What should be done between each diaper change?

The diaper change surface should be cleaned and dried.

Nothing, the diaper change area should be cleaned at the end of the day

The diaper change area should be clean with water only.

The diaper change area should be cleaned after every other child to save time.

What should be done after each use of the bathtub or shower?

Bathtubs and showers should be cleaned with a disinfectant after each use.

Nothing, the dirt goes down the drain.

Bathtubs and showers are cleaned with soap and water only.

Bathtubs and showers are only used for evening care children and, their parents clean the area before and after use.

What discipline technique is appropriate in a child care center?

putting up toys when told to do so.

throwing objects at other children

Bright from the Start

Write questions based on the text: How long could you survive at sea? One day? Two? And when would you start to lose hope? When Robert Hewitt came to the surface, he realized straight away that something was wrong. He’d been diving for sea urchins and crayfish off the coast of New Zealand with a friend, and had decided to make the 200-metre swim back to shore alone. But instead, strong underwater currents had taken him more than half a kilometre out to sea. Lying on his back in the middle of the ocean, Robert told himself not to panic. He was a strong swimmer and he was wearing his thick wetsuit. 'I'm not going to die. Someone will come,' he told himself. But three hours passed and still no one had come for him. Robert would soon have to make a tough decision. He was now a long way from the coast and the tide was taking him further out, but he decided not to try to swim for shore. He felt it was better to save his energy and hold on to his brightly coloured equipment. But the decision was not an easy one. 'l just closed my eyes and said, "You've made the right decision. You've made the right decision" until that's all I heard,' he remembers. As night approached, Robert established a pattern to help him survive in the water. To stay warm, he kept himself moving and took short naps of less than a minute at a time. Every few hours, he called out to his loved ones: 'Just yelling out their names would pick me up and then I would keep going for the next hour and the next hour and the next.' When he woke the next morning, he couldn't believe he was still alive. Using his bright equipment, he tried to signal to planes that flew overhead. But as each plane turned away, his spirits dropped. He managed to drink water from his oxygen tank to keep himself alive, but as day turned to night again he started to imagine things. Robert woke on the third day to a beautiful blue sky. Now seven kilometres off the coast, Robert decided he had to swim for it. But the sun was so strong and Robert quickly ran out of strength. Hope turned to disappointment yet again: 'l felt disappointed in myself. I thought I was a lot fitter. I thought I would be able to do it.' Robert then started to think he might not survive. On the fourth day, the lack of food and water was really starting to affect him. Half unconscious, and with strange visions going through his head, he thought he saw a boat coming towards him with two of his friends in. Another vision, surely. But no - 'They put me in the boat and I said something like "Oh, how's it going, what are you guys doing here?"' Then he asked them the question that he'd asked in all his visions: 'Can I have some water?' As they handed him the water and he felt it touch his lips, he knew. This was not a vision. He'd been found! After four days and three nights alone at sea, Robert had been found! Sunburnt, hungry and exhausted, but alive.

During daytime, the sky is bright and clear because the sun shines bright. We can see clouds, the sun and sometimes there is a rainbow. The sun is the nearest and brightest star on earth, the reason why we don’t see stars during daytime because the sun overpowers the weak lights of the stars. Do you know that the sun changes its position at different time of the day? Yes, early in the morning we can see the sun rising at the East. At this time of the day our surroundings is bright but not very hot, this is the reason why many children especially new born are placed under the sun because the light coming from the sun is good for them. At noontime the sun is overhead. It is very hot at this time of the day. This is the reason why it is not advisable for us to go outside. In the afternoon, we can see the sun setting at the West part of the sky. It is said that this the best time for the children to play outside because the sky s less bright and the temperature is cooler. SCIENCE 2 – MODULE 10 SEIBO COLLEGE 5 It is during daytime we do our chores, like cleaning the house, washing clothes, going to school or office and play. What do you think the reason why we do all these things during daytime? Now, close your eyes then imagine it is nighttime already. What can you see in the sky? Open your eyes then observe the picture below. Can you see these? Very good! You can see the moon and the stars. Sometimes you can see shooting stars or falling stars. At nighttime, we can not see the sun because it is already dark, we can only see the moon and the stars twinkling in the sky. Since there is no sun at night, the temperature is cooler. This is also the best time for us to rest and sleep. Do you know that the moon doesn’t have its own light? Yes, the moon only reflects the light from the sun. Do you now understand the difference of daytime from nighttime? Very good! But the question is how and why do we experience day and night? We experience day and night because the earth is moving around its axis. This movement is called rotation. SCIENCE 2 – MODULE 10 SEIBO COLLEGE 6 When the earth continuously rotates on its axis, part of it faces the sun and the other part is dark. The part of the earth that faces the sun experience daytime and the other part that is dark experience nighttime.

Starry Night Josie and Ling were good friends. Ling was happy Josie was her neighbor. Josie was happy Ling lived nearby, too. Josie and Ling couldn't wait for the school day to end. They planned a sleepover at Josie's house. They were going to sleep in a tent in Josie's backyard. As the class was leaving, Mr. Cortes said, "Your weekend homework is to look at the nighttime sky and explain what you saw on Monday." The class grumbled. "Why the unhappy sounds?" Mr. Cortes asked. "It will be fun looking at the sky at night." The girls arrived at Josie's house and were delighted to be sleeping outdoors. Josie said, "I'm so happy that we get to sleep in the tent. It will be lots of fun." Then Ling said, "I'll get the sleeping bags and flashlights. I brought flashlights so we can play games in the tent." Josie's dad poked his head inside the tent. "Girls, it is a good time to do your homework now because it is getting dark," he said. "Awww," they both complained. "Dad," said Josie, "Do we have to, now?" "Yes, I already set up the telescope." Ling said, "I hope this won't take too long." Josie looked up and spotted a crescent moon. "Did you know the moon's light comes from the sun?" said Josie. "It's funny that it's called moonlight." "Yes," said Ling, who was still thinking about playing in the tent. Josie's dad smiled at the girls and said, "See the stars in the sky? Those points of bright light can form shapes." "You can see the Big Dipper," he said. "It's a group of stars that look like a giant spoon in the sky." Josie's dad showed her how to look through the telescope. "Wow, that's more stars than I ever dreamed of. I never imagined there could be so many." It was Ling's turn to look. Ling cried out, "I see a bright light moving in the sky!" "That's a shooting star!" said Josie's dad. "This is fun," said Ling. "I really enjoy looking at the stars." "I think we've seen enough of the nighttime sky," said Josie's dad. "You girls can go play now." "Aw, Dad, can't we keep looking?" asked Josie. "This is really fun." "Yes," said Ling. "We have had an adventure already, and we haven't even played in the tent yet!" "You're right, Ling," said Josie. "This has been one exciting night."

Do you know where do the things around us get the energy they are using? How about you? Where do you get the energy you need to do your daily activities? Do you remember what we have discussed in Unit 4? Very good! OBJECTIVES: - Names the sources of energy. - Classifies the different sources of energy. SCIENCE 2 – MODULE 6 SEIBO COLLEGE 4 Energy allows us and all the things around us to move, work and become useful. Different things use different sources of energy. Let us find out what are these sources. Let us begin with the major source of energy, the sun. Sun The sun is most important and the main source of energy on earth. It makes the day hot, dry and bright. It can also help in… a. drying our clothes b. growing of plants Do you know that the sun is a star? Yes, the reason why we could see it during day time is that it is the nearest star to our planet. Electricity Electricity allows electrical appliance work. SCIENCE 2 – MODULE 6 SEIBO COLLEGE 5 Fuel Fuel makes different kinds of vehicles move. We use different kinds of vehicles to transport us from one place to another place. Food Like what we have discussed in unit 4, we get the energy we need to do our daily activities from the food we eat.

Brainstorm Bear Sam was setting up tables in the driveway. He noticed a brown bear up a tree nearby. "Mom, there's a bear over there!" Sam called. "What if it comes down and attacks us?" asked Sam's little sister Sarah. Mrs. Miller took Sarah's hand. "We'll keep a safe distance away" she replied. "We need to get the bear down before our yard sale starts" Sam said. "We could always cancel the yard sale," Mrs. Miller said. "I put up so many signs," Sam groaned. I know we can get the bear to come down if we just brainstorm the right idea." "Like the idea you had for the squirrels?" his mom asked. Two weeks before, Sam tried to stop the squirrels from eating all the birdseed. He dug a pit around the bird feeder and ruined his mother's tulips. "This is different," Sam said. "I promised you I'd draw all my ideas first before I actually do anything." "We could move our trampoline under the tree so the bear could jump onto it," Sarah suggested. Sam drew the idea on his notepad. He pictured the bear bouncing high into the air. "I think the trampoline's too bouncy, Sarah," he said. "Mom, what would you do to get the bear out of the tree?" Sarah asked. "I'd play a really bad song from the radio," Mrs. Miller laughed. Sam drew the idea on his notepad. He imagined the bear climbing even higher in the tree to get away from the noise. "If you play a bad song the bear will never come down," Sam sighed. "Look, the bear's eating something up there," Sarah said. "He's probably found some nuts that were stashed away by squirrels," Mrs. Miller said. "I've got it!" Sam shouted. He scribbled his plan in the notepad and showed Sarah and his mom. "We can make a trail of nuts leading back to the forest," Sam said. "Let's get nuts!" Sarah yelled. "All right, let's try it," Mrs. Miller said. Everyone raced to the chestnut tree in the backyard. "We're going to get that bear out of the tree!" Sam shouted. While they were gathering the chestnuts, the bear climbed down from the tree. Sam returned just in time to see the bear disappear into the woods behind the neighbors' house. "Aw, the bear is gone!" he said. "Look on the bright side," Mrs. Miller said. "At least you can have the yard sale now," she smiled.

Rainbows Introduction. When the Sun comes out after it rains, run outside. You may see a rainbow in the sky. Rainbows are tricks made by light. We can see them, but we can't touch them or walk around them. They seem to move away when we try to get close to them. Science can explain how rainbows happen. Where and When Rainbows Appear. Look around the next time you see a rainbow. The Sun will be shining from behind you. There will be rain in front of you, where you'll see the rainbow. Rainbows need water drops and sunlight to form. They can even form under a bright moon. These are called moonbows. We usually see a rainbow as a half circle. It actually forms a full circle. From the ground, we can only see the top half. How Rainbows Form. Years ago, a French scientist studied rainbows. He found that to see a rainbow, you must be in the right spot. Knowing how light moves helps explain rainbows. Think of running on land. Now think of trying to run through water. You will move more slowly through water because it is thicker than air. This pencil seems to bend where it enters the water. In the same way, light moves faster through air than through water. As the light moves through water, it slows down and bend. Rainbows form when water drops meet sunlight. The light bends when it goes into each drop. Then it reflects, or bounces, off the back of each drop. The light bends again as it leaves the drop. This happens in millions of water drops at once, making the colors of a rainbow. The Colors of the Rainbow. Sunlight is made up of many colors. Water drops split the sunlight into different colors. Splitting light makes a rainbow. You have to be in the right spot to see a rainbow. Each water drop reflects colored light at a slightly different angle. The colors of the rainbow always appear in the same order. The name ROY G. BIV can help you remember the seven main colors. They are red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Conclusion. Rain stops and the Sun comes out. A beautiful rainbow sweeps across the sky. Most people find it hard not to stop and stare when a rainbow appears. Science explains how rainbows form. Still, a rainbow is always a magical sight to see.

“On this night, we share a roof protecting us from fleets of inequity. Our unification promises a better tomorrow. Those larger than myself, sitting on their marble thrones, sipping blood from cups composed of human skin and singing songs of so-called virtue, grow weaker each moment. Their caravans are revolting. There is hope yet. There is progress! Though tonight may mark a countdown, it is still a celebration. Look at all we have done, not just for Trials but for Palatium Infra as a whole. In four years, when I’m no longer Sovereignty, the Spoiled Purity and his people will continue to strive. So drink! Smoke! Crush up those exotic plants and snort them! We will not falter, weaken, or wane. Our influence is expanding, and somebody new opens their eyes every day. Even the Silbys of Aculeus have reached alarming potentials despite their embittered minds. So long as you relish in tonight, dance, and pray to your “dead” Gods, our revolution shall rise beyond the bounds of class, and when I’m only a commoner, we shall rise again beyond our brainwashed adversaries! Cheers, my people. Cheers!” Followers raised their cups. Some clinked theirs together. Others stood still and screamed breathlessly in agreement. I smiled with courtesy, then stepped off my platform. My voice still rang across the cellar. Speeches before were grander. Those displays were supposed to be emptying, and yet this one left me bloated, swollen tight. I watched as they popped the corks of their bottles and chanted in the name of Purity. Maybe the quality of my words wasn’t what mattered to them anyway, so long as I screamed loud enough. There’s no merit in attacking your people, a voice corrected me. “That’s right,” I said aloud. “Knox, my-my Sovereign!” squealed a nearby devotee, jittering as he stuffed his face with catered pastries. He was one I’d never seen before or had failed to remember. “Look what I’ve found! It’s wine, and not the shoddy Infran kind, either. Earth-made with good fruit! I don’t know how anyone managed to get their hands on this. Maybe some space travel mischief.” He giggled and held up a small glass bottle. “How neat.” “I want you to have it, Sir.” I nodded my head. “Yes, of course. Thank you.” Backing off into the midst of rowdy disciples, I clutched the bottle. What a waste of grapes. It could have been jam instead. Earthly food had a superior taste, ripe with delicate intricacies and nostalgia, but Palatium Infra had mastered the art of alcohol. Why waste your time with a drunkenness so sad and sickening? The booze of trash. Not many more followers approached me. The barren peroration must have upset them. My hands itched to submerge into my suit pockets, and my legs stood suddenly numb, wobbling. Four more years until I’m nothing. But tonight, you are nothing. “Shut up,” I told myself. Tightly packed together in the corner of the dwelling sat the Sibyls. A mound of writhing fabric and tones of skin made up their unified silhouette. I snapped the strap of the nearest gown, balancing on my hands and knees, waving the bottle before them. In their almost rodent nature, narrow noses prodded my way. Their dresses wrinkled and fell to their ankles. Knees dropped, and eyes widened. Many grumbled at me like hungry she-beasts. Those newer ones with faded curtains for hair, sunken eyes, and dirtied nails looked, hid their face, then sobbed. I imagined them in a pack together, fighting wildly against the Spoiled Purity in their rat decorum–biting down with square teeth laced with rabies. “I’ve got you all something,” I said. “Go back off to your pedestal and yap some more. We don’t want it.” A woman rose from the pile and spat. “You don’t even know what it is yet. It's Earth hooch, or more likely a near-flawless replica. I figured you girls would also like a chance to enjoy yourselves tonight.” “Your playmates have been harassing us since the moment you hung the banners and opened the cellar door.” The youngest, with a striking cyan mop upon her head, uncoiled from the mass. What was she now? 20, 21? We celebrated a birthday recently, I thought as she spun around me. “I remember something about a promise. Multiple promises, actually. Are you trying to bribe us into just shutting up and taking it? Because if another sticky, 40-year-old, Earth-born virgin gropes my shoulder, I’m going to have an aneurysm!” the girl continued. “Why not an Infran follower? Do you like it when they touch you?” I returned her accusing tone. “I’m sorry, sweet prophets, that you feel I’ve neglected my duties. I’ll keep a better eye out. Remember, you can always just holler if somebody is bothering you. And Anwen, friend, if I’ve ever tried to bribe you with anything, it was certainly the hair dye. I mean, look at you! Such handsomeness!” I exclaimed. The other Siblys began to encircle her, uttering compliments or even announcements of their envy. Anwen disappeared in a wink with flushed cheeks back into the mound. “I’ll just leave this here.” Smiling, I set down the bottle. ** “141, 143. . .” I counted each step as I trekked the staircase. There was no doubt I lost track somewhere. The ledges kept spawning under my feet, infinitely multiplying until I wasn’t moving at all–swallowing me up in a whirlpool of stone. My tie still hung around my neck, and my blazer remained tied around my hips as a skirt. Streaks of red dribbled off from the cavity in my chest. It was a gorgeous marking, sensual to my fingertips as I traced its edges. Purity, oh, Purity. Purity and his wings of burnt skin. Purity and his many faces. Purity the spoiled. Purity the mutilated. The Silbys did not bother waiting for me. On bare feet, they stormed up the stairs to their room. A trail of red, though in paint unlike mine, streamed after them. None looked remotely near me as they squeaked and gossiped intangibly. I saved them, those Infran broads, enlightened them. As much as they liked to deny it, spit at me, and bask in the thought of their victimhood, in this home, they stood empowered. You’ve done well, my thoughts affirmed, though in the manner of an insincere commentator rather than a hype man. Teeth grace in tile violin goes laundry paper when. It dissolved into an intruding drivel. I rubbed my head and sniveled. “Do you need help, Knox?” called a Silby. Fattened by my coddling, her shadow fell upon me from the doorway steps ahead. I attempted counting again. There must’ve been at least another hundred between me and her. “I’m hallucinating some,” I said, breathing deeply to suppress a burp as I struggled to recall her name. Two syllables. Typically Latin, though sometimes English. Drops of slobber leaked from my mouth. “I’m hallucinating some, Tybal. Do you like your name, Tybal? I would have named you something better. Ty-Tyballinia. No, we’d have to eliminate the ‘ball’ aspect. It sounds too crude.” “One foot in front of the other,” she said. So I walked. Mess greeted me at the doorway. Dirtied culinary obscured the dark wooden countertops, and the sink lay running. I approached the kitchen table, sat, and set my face down upon its cool wooden surface. Assaulting my nose was the smell of neglected flowers, like soil mixed with the kind of sweet cough medicine that would have left me gagging as a child. Open windows whispered songs of the twilight hour through the vessels of busy trolleys and shooting guns. My mouth strained to vomit, but there was nothing in my stomach to regurgitate except the petals of Stulto’s bloom, which came out effortlessly in little sputters. Teetering, I stood up and brushed disgorged plant parts off the tabletop. “Love,” I said as I slogged up yet another staircase. “Are you awake?” She said she’d wait. Somebody’s gotten her. No, she always misses movie night. That sleepyhead, I assured myself. There was a stirring amidst the manor’s cloak of dusk. Portraits of myself, my wife, and my daughter turned to face me as the hallway lights flickered, escaping their quartz frames to penetrate my ears with nonsense. The taxidermied heads of Infran creatures bared their teeth. I stopped to stare at my favorite, an adabactor with daunting spiked tusks poking out from its forehead. Its nose remained black and sharp, and its eyes wide with malice. “Where is my Spes, Adaba-boy? Is she sleepy?” There’s someone in the house. The sounds of the stirring rose along with my blood pressure. Footsteps orbited around me, drawing near and far and then near again, little dancers in the dark. The carpet immersed me in its mass of purples and blues, leaving my skin stained indigo and my vision abstracted. I toiled to reach the master bedroom across the aisle as it stretched out to me with bright lights and celestial howling, like a dove struggling in a pool of oil. Never again with Stulto’s bloom. Never again on what was already a bad night. My hand brushed the doorknob, and the high abruptly faded into only a persistent hum-buzz twirling around my brain. The portraits returned to their typical depression–Spes posing with her ax, Ari’s school photo, and myself in the cap I wore when addressing the military with the Verbis emblem embroidered in its center. All lifeless shots. Who were they for when they captured not the subject’s essence but only some fragment of their identity? They used to feel personal, not advertisements of some supposed characters. Servants, babysitters, and likewise civilian guests, I reminded myself, mustn’t forget whose home they’re in. Yet my body moved independently, taking Ari’s from its hook and laying it backward against the wall to hide her distant grin and tamed posture. It was time for new pictures. Sweet ones, real ones; time was ticking. I approached my own when the stirring began again. Groans and squeals erupted from the vents as if someone had set a pen of pigs loose in my crawlspace. No, not the crawlspace, my bedroom door. I turned the ruby knob. Underneath a blanket wrestled my two squealing piglets, their skins melting together beneath the layer of duvet. Fishnet leggings and manicured nails outstretched and scraped at the sheet beneath them. One raised its head, a salmon-colored man with sweat running down his forehead. Through the crack in the door, we met eyes, his Infran Dr. Sesuss nose flaring its narrow nostrils. No mark of the Spoiled Purity existed carved onto his naked body. My chest felt tight. I stepped back. I was suffocating. Spes emerged from the linens, her hair flowing down her back and her dark skin glistening in front of the bedroom window. She giggled and held the man, the blanket falling and revealing inches of her body I had not seen in months. “Darling,” whispered the rosy-faced man, “look.” He was unfathomably ugly and grotesquely young, with beady, lifeless pupils that dilated when he faced me. The excess flesh on his face sagged while he bit down on his thin lips. My wife faced me, gasped, and strained to cover herself. Suddenly, I was a stranger. A small child who had walked into his parents having sex. I unfurled the door completely. “Get out of my house,” I said. The man stayed in place. “Get out of my house,” I repeated. “Knox,” Spes began. Tears ran down her round cheeks. “Shut up!” I turned to the man, picking up a marble trophy from on top of my dresser. “Get out of my house! I’ll kill you!” “Knox!” Spes sobbed. “God damn it! I hate you! You barely look at me. Every day, there’s less passion. God, God, God, I don’t want to fuck a dead man!” she screamed, “You get out! Get! Get!” My hands wrapped tighter around the statue. That pig of a man was attached to her at the side, his face equipped with a scowl that challenged mine. He thought I was weak; frail like a decaying dementia-ridden senior. I imagined his skull bashed in, his scowl gone, and the feist and confidence in his face beaten into numbness. A new portrait was in order of such brutality, him as a splintered slab of wood, rashed and beaten, a carcass licking my boot. The churning in my brain had come back. Every wall shook. Clock faces came to life and rang in alarm. Indescribable noises caressed my eardrum before breaking into sorrowful weeps. Was it my own? I stared at Spes in motionless frenzy, clenched my teeth, and screamed like a siren. Passionless. What a lie! An excuse, more like. One that erased all my ventures, reducing me to a nobody. But I was not a nobody. I thought of my sect, my campaigns, my endurance through the political brutality of my empty hive-mind world–even my collection of literature, maps, and artifacts. I thought of daring nights alone with Spes when we were young, ravaging each other, two sardonic eggheads suddenly overcome with desire. The veins in my neck throbbed as I gasped for air. It was all I had. I threw the figurine at the man’s head. Eye shut, I heard the thud. A million singing voices of victory flooded out of the cracks in the floorboard. Proving myself a man to the woman I loved in a display of fervent violence was passion. I strained my ears for his cries, though I did not look yet. There had to be a pause, a moment of relief, where I stood tall as a skyscraper and seemingly fought to stay contained in front of my wife and her wounded, quivering paramour. Frantic footsteps rushed off the bed and past my side. I turned and grappled against myself to seize my wife’s shoulder. “Spes!” My eyelids lifted. Escaping was the man with that same numb expression in which I had imagined him. “You’re insane,” he said. I swiveled back towards the bed. With her curly locks flowing over her breasts and her limbs bent at her sides, Spes sat limp pressed against the headboard, her forehead bludgeoned and the statue resting on her stomach. Lips pursed and sweet, my Renaissance beauty reclined there in the guise of a squashed bug. But she was not dead. The desk ornament I flung was only the size of my shoe. Spes, that dramatist, may have been slightly hurt but was far from dead. She only wanted me to think she was to observe me at my most distraught, like a leech feeding on misery. “Get up.” Staggering toward the bed, I said. “You wanted passion? I showed you passion. ‘Shoved it right into your head. Of course, we both know who that gesture was meant for. . .” I fumbled to find my wit. Cold skin met my hands as I stroked her face, unable to resist checking her pulse, even though she was not dead. “I love you, Spes,” I said. Rain pelted against a nearby window. “Spes, please. Please.” No vibration answered my plea. I lifted my hand, sitting next to her now. Tears did not come. There was not any blood on the trophy, but when I picked it up, it felt to be now only a cruel instrument. It depicted a younger me in white marble, with my glasses and collared shirt being the only things painted. Both were in pink. It was a favorable color. I scrambled from the bed to vomit pure digestive bile on the rug. My stomach heaved. I ran my nails along every piece of myself I saw, a dog chasing my tail. As I slammed myself against walls and convulsed, my own heart grew ever louder in my chest. “Dad? I heard–” Ari’s slippered feet hammered across the floor. “Mom? Mom?” I kept my eyes on the storm. Silence fell. “She-She isn’t—your—.” Gasps interrupted every syllable she spoke. “You’re a murderer. Bad. Like they said,” she breathed, “ You beat her!” The words became mush, alphabet soup. Ari ran back down the hall. “My-My mom is dead. . . .Yes. . . Manor of the Trials Sovereignty. . .Ari Sorkin. . . I’m afraid he’s going to hurt me,” she said, presumably over the phone. It was all too fast. I crawled onto the windowsill, opened the glass, and let myself plummet into the alley below. Gusts of wind howled. The lack of motion or sensation informed me I had passed and again lived. Another Palatium Infra, another strange planet in which the celestial endowed rotting men with the opportunity to inhabit. Was this it? Was it all just an impossible limbo of galactic traveling? My surroundings were overwhelmingly gray, an abyss of clouds. Perhaps I had now met the real coming world, and my family and old friends lived here, ready to rush to my sides, lift me up, and jump for joy. Spes would be there. She would be enraged, but at least she’d be there. You are a bad man. You are a bad man. My eyelashes fluttered. There was a tugging sensation in my leg. The fog was wavering along with my ascendance. “No,” I yearned, trying to grip the clouds and stick them in place. “Stay with me.” But the peace was fleeting. I felt the cement under me and the moist garments clinging to my figure. My leg burned. Carefully, I craned my neck, only to observe the promenade as my surroundings. The most underwhelming of filth and danger, individually Infran. Forever my coming world. What a fool I was, having forgotten my blessing. Those idiot Gods could not tell the difference between assassination and self-infliction; a faulty insurance plan. The urge to cry at last set over me, and so I sat and wailed hot salvia into my palm, shielding my mouth to muffle the noise. Thunder echoed my hushed howling. Raindrops turned to pebbles. Under the ambiance of the stormy night, I could have sworn I heard troops stomping, guns cocking, and the chanting of my name. They had all been waiting for this. Billboards came to life, and I could only sit and spectate as the scenery flashed red. I inhaled fear and sobriety through runny nostrils. “Trials Sovereign Vsevolod “Knox” Sorkin is currently at large for the suspected homicide of Spes Sorkin, breaking the first term of the Sovereignty Charter. We now instruct you to report any sightings of the Earth-born, caucasian, roughly 195 centimeters tall, brown-haired, and brown-eyed man to your local Guard post. One can identify the suspected convict specifically by an occult tattoo of Purity’s Coronet on his lower back. No attempted execution or elongated punishment will take place until our Guards conduct an autopsy proving his guilt, per Life’s 1238 commandment. We cannot be sure when or if the Gods will revoke his blessing. Remember, when Gods frown upon strife, opt for a peaceful life. We permit all grieving festivities until Cagidus 4th. Good year!” towering buildings sang out in broadcast, repeating that same convoluted message quicker the instant it ended. Sometimes, the announcer spoke in Latin for the Infran children, other times in Chinese, Hindi, or Spanish to cater to those of irrelevant tongues. You aren’t a bad man. You are a stupid boy. Puddles sloshed. Somebody was approaching. I didn’t dare waste any remaining energy avoiding the Guards and their prodding blades. How did that phrase go? You dug your grave. Now lie in it. And so I embraced the cement. “Knox?” said the Guard. No, her tone was too sincere, and no authority would proceed in such a manner. There wasn’t confirmation on whether or not I was armed, and it wasn’t as if she could shoot me first. She was a partygoer, having just left from the cellar’s backdoor. I shooed her away with my hand. She hovered, and I discerned her shadow hesitating over my body. A man could not rot in peace. “Come on, get up! They’re after you!” Hands reached around my torso, struggling to handle my weight as they urged me onto my feet. That leg, the burning one, my right, trembled and bent unnaturally upon impact with the ground. The partygoer slung my arm over her shoulder, balancing me. My eyes caught a glimpse of a cyan mop. “Anwen?” I rasped, “hu-who let you out?” Keys jangled in her hands–my keys. “I escaped,” she said casually, coercing me to walk beside her. “Quicken your pace. I just heard somebody on your front porch. ‘You see that compost bin down the alley? We’re gonna burrow right down into the depth of that. If they open it and uncover us, I’ll be on top, and I can hide you and act like I’m just a homeless amica trying to take a nap.” With a tightening grip, she led me like livestock to the stinking crate. “I don’t understand, Anwen,” I said. “They’re going to torture and kill you, stupid. You know they’ve been wanting to, and you just handed the opportunity to them!” “I understand that.” It was becoming increasingly challenging to hide the fragility emerging in my voice. “You said you were escaping. Why stop and help your captor?” “What else could I do? Leave you there?” Attempts to shove my wounded body inside its mass of discarded fruits and vegetables began. She yanked down upon my head and submerged me in the fertilizer sea. The evidence grows indisputable, I thought as I stared at the abruptly humane Infran girl, diving in after me, that I belong here. “Damn me to hell! I’ve killed her! My love is dead!” an uncontrollable cry leaped from my mouth. “Shut up! Soon you’ll be, too, if you don’t quiet down.” The actual noise of the Guards darted past us: disorientated marching, guns clanking against each other, cluttered belts rattling, the Latin squawking. One paused to open the bin’s lid, though only rummaged through the surface layer of peat before carrying on. “What are they talking about? I struggle with my Latin,” I whispered. “The search, mainly.” Aggression remained firey in Anwen’s clenched jaw. Though she sat on top of me, there was a monumental distance between our rain-soaked forms. I curled up into a ball, ducked my head between my knees, and dreamt of Spes, ignoring the stench of spoiled food rising from every crevice of my dwelling. The next coming world was due to adopt me again as I forced sleep. I prayed for a canyon of fluffy haze, where I waltzed with pale memories but found nothing but the petrifying stillness of my mind. Killed and ran. Violent as a Guard just to prove a point and watch it backfire. Why would any heaven want to welcome me? I clung to the picture of Spes in my head like it was the last ember of an extinguished flame. “Did you mean to kill her?” Anwen interrogated. “Someone like you would immutably believe yes.” “And who is someone like me? You can’t even treat me like a person for a moment, can you?” grating drama decorated her words. “You know my opinions. I have not seen much of your or your breed’s faces besides that of cruelty and ignorance.” I retorted. “I just saved you! Does that make me cruel and ignorant?” “It makes you an idiot, which is another word for somebody ignorant.” “And why am I an idiot?” She asked. “Because you helping me does no good. Thank you anyhow. Now, do yourself a favor and scram.” As she bent her leg in anticipation, preparing to strike me on the forehead, I sensed an invisible withdrawal widening the gap between us. “You never answered my question,” Anwen took me by the end of my tattered tie suddenly and started her game of shepherd and sheep over again, pulling me back up to the crate’s exit. It appeared as a shining light at the end of a maze of rubbish and mold. “No. Of course not. Spes was my everything,” I sniffled. “I knew it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to hit us, let alone murder your wife. The girls and I always figured you were sensitive.” My heart rate quickened. Today was one of humbling and misery–one to pray a hail spike would fall from the sky as sharp as a needle, pierce into my eyelid, and lobotomize me. I wished I could have merely died or hit my head hard enough not to have to deal with it all. No, I wished I was Anwen with her snarky, careless glow and lack of depth in her eyes. As we emerged from the compost bin together, I fantasized about strangling her until her face turned purple, her weakening spirit no longer categorizing me as “sensitive”, but the thought could only remind me of wielding that trophy and the microscopic traces of my wife’s tender skin tainting it, which turned my guts inside out. “That’s why I think you could use a little help,” Anwen said, “It seems like you can’t walk, either. Your leg is all twisted up.” She undid one of her trim pigtails and handed me the band. “Take off your tie and put up your hair. ‘Will make you less recognizable. Then swallow your pride and stick with me.”

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