖̯̺̀͛̓̒͐̎̓͝!̵̢̳̳̼̫͙̭͎̋̒͐̈́̌̽̓́͛ ̴̧̠͍̰͈͓͔͖͕̎́̈͝͠I̶̼̝͇͕̒͠’̴͔̖̎̔̕͠m̷̭͈̙̞̩͠ ̸̨̺̟̍ͅŕ̶̼͆į̶̧̢̹̜̌̑͂͘̚ğ̵̛͉̦͈̇͆͆̚h̶̹͊͐̽́̽̒͌̎̾t̴͈̘̣̃̉̄͂̊̓̉̏ ̵͎͛̿̓͌̉̆̇͝ͅh̷̨̢̛͎̝̱̰͇͕̰̔̒̅̍̊̃̓̅̕e̵͓̱̘̤̗̫͓͋́͜ȑ̴̡̼͎͓̰͕̳e̶̢̢̗̦͓̮͕͒̿̌̀͌̓́̐͑͜͠!̶̛͇͒́͒͑ͅ ̸̙͓̥̝̝̊̓̆͗́́͑̕I̸̧̨̝̪̲̫͆̓͋̍͑͛́̈́̾̕’̶̡͓̻͗̃͗̔̂̀͝m̶͕̑̆̅͋͑̌͠ ̵̤͋͑͜r̶̼̱̣̹͇̦̓̔́̐̄̑̊͑̿i̴̱͕̣̎̃̂̈̈̆͠g̷̨͔̼̦̺̻̺͌̃̓̿͊h̷̩͙͈̜͎͎̻͎͜͝t̷̟͉̜̽̍͐͒̓̋͝ ̶͎͛̓̈́̄͆̑̈́̊̌̍ͅḩ̶̲̱̤̦̬̜͖̺̀͆̈́̌͠e̵̛̫̻͓̯̅̃̊r̷̨̞͇̥̤̺̩͊̋̊̀̌͋͘͜e̸̯͚͇̘̗̱͆̎͗̈́̋͗̅͘͝͝!̷͈͇̺̙͉̗̩̣̲̉̆͑̃͋̓̒̂̂ ̶͉͙̖͓̲͕̈́̄̾͘͜Į̸͚̯͇͉̰͙͇̫͐͗̀̈̌̐̕͝’̷͕͇̿m̷̢̬̫͓͇̲̔̓̅̒̓̈́̕͝͝ ̴̙̣̱̏̂̈́r̸̖̮̣̕i̶̲̣̥̤̖̝̳͖͒̕g̵̛͚͉̬͙̮̓́̔͒̾̕h̷̪̠͙̰̫͑t̶̲͓̻͇̠̘͖̓̊̒̀̔̄̈́̀͝ ̶̧̭̹͕̬͖̣̳̥̘̊͋̕h̷̜̰̞̓̆̈͒̋͊͝ȩ̸̛͖͔̹̣̭̳͛̅̀͐͛̆͜͝ȓ̷̼̅̓̀̾̈́͝͠ẻ̴͙̫̱͙̙̪!̴̤̺͒̊̎́͊̈́͜ ̶̡̩̞̹̔̿̆͋͊̂Ị̸̳̩̤̠̐́̇̾̓̾̚’̴͓̯̏̋͊͊͛͝m̸̝͋̉̇̀̐̍͝ ̷̻̭̞̪̦͕̘͉̠̠̓̔̌̈̀͛́r̶̠͙̱̀͗̉̓͛̄į̸̧̻̩̤́̾͒̃g̵̻̭̥̮̝̦̓̀̈́̾͛̿ͅh̸̢̭̞̞̩̦̘̯̜̰̿͘t̸͓͎̭̟͓̬̜̭͓̋͆̐̋͊̉͛̚̕ ̶̨̼̮͙͓̥̄͂h̶̡̬͖̲̙͓̆̋̌̋̈͒̓͌̅ͅẽ̵̹̻̺̖̤͖̪̱̱̘͌̒̾͘̚͘͝͝r̶͖͕̈é̶̜͓͈͗̄̉͑̊̑͠!̶̧͓̭̮̻͚̪̹̭̰͗̃̒̿̽̈́̂͝͝ ̶̨̲͈̱̑̿̊̆̈́͌̈͜I̴̖̩̦̹̯̹̱̥͐̅͛̀͌͊̍͘͘’̷̨͇̺̜̦̰͑m̸͎̈́̇̑̎̈́͝ ̶̨̧̫̈́̑̍ȑ̶̛͎̖̮͚̣͂͆̂̑͋̀ͅi̷̡͇̜͖̝̣͓̤̍̽ͅg̵̛͚͇h̴̨̞̍̀̓̔̉͗̔̕͝ẗ̶̹̳̮͉̰̹́̾͜ ̷̨̧͙͇̦̫̲͖͖͕̐͠ḧ̵̢̰̯̪͓́̍̌̆̚é̴̺̩͙̝̬̗͚̝͚͑̉̎̇́̽̿͛͘r̶̨̜̠̼͉̭̐̍̿̿̎̐̃ȅ̵̡̨̱̱̺̠̫̏̌̒̽̈́̒̍̑!̸̛̝̲̫̤͎̣͚̣̭̅͌̋̑̎͛͗̚͘ͅ ̴͔̺͇̲̲͓̞̬͒̅͒̽Ḯ̶͖̝̺̙̘̯̮͕̱̫̄̑̒̋̓̈́̕͠’̴̛̬̗̘͍̘̮̪̞̯̈̎̓̐͆͌̅m̸̡̢̟̻̠̯̩̽̈́̚͜ͅͅ ̴̨̥̣̝̭̦̳̽̑́͝r̶̨̨̢̻̰͍̝͛͒̆̍͐͋̒͒̚i̸̛̳̜̇̎́̄͋̊͆͝g̴͔̟̖̻͉̫͛͆́̈͆̇̈͠h̵͎̪̑́̍̋͜͜͝͝t̵̳͗͂̀̃́̀̓̕ ̵͔̞̪̩̞͛h̷̢͑̌͋̍̾͐͂͋̍̀ḙ̷͉̟̓̑͂r̴͍̼̮̮͇̓̒̅͒̂̊̓ͅe̶͇̼̦͕͛̑̆̐̋̂̑̌͘!̸̡̼̩̳̝͂̔͜ ̸̟̮́͑̔I̸̖̮̗̝̅̔̃̀͊̑͂̕͝’̴̥̯̰̼̙̱͓̖̰̫͋̄͌̓͋͒͝m̸̢̧̛̘͉̯͍̳̽̊͐͌̏̋̈͌ ̶̺͕̙̊ṙ̶̛̺̋̆̒̈̒̽͘͝i̷̪̺̦̹̫̩̅g̵̢͍͉͕͈̝̝͗̑̄̂͠͝͠ḩ̷̧̞̭̤̥̗̣̫̽́̓̓͝ţ̷̗̱͍̈́̈́̋̉ ̸̲͔̣̦̐̈́͐̄̓́͜͜h̷̻̤͖̤͊̌̓͗̿̈́͝e̶̘̝̳̬̬͚̜͓̓̑̑͘̚ͅṛ̵͒͠e̴̡̙̟̱͉̤̪͖͎̅̊͗̕!̴̨̡̢̮̣̉͆͘ ̶̖̫̞̜̣̳̂̂̔̾͘I̵͚͆̽̽̌̃̋’̷̝́̅͊̓͊̔m̵̛̛̜̤͋̓͐̈́ ̴͈̪̤͓̰̠̄͌̔ṟ̷͐̐̓͗̄͝͝ĭ̶̧͕̞̦̏̈̆͌͋́̐͆́ġ̶̜̞̬̝̗͍̠̈́͒̊h̴͈̾̆ͅt̶̛͒̋́̈́̑͑̾ͅ ̷̛̠̦͍͓̫̽́̀͒ḧ̵̡͍͔̤͇̥̬̻́̀̊̽ȅ̷̡̼͇̏͊̇͜r̸̯͙̝̠͆̈́e̸̖̽̉̄͂̈́̓͑͐̎!̵̤̥̳̹͓͉̥͒͘ ̵̡̯̩͚̲̤̀̂͑̌͛̾̈̕Ì̸̘̤̪͉̆͗̕’̷̛̛̘͕̏͛̌͋͌̓m̷̘̻̋́̅̚͝͝ ̸̱̳͕̱̜̹͓̮͖̥͌̽̔̾r̷̨̛͍̥̘̣̊͑̏̀̉͐͠͝i̸͉͓̬̫̞͊̄̍͂̅̑̇̇̕g̴̯̲̾͋ḩ̸̫̪̟͋̏̽̔t̸͓̿̉̽̀͘ ̷̩̥͉̰̯̓̋̄̃̽͗͠ͅh̸̳̙͍̾͋́̽̋̽̚͘͠ē̵̛̗̊̍̍̽͝͠r̸̛͚̽̐͂͌̓̆̇̕e̴̯̖͍͎̬͕̭̦͗́̾͜!̶̤̭̊̐̏͋͆͌̽͘ ̷̟̞̟̞̳͔̮̞̇͊̄̈́̆̾͘̕͘͜͝Ì̶̳̫̤̝͕̦̺͇̈̅͂̕’̴̦͍̜̮͉̠̼͚̳̓̎̒͘m̶͕̽͂͂̈́̓ ̴̞͎̩͖͕̬̯̭̎͆͠ŗ̴̲̾̋̊̅̎̈́̀͠ĭ̶̡̡͕̥͙̯̯̅̔g̸̙͂̈́̆͊̃̒͋̄̕ḫ̶͙̜̼̅͗̒̓̓t̴͙̤̞̠̻̙̩̱̻͚̐͂͒ ̶͖̙͂̂̈́͒̽̽ḣ̷̨̟̪͕̭̜͜ͅe̸̛͓̔̾̽̐̇̍͌̌̅r̶̢̡͖̺̙̖͓̿̍̄̀̀̈́͂̄͜͝e̶̢͕̝̻͉͚̩̬̓!̸̝̦͕̲́͆̄̀́̓̚ ̶̖̤̦̮͓̹̱̫͙̅̈͐̓̎̌̊I̵̧̖͚͐’̸̘̝̹͖̻͙̪̖̹̓̐͒͝ͅm̷̰̠͛̉̃̃̂̕ͅ ̷̛̗̥͊͛̉̓r̸͓͇͗͛̇̀̒̾͌͝͝ͅį̵̦͔͖̬̬̗̈́̓͒͛ͅg̸̡̙̼̓̒́̓͑̓̔̎̔h̷̤͎͊͐͐t̷͈̻̖͑͛͊̅̽̕͝ ̸̝͉̻̻̈́̕h̶̡͍̭̩̰̫̝̆ę̵͍͎͔̙͈̺̅͘͜ŕ̸̬̳̼̳͕̲̈́̍͗͗ḙ̵̽̈́̐̏̃͊͑̒͝!̸̢̩̬͇̳̤͍̠̕ͅȊ̶̢̯̗̦̲̜̥̯̃̕͜͝͝’̵̫̪͉͍̲̿m̴͚̘̍̓̿̀̐̚ ̸̞͉͕̤͛̀͌͘͝r̵̪͔͉̣͉̭͇͇͖͖̈́̂͛i̶̯͉̲͒͝g̴̛̜̳̭̒͂̂̓͂͝ḧ̵͎̯͚̻̞́t̴̨̛̜̪̘̘̗̜͘ ̵͔͔̀ͅḩ̶͈̰̌̔̃͆͊͌̈̑̑͝ê̷̗͆̍́̿r̷̻͙̻̙̲̤̅́͌̐̿̈́̏̚̚͝ę̷̪̮̻̓!̴̞̬̦̭̟̱̺̺̤̒͊̍̾͐̓͆͠

It’s definitely something, as you can hear. He was definitely responding in whichever capacity he could. We were all sure of that. And the dogs went crazy every time he moaned. I’d never seen the dogs so determined to pull this boy out. They knew too that he was alive. They could smell the life, I’m sure of it. After that . . . the excavators came in. I mean, after we dislodged him. They brought in the heavy machines and cleaned up the site quickly. I don’t know why they so hastily removed all the concrete and steel. It’s almost like they were getting rid of evidence of a crime, even though it was the usual destruction in the wake of a 7.8 earthquake like that was. We were reassigned to another part of the city and never heard of Paul Pemulius ever again. Not that any one of us really was interested in keeping tabs on rescued victims. I just happened to find it odd that victims found alive were carted off quickly by ambulances. As if they were suspects or had perpetrated a crime of sorts. But this was another country. So they did to its citizens whatever they always did to its citizens, I suppose. We were there to search and rescue only. But there was one building that to this day still I can see. It was eight or nine stories. The way it collapsed, it looked like a giant Titan stepped in and swung down a sword the entire vertical length of the building. So that one half of it remained standing. That one half was the part of the building that housed all the bathrooms for the apartments. So they were all exposed, including the toilets. That was what remained. Mainly the toilets on every floor. Visible. I thought it was . . . I don’t know. Obscene? I mean, obscene to have to leave that exposed like that. The bathrooms. The toilets. I mean, it looked so . . . I don’t know. Private? Or like everyone was let to see the private lives of those who had perished. Does that make sense? I don’t know, it’s a sight I won’t ever forget. I felt ashamed looking at it. I felt like I was peering inside the private lives of people, even though they were all crushed in the other half that the Titan had separated with his sword. The collapsed half.