Script:
Meeting, I've got a meeting, I say to the brunette beside me. Hooking up while I'm at an away game has been my life for the past four years since Cora's been living with me. There was no way I was bringing home a girl when I was trying to set an example for my kid sister. Raising a college girl wasn't easy. Just ask my so-called best friend Nick, who practically helped me raise her before he started sleeping with her. Christ. But even after she moved in with him, I haven't had the courage to bring a date to my place. I'm a high-profile athlete. I can't have random chicks at my house, knowing where I live. So I kept up my M.O. of hooking up with girls I'd likely never see again at hotel rooms when traveling. Oh no, she coos, running a fingernail against my chest. Thought you boys liked it in the morning. She shimmies down to my cock and I groan. Not from satisfaction, not in the least. I groan from remembering her version of going down on a man last night. Yeah, I'll pass. Oh babe, I pull her up gently to my chest. I've gotta get to this meeting. Coach will kill me. I can wait here for you. How long is this meeting? Yeah, usually long. Then we gotta head to the airport. She pouts. Just give them my room number downstairs and get yourself some coffee and breakfast. I kiss her lips. I'm sure you worked up an appetite last night.
Script:
Later that evening, Orion nodded to the last of the guards who saluted as they left. He turned his attention to Tari, who sat on the settee in her sitting room, combing her hair. She wasn't upset. Her emotions were a smoky mixture of puzzlement and curiosity, peppered with a dash of leftover adrenaline. Evluin had just finished trimming her hair, evening it out from its abrupt cut. The back was now a great deal shorter than the front, which was barely long enough to touch her shoulders. The last of the honor guards shut the door, leaving them alone for the first time since the attack. The hours after had been spent closeted in interviews with both kings, the guard commander, and a slew of army soldiers. I am puzzled, Tari announced, as Orion sat next to her on the settee, the cushion sighing beneath him. Indeed, whom do we know who hates both of us this much? She gestured broadly with her comb. Orion tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling, considering the matter. Dare I bring it up? Is Evluin here? No, I told her to leave for the evening. Orion nodded. Crown Prince Benjamir. Tari eyed him, because he controls the honor guards? But His Majesty King Peter said the ruffians were not real soldiers. They had attacked and knocked out the gate guards and took their place for the attack. Orion itched to unsheathe a weapon. The memory of the thug holding the sword to Tari's neck would haunt him for nights to come. Have you not noticed the unease he displays towards us? Tari was quiet for a moment and stared at the tea table in front of them. I have, she finally admitted. I hoped I was being paranoid. What else raised your suspicions? His conduct with my transfer. It was no accident that King Selren recommended we play our charade in front of the king and the prince.
Script:
January 17, 1920, the 18th Amendment forbade the manufacture, sale, and transportation of intoxicating liquors. Fueled by a culture of proud heritage, grit, and rebellion, many in the southern United States saw prohibition as an opportunity. Small-town farmers in the southern Appalachia region relied on the production of illegal liquor at home for decades, passing recipes along to the next generation. Because illegal alcohol couldn't be taxed, moonshiners enjoyed high profits, which continued throughout the 50s, 60s, and 70s. To avoid getting caught, men modified their cars to outrun the law as they transported moonshine to points of distribution. Some of those bootleggers were the earliest stock car drivers, who raced in an organization created by Bill France and known Georgia moonshiner Raymond Parks. The organization later became known as NASCAR.
Script:
Soil and roots were, in a sense, what took my attention from the asphalt of Brooklyn to a gravel drive in New Hampshire one October afternoon in 2021. The interstate gave way to country roads lined with white colonial architecture and telephone poles sprouting American flags. The crunch of gravel began at a sign for grass-fed beef beyond the Litchfield town commons. Having grown up outside Athens, Georgia, with a barn at my high school and pasture across the street, I felt something familiar in this drive. I trundled past the odd pig and chicken. If I hadn't been exhilarated by the exchange of my usual city sights for these country tableaus, the area might have seemed dull. The farm I'd come to visit looked like a farm, the land a bit waterlogged after days of rain but otherwise appeared to be regular land. On the contrary, however, it was about to be transformed into something special. I soon spied a couple of dozen folks celebrating on the lower field alongside Merrimack River. They were the only indication that something was different about this place, that it was being cultivated not for profit but for the common good.
Script:
The larynx, or organ of voice, is highly specialized and complex, but before examining its intricate anatomy, let's look at its basic design and function. In simple terms, the larynx is a valve located at the top of the trachea. This valve is composed of two muscles, or folds of muscle, that can be pulled apart or brought together. When we breathe normally, the two muscle folds are drawn apart, opening the valve so that air can pass through. When we swallow food or hold our breath, the muscle folds are tightened and drawn together, closing the valve so that food and water cannot enter the airway.
