The man was sick, or had been for hours. When he rose, finally, it was bright out and hot, and he determined that he would not be making it to the conference that day, and instead he would ride the train that went around the city. The way he figured it was, to sit upright, indoors, and work at looking interested was more likely to bring back last night’s nausea than the train. Getting sick in front of people he knew would be embarrassing. This way, if he did puke, it’d be with strangers he would never see again. And trains calmed him.
He packed a big bottle [...]
If you're a man driving alone on a certain stretch of Archer Avenue on Chicago's South Side, you may see a teenage girl on the side of the road, thumb out, trying to hitch a ride. If you stop for her—which, being a concerned citizen, you'll consider—you'll notice her outfit's a bit dated: a white formal dress and the kind of dancing shoes you might find in the back of your grandma's closet. There's something a little bit off about her, but you can't quite place what it is.
She'll say her name is Mary and she'll ask for a ride home, just up the road. When you approach [...]
"Background radiation in the accident zone is still well above normal," says CNN, about the Chernobyl exclusion zone, which is going to be opened to tourists! Awesome. I would love to go see this, actually. But also, says CNN, "visitors receive a dose comparable to the exposure they would receive on a trans-Atlantic flight." Got that? High radiation; just like flying to London.
Dear riders of the Powell-Mason cable car line in San Francisco, late summer 1991,
Sorry for flashing you.