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Autoing was the demise of The Dude.

With the arise and transpire of long piping thickets of smoke,

And tires on pavement, and horns yelling in ear,

Man meant nothing but of the Auto’s shifting gear.

Need a quart of milk? Into the Auto!

Desire a trip to the neighboring port? Into the Auto!

Plead an escape from the confined quarrels and unmorals of the four walls painted with pale corals and ary with looming irritable child’s warbles? Into the Auto!

Auto is our escape from our own natural hell and into the false safety shell of convenience and withdrawal and diversion for which we are a glutton.

And so shut on our intimate ways of things as we always do and as we do more, for why bother with the old when we can simply implore the golden new?

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My sole companion set out to comfort me after our impulsive flee from home. I was exhausted from attempting to satisfy the broken soul we had left behind. Too many years had been wasted waiting for a transformation that would simply never occur. In an instant, my wandering thoughts were interrupted by my dear confidant.

The engine purred, daring me to press the gas pedal. The red traffic light reflected in my glasses, taunting me. There was not another living being in sight. This desolate intersection seemed to have been placed deliberately, to slow the arrival to an undetermined destination. All I knew in that moment was the smoothness of my steering wheel and the breeze of the wind carrying itself through the open windows.

A flash of green signaled our release from the intersection and we barreled underneath the traffic lights. My car slid around a bend and again we were free from civilization. The darkness of the surrounding forest suffocated the street, but I found comfort in it. The chaos of my home was behind me.

My foot pressed the gas pedal as the road straightened out, and my car accelerated accordingly. Our codependency flourished as we enabled each other to destruction. I was addicted to the illusion of control and my car was glad to oblige as we sped away from reality.

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Alessia laid on her bed, surrounded by priests and nobles, who all wept as their savior-queen was dying before them. Though she had lived long and well, they all wished for her to stay, even if for a minute longer. She turned her head, and smiled as she saw her husband, Morihaus, Son-of-Kyne, walk to her, but she was hit with shock when she saw who he walked with. She saw him.

Pelinal walked next to Morihaus, coming to Alessia’s bedside, and held her hand in his gauntlet. “My lady, I am sorry that I hadn’t been there for your coronation, or the establishment of the Imperial Cult, but I must say, from me to Aka, I am most grateful for what you have done for the people of our Empire.” Pelinal said, and though he tried to sound stoic, the emotion was clear in his voice.

“It is fine, Pelinal. Truly, your presence was the last thing I expected.” The second part was truthful, because the first was a lie. She saw Morihaus as he spoke with Pelinal, cut into eight, as he spoke his last words. Alessia had been there for the funeral, watched as they put his body in a casket and lowered it into his final resting place. How could Pelinal be here?

“Why have you come back now, of all times?”

“To give strength to you in this time. So you may now, even in death, serve as a beacon of hope to your people.”

“Surely now, with you returned, you could do this yourself.”

Pelinal chuckled. “No, my lady, I am called Shezzarine, but you are called Saint. I am of Heaven, you are of flesh. Since far before your rebellion, you have been a sign to all that even the ordinary men may stand against the elves, the demons, and even death itself. To show this spirit still lies within you, even as you die, truly would empower the Imperial citizenry.”

“Even so, I’m sure your presence would be most appreciated.”

“I’m sorry, but I cannot. Though I walk again and again, I must walk with a different face. And with each I bare, I lose my spirit, my essence.”

“I know this to be true, as told by the blood of the Aka-Tusk, the Red Diamond, that the divinity of The Missing God is limited, bound to mortality until he is mantled, replaced.”

“An inevitability I cannot allow. I must do well in my next face, to come closer and closer to reclamation, and to gain my dual-hearts once more.”

The Red Diamond, the Aka-Tusk’s blood, he thought to himself amusingly, I’d never imagined the Mad One would stoop to my level.

Pelinal had been staring at the Red Diamond around Alessia’s neck, rather than at her, as they were speaking. He watched it glow even brighter than when Morihaus reclaimed it from Pelinal’s open chest. He wished to grab it from her, to reclaim his heart, the Heart of Kings, once more. He stopped himself, though. Pelinal couldn’t be able to use it. Soon he will leave the mortal realm, and his mortal soul will go back to Heaven. He, Shezzar, his spirit would rest dormant once more, contained within his other heart, the Doom-Drum, the Heart of Gods, in Red Mountain. Eventually, he’d come back once more, as a mortal, but he knew not how long this cycle would continue. He would have to make sure that he may return to Heaven, before his divine spark was consumed.

Alessia had eventually noticed where Pelinal was looking, and with seeing the Diamond glow, she was overcome with understanding. “Shezzar, the blood of Aka, ordained to me in both amulet and soul, shan’t allow you to use your heart. It is with seal that won’t allow for your rise once more.” Alessia bitterly said, realizing the facade of the White-Strake. She looked to Morihaus, who could feel the treachery all the same. “You would deceive my wife and family, fox?” he barked, his nose ring fluttering as he spoke. “I would cut you here if I knew it would matter, Shor.”

Pelinal turned to Morihaus, smiling. “You would use the name of the man who married your mother. You should then know of the faults of the Aka-Tusk, his failures to stop man and the true Gods.”

“Kyne had been shown the true way by Aka, and sought to guide man with her wind this way. The armor you wear, the shield you hold, and the blade and mace you carry are of this way. You have no right to have it.” Morihaus chastised.

“You are correct, though with all my tricks, it was a necessary one.” Pelinal then looked to the sky. “A day shall come, where one blessed by you, Aka-Tusk will forsake his ways, and he will come to me, and together we shall obtain Heaven as one.”

Alessia started limping, feeling her life finally leaving. “That day will never come. Your divinity will fade, and you with it.”

Then, Pelinal left without a word, and the room fell quiet. Morihaus wished to reassure his wife that he would never win, that the Eight Divines would prevent his ascension. But he couldn’t. As he embraced his dying wife one last time, he saw the future of this world. He saw the Stormcrown, the Northern Dragon, wearing the Heart of Kings, and with another, the Battlemage, approaching the Heart of Gods, heeding the whispers of an ancient hero told to bare the soul of Shor. This vision, this future, he couldn’t allow. All he could say was, “I love you,” as the last breath left Alessia’s body.

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Hi everyone, I'm Eddie Leary. I'm a student at Falmouth highschool and I'm here to talk to you all about a very controversial question. Should phones be allowed in school? Last year I went to a private catholic school called Saint John Paul the II High School. I would have to wake up every morning very early just to drive forty minutes to a school that had a uniform. That's not all folks. You also weren't allowed to use your phone. Some people might ask “why is that such a problem?”

A great number of people have smartphones in the world right now. Even old people, even though they can barely figure them out, for example, my grandfather. But anyway everyone uses these devices for an average of three hours and fifteen minutes a day. People may say that's a bad thing but in some ways it's good. With the technology of today's age, people need their phones. One time I got detention because my English teachers saw the print of my phone in my pocket. That's ridiculous. This year I transferred to Falmouth highschool and I am allowed to use my phone. Now I can't get in trouble for having my phone on me and I can use it whenever I want. The only downside to this would be people start to not pay attention in class. But honestly, I don't think it makes much of a difference. My grade has been a little better this year and they say junior year is supposed to be very difficult.

At the end of the day, I think it is not a good choice on the school's part to take the student's rights of using their phones away. That's just the way the world is now, technology is needed in our everyday lives. I also think that teachers should be able to tell their students to not use them during class but taking them away is not the right thing to do. Thank you that is all.

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Samantha and Jake had been best friends since childhood, but their relationship had been strained since Samantha's promotion to CEO of a major corporation. Jake had always been supportive of Samantha's career, but he couldn't help feeling resentful of her success.

Dialogue:

Samantha: "Hey, Jake. It's been a while. How are you?"

Jake: "I'm fine, Sam. Congrats on the promotion."

Samantha: "Thanks, it's been a lot of hard work."

Jake: "Yeah, I'm sure it has been."

Samantha: "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jake: "Nothing, forget it."

Samantha: "No, tell me. What's bothering you?"

Jake: "It's just that we used to be equals, but now you're this big shot CEO and I'm still working at the same job."

Samantha: "I'm sorry you feel that way, Jake. I worked hard to get where I am, and I'm not going to apologize for my success."

Internal Monologue:

Samantha: I can't believe Jake is being so petty. He's always been supportive of my career, but now he's acting like I don't deserve my success. Maybe it's time to re-evaluate our friendship.

Jake: I can't help feeling jealous of Samantha's success. I know I shouldn't, but it's hard to see her living the life I always wanted. Maybe it's time to focus on my own goals instead of comparing myself to her.

Dialogue:

Jake: "Look, Sam. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

Samantha: "It's okay, Jake. I understand why you're upset. But I need you to know that I value our friendship more than anything."

Jake: "I know, Sam. And I'm proud of everything you've accomplished. I just need to work on my own insecurities."

Samantha: "We all have our struggles, Jake. But we're in this together, remember?"

Jake: "Yeah, you're right. We're still best friends, no matter what."

Internal Monologue:

Samantha: I'm glad Jake and I were able to work through our issues. Our friendship means too much to me to let it fall apart.

Jake: I'm grateful for Samantha's understanding. She's right, we're in this together. Maybe it's time to start focusing on what I can do to achieve my own goals

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At the bustling coffee shop on Main Street, a well-dressed man with slicked-back hair and a charming smile approached the counter. He greeted the barista with a polite tone and placed his order for a double espresso with a dash of cream.

As the barista prepared his drink, the man's thoughts were in stark contrast to his pleasant demeanor. He was seething with frustration, his mind racing with thoughts of how he had been wronged by his colleagues at work. He had been passed over for a promotion that he felt he deserved, and it was eating away at him.

Despite his inner turmoil, the man maintained his facade of politeness as the barista handed him his drink. He thanked her with a smile and made his way to a table in the corner of the shop, where a young woman was waiting for him.The woman was dressed in casual clothing, with her hair pulled back in a messy bun. She looked up as the man approached, and her face lit up with a smile. They exchanged pleasantries, and the man took a sip of his coffee.

As the conversation continued, the man's thoughts drifted back to his work situation. He couldn't help but feel resentful towards his colleagues, who he felt had conspired against him to keep him from getting the promotion he deserved. He wanted to lash out at them, to let them know how angry he was.

But instead, he maintained his polite and enthusiastic tone as he spoke with the woman. He asked her about her day, and listened attentively as she shared her stories. He laughed at her jokes and made her feel valued, all the while struggling to keep his own emotions in check.

As the conversation came to an end, the man stood up and thanked the woman for her time. He gave her a warm hug, and she returned it with equal enthusiasm. As he walked out of the coffee shop, his thoughts returned once again to his work situation.

He knew that he needed to find a way to deal with his anger and frustration, but for now, he was content to maintain his facade of politeness and enthusiasm. He knew that it was the only way to get through the day without losing his cool.

The woman watched him go with a smile on her face, completely unaware of the turmoil that was raging inside of him. She had enjoyed their conversation and was looking forward to seeing him again, never suspecting that the man she had just spent time with was struggling to keep his emotions in check.