Nebraskacore Emojis & Text

BUEHLER, George d 1959 Jul 20, drown; IR 1959 Jul 30

=========================================================================== BUDI. BUDIG. BUDIG, Ray G.; d 1936 Aug, auto accident, Omaha NE; bur McCook; (I88) ===========================================================================

============================================================================== BURDSELL. BURDSELL, J. D.; d Sunday, train accident; WB 1927 Dec 27; =============================================================================

BURROWS, Gurney Edwin, b 1912 Jan 31 Scottsbluff Co NE; IR 1971 Jul 1; .....d 1971 Jun 26, tractor accident, Dundy Co NE; Benkelman cem; IR 1971 Jul 1 pg 12 p: BURROWS, Oliver; m McDONALD, Gertrude m 1946 Sep 8 Paris France

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- BROWN, Arthur; froze to death in last snowstorm; WB 1897 May 13; --------------------------------------------------------------------------

=========================================================================== BUKE. BUKER. BUKER, Della d Monday, farm accident; IR 1959 FEb 26 pg 8 -------------------------------------------------------------------------- BUKER, Guy d Monday, farm accident; IR 1959 Feb 26 pg 8 ================================================================================

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- BROWNING, Alford; d 1915 Mar 17, a4mo; mthc C29-E4; FR; .....d at home of BURTIS, George, Canby Pct, pneumonia; IR 1915 Mar 19; ifa24-5 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

BRUNK, Christian F., b 1874 May 19; r: Grant NE .....d 1928 Jul 29, appendicitis; Grant NE Cem; CCDR (G123) ifc59 m

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago chacde3 Halfway into our trip, the GPS arrival time switched from “Midnight” to “Never.” I was so distracted trying to figure out what it meant, I did not notice the truck veering into my lane.

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧. 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 ༊*·˚

❤ ✞ ❤ Rest in Heavenly Peace ❤ ✞ ❤

Personal Data: Surname: Ray Given Name: Luther Death Date: Age: 5 Town: Publication Data: Source: Grand Prairie Hustler (newspaper) Section: Page: Death Notice Dates: First: Obituary Dates: First: 29 Sep 1904 Additional Information: Notes / Comments: Grand Prairie Hustler, September 29, 1904 Luther Ray, a 5-year-old boy of Pleasant Mount, I. T., was smothered in a wagon load of cotton. He was playing in the wagon and the men not knowing he was there, filled the wagon with cotton.

• Carnahan Glenn William b. 1891 d. 1902 Killed by the train at age 11 •

Owego (New York) Times January 12, 1913 Newark Heights, Dec. 29 - Mr. & Mrs. Elmer Shoultes had the misfortune to lose their little baby girl, ten months old. She had been ill for about a month. The little one suffered terribly, and Christmas Day, died and was buried Friday. The whole family had the sympathy of the neighbourhood. Helen Marie, only child of Mr. & Mrs. Elmer Shoultes, who had been ill for nearly four weeks, died at 1:30 p.m. Christmas Day, of pneumonia. The funeral was held at the house Friday. Interment was at the East Newark Cemetery. The little one was 10 months and 13 days of age. The family had the greatest sympathy of many friends. SOURCE UNKNOWN

r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 min. ago InfamousInspector863 Her heart raced as the caller informed her that her date had died in a car crash earlier that evening. She turned slowly to face the person driving, realizing she was sitting next to a complete stranger.

🇮🇪 MAN CUT IN TWO ON RAILWAY Stephen Folan, who belonged to the Naval Reserve, was found terribly mangled on Sunday morning on the railway line between Craughwell and Athenry. He was returning from a course of naval training at Kinsale, and had £20 in his possession. It is surmised that he left the train at Craughwell, the next station to Athenry, and finding that it had departed on his return, he proceeded to walk along the permanent way to Athenry with a view to catching the Galway train. Apparently he was overtaken by a subsequent train and killed. The Tuam Herald, Saturday, April 3, 1909 Tuam, Co Galway 🇮🇪

https://www.ewtn.com/catholicism/library/truth-about-becky-bell-12000

r/shortscarystories 13 hr. ago S_G_Woodhouse I think I'm losing my head I was driving home after a long day at work. I blinked, and the next thing I knew, I was at home having dinner with my wife and 2 daughters. "What's wrong honey" she asked me. "I don't know. I just feel like I've forgotten something" I replied, confused. Forgot something? It was much worse than that, I had no memory of going home. I reassured her and spent the rest of the evening as normal, re-watching one of my favorite movies. Eventually, I dozed off. I dreamt strange things. I saw myself, having a picnic with my parents. Except they weren't smiling and happy like I remembered them. Instead, they were sitting on the picnic blanket, staring into space, their faces closed and expressionless. No matter how much I shouted at them in my daze, I couldn't see any life left in them; it was as if they were there, without being there. Detached. I woke up in my bed, alone. I looked all over the house, but not only was my wife gone, so were my children. My cell phone line was dead, no service. I went outside to get my car and drive to work, thinking I'd try to call my wife a little later. There was no one on the road but me. It was as if the whole Earth had emptied out. I'd dismissed my detachment last night, but I was seriously beginning to wonder if I was losing my mind. I was lost. I decided to go to my work to see if anyone was still in town, if a national evacuation drill was underway and could explain everything. Once there, I rushed back into the building, hoping to find someone who could explain what was going on. And when I opened the door, I was relieved to see that all my colleagues were there. At last, I could find out what was going on. I walked over to a colleague who over the years had become my best friend. "Hey, what's going on? My family's disappeared and there's nobody left in town," I asked him. He didn't answer. I stepped forward to face him, and discovered to my horror that his face and expression were detached exactly the same as my parents' in my dream. It couldn't be, was I trapped in a nightmare? I tried to talk to everyone, but they were all in the same state. My head hurt, my eyes hurt. I saw lights, and sounds filled my ears even though there was nothing here. Nothing alive. My vision began to narrow. Sounds began to blend together. Blackness. Emptiness. And finally, words I didn't have time to understand came to me for the last time. "The driver is dead, his head was torn off by the impact."

Tʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-Tʀᴇᴀᴛ /sʜᴏʀᴛsᴄᴀʀʏsᴛᴏʀɪᴇs GᴜʏAᴡᴋs Tʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-Tʀᴇᴀᴛ “Is ᴛʜɪs ʏᴏᴜʀ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ, Jᴀɴᴇᴛ? Yᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴏɴ Eᴅᴅʏ ᴀʀᴇ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ!” Mʏ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏᴜʀ Yᴠᴇᴛᴛᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴍs ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴀᴅᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪɴɪsʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʙᴡᴇʙs ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴍɪɴɪᴠᴀɴ’s ᴅɪsᴘʟᴀʏ. Aʟʟ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ ɪs ᴀ sᴇᴀ ᴏғ sɪᴍɪʟᴀʀ Hᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴅᴇᴄᴏʀ ɪɴ ᴄᴀʀ ʙᴏᴏᴛs, ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴀs ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟᴇᴅ ᴀs ʜᴇʀs. “Yᴇs” I ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀ, ᴀᴅᴊᴜsᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʜᴏsᴛ ᴅɪsᴘʟᴀʏ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄᴀʀ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ. “Mʏ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛʏ.” “Oʜ ɪᴛ’s sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇɴɪᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ. Iɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴋɪᴅs ᴅᴏᴏʀ-ᴛᴏ-ᴅᴏᴏʀ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴀɴᴅʏ, ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴀʀs ɪɴ ᴀ ʟᴏᴄᴀʟ ᴄʜᴜʀᴄʜ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋs. Lɪғᴇ’s ᴀʟʟ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀᴅᴀᴘᴛɪɴɢ.” Eᴅᴅʏ ʙᴏʙs ɪɴ ᴇxᴄɪᴛᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴏsᴛᴜᴍᴇ. Eᴀɢᴇʀ, ʜᴇ sᴇᴛs ᴏғғ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ᴛʜᴇ sᴘᴏᴏᴋɪʟʏ ᴅᴇᴄᴏʀᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴍɪɴɪᴠᴀɴs ᴀɴᴅ ᴋɪᴅs ʟɪɴɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ғᴏʀ ᴄᴀɴᴅʏ. “Tʜɪs ᴅᴏᴇs sᴇᴇᴍ ғᴜɴ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪᴅs, Yᴠᴇᴛᴛᴇ” I ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍʏ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏᴜʀ ᴡʜɪʟsᴛ sʜᴇ ᴘᴀssᴇs ᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʜᴏᴄᴏʟᴀᴛᴇs. “Bᴜᴛ ʜᴏᴡ sᴀғᴇ ɪs ᴛʜɪs? Wɪᴛʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀs’ ᴄᴀʀs…” “Hᴏɴᴇʏ, ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ɪs ᴍᴜᴄʜ sᴀғᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ-ᴏʀ- ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ!” sʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀssᴜʀᴇs ᴍᴇ. Sᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ, I ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴄᴀʀ ʙᴏᴏᴛ sʟᴀᴍᴍɪɴɢ sʜᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴ ᴇɴɢɪɴᴇ ʀᴏᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʟɪғᴇ. Tʜᴇ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ SUV ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ ɪᴍᴍᴇᴅɪᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ʙᴇɢɪɴs ʀᴀᴄɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʏ. Eᴅᴅʏ ɪs ɴᴏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴇᴇɴ. “Hᴇʏ!” I sᴄʀᴇᴀᴍ. Eᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ sᴘɪɴs ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ I’ᴍ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ SUV ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛɪɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡs ᴇʀʀᴀᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ. Wɪᴛʜ ᴀ sᴄʀᴇᴇᴄʜ ɪᴛ ɢᴏᴇs ᴛᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴜs. Aᴛ ᴏɴᴄᴇ, ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛs ʙᴇɢɪɴ sʜᴏᴜᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɢɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀsᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs ᴠᴀɴ ᴀs ɪᴛ ғʟᴇᴇs, ᴀʟʟ ᴡʜɪʟsᴛ ғʀᴀɴᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ᴀʀᴇ sᴀғᴇ. “Is ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴍɪssɪɴɢ?!” Aᴍɪᴅsᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɴɪᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀᴏs, I ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ Eᴅᴅʏ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ. I ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ɪɴ ʀᴇʟɪᴇғ ᴀɴᴅ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴀ ʙɪɢ ʜᴜɢ. “Aʟʟ ᴅᴏɴᴇ—ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴɢ” ʜᴇ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ғɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜʟʏ. I sᴍɪʟᴇ ᴀ ғɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜ sᴍɪʟᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ. Tʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴇᴘᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴠᴀɴ, ᴅʀɪᴠᴇɴ ʙʏ ᴍʏ ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ, ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛ ᴅɪsᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. Iᴛ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴍʏ sᴏɴ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴀᴡʟ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀs ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙʀᴀᴋᴇ ʟɪɴᴇs. Tᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ʜᴇʟᴘʟᴇss ғᴀᴍɪʟɪᴇs ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʟʟ ғɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍsᴇʟᴠᴇs sᴍᴀsʜɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʀᴇᴇs ɪɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴅɪɢɢɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ sᴡᴇᴇᴛs.

ᔆᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᴬᵈʳⁱᵃⁿ ᴹᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡ ⁵ ᴹᵃʳᶜʰ ³⁰⁸ ᴾʳᵒᶠⁱˡᵉ ᵀʳᵃᵛᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴮᵃᵗᵃⁿᵉᵃ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵉˢᵃʳᵉᵃ ⁱⁿ ᴾᵃˡᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵉ ʷʰⁱˡᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐⁱⁿⁱˢᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗⁱᵃⁿˢ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴹᵃʳᵗʸʳᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᴱᵘᵇᵘˡᵘˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵉᶜᵘᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᴳᵒᵛᵉʳⁿᵒʳ ᶠⁱʳᵐⁱˡⁱᵃⁿ‧ ᴰⁱᵉᵈ ᵐᵃʳᵗʸʳᵉᵈ ᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿⁱᶻᵉᵈ ᴾʳᵉ⁻ᶜᵒⁿᵍʳᵉᵍᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ

*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥

🍎 🤍 🍎 🤍 🍎 🤍 🍎 🤍

⬇️ https://www.youtube.com/live/KJzBfXDGo7w?feature=share ⬆️

. #DUDLEY, Sylvester, son of Sylvester & Anna, drowned 14 Jun 1802, age 5

Ennis Chronicle, Co. Clare, Ireland, Thurs 21 Mar 1793 JELLICO Limerick March 20 Last night Mrs. JELLICO confectioner fell into the river and was drowned. Submitted by #I000525

ꗃ┈☦️✝️💕 ·˚ hii !! ✞ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ ✞ ♱ ·˚ ⛪️ -ˋˏ 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆;; 𖦹 ` ⚰️ ·˚ 𝒂𝒈𝒆;; ༊· ˋˏ「 🙏 💒 」𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄;; ␥ 🌅 ° ¡ ± 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓;; 。°˖ " don't abuse urself " ✂---⋆ ł ⎙ ☁️ ┈┈┈┈ ✞ 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒚;; ￤𝒔𝒐𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍𝒔;;

T H R E E L I V E S LOST . —————— (From a Correspondent.) A boating party, consisting of 8, left the town of Kenmare on Sunday last, and proceeded up the river about four miles, when a squall came on, and melancholy to relate, the boat upset and three people (Geoffrey Houlehan, Jeremiah Murphy, and Robert Downing) were drowned. The others saved themselves by clinging to the boat for upwards of an hour and a half, when a small boat from a vessel anchored in the harbour put off and rescued them from their perilous situation. The body of Downing was found the following day. The Cork Examiner, 16 April 1847

BALLINA CHRONICLE Wednesday, July 18, 1849 🇮🇪 DEATH BY DROWNING- Last week Patrick Fitzgerald, a private of the 39th Regiment, while bathing in the Moy, near Foxford, where a detachment of that regiment is stationed at present, was seized with cramps and was drowned before some of his comrades, who were looking on, could render him any assistance. 🇮🇪 BALLINA CHRONICLE Wednesday, July 18, 1849

https://youtu.be/4BJ-YZ6Y7Nk

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- BROWN, E. R.; r: Palisade C. BROWN, Opal, b ca1921; .......badly injured, auto accident, N of Palisade; 1938; (I130) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

ᔆᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᶜᵉᶜⁱˡⁱᵃ ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴ ²² ᴺᵒᵛ ²⁰⁰ ᴿᵒᵐᵉ⸴ ᶜⁱᵗᵗᵃ̀ ᴹᵉᵗʳᵒᵖᵒˡⁱᵗᵃⁿᵃ ᵈⁱ ᴿᵒᵐᵃ ᶜᵃᵖⁱᵗᵃˡᵉ⸴ ᴸᵃᶻⁱᵒ⸴ ᴵᵗᵃˡʸ ᴰᴱᴬᵀᴴ ²² ᴺᵒᵛ ²³⁰ ⁽ᵃᵍᵉᵈ ³⁰⁾ ᴿᵒᵐᵉ⸴ ᶜⁱᵗᵗᵃ̀ ᴹᵉᵗʳᵒᵖᵒˡⁱᵗᵃⁿᵃ ᵈⁱ ᴿᵒᵐᵃ ᶜᵃᵖⁱᵗᵃˡᵉ⸴ ᴸᵃᶻⁱᵒ⸴ ᴵᵗᵃˡʸ ᴮᵁᴿᴵᴬᴸ ᴮᵃˢⁱˡⁱᶜᵃ ᵈⁱ ᔆᵃⁿᵗᵃ ᶜᵉᶜⁱˡⁱᵃ ⁱⁿ ᵀʳᵃˢᵗᵉᵛᵉʳᵉ ᴿᵒᵐᵉ⸴ ᶜⁱᵗᵗᵃ̀ ᴹᵉᵗʳᵒᵖᵒˡⁱᵗᵃⁿᵃ ᵈⁱ ᴿᵒᵐᵃ ᶜᵃᵖⁱᵗᵃˡᵉ⸴ ᴸᵃᶻⁱᵒ⸴ ᴵᵗᵃˡʸ ᴾᴸᴼᵀ ᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵃˡᵗᵃʳ ᴿᵒᵐᵃⁿ ᴹᵃʳᵗʸʳ‧ ᴾᵃᵗʳᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ⁱˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᶠᵃᵐᵒᵘˢ ᴿᵒᵐᵃⁿ ᵐᵃʳᵗʸʳˢ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵇᵒʳⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ²ⁿᵈ ᵒʳ ³ʳᵈ ᶜᵉⁿᵗᵘʳʸ ᴬ‧ᴰ‧ ᴬᶜᶜᵒʳᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ⁵ᵗʰ ᶜᵉⁿᵗᵘʳʸ ˡᵉᵍᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᶜᵉᶜⁱˡⁱᵃ ʷᵃˢ ᵃ ⁿᵒᵇˡᵉ ʷᵒᵐᵃⁿ ʷʰᵒ⸴ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ⸴ ᵛᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵛⁱʳᵍⁱⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ᴳᵒᵈ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃʳʳʸ ᔆᵗ‧ ⱽᵃˡᵉʳⁱᵃⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ʷᵃˢ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵍᵃⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ʰᵉᵃᵛᵉⁿˡʸ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ⱽᵃˡᵉʳⁱᵃⁿ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᵍᵉˡ ᵒᶠ ᴳᵒᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵛⁱʳᵍⁱⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ʷⁱˢʰ ⁱᶠ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵍᵉˡ‧ ᶜᵉᶜⁱˡⁱᵃ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵍᵉˡ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᵖᵗⁱᶻᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴾᵒᵖᵉ ᵁʳᵇᵃⁿ‧ ᴼⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵃʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᴮᵃᵖᵗⁱᶻᵉᵈ⸴ ⱽᵃˡᵉʳⁱᵃⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᶜᵉᶜⁱˡⁱᵃ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵍᵉˡ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢᵘᶜᶜᵉˢˢᶠᵘˡ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⱽᵃˡᵉʳⁱᵃⁿ'ˢ ᵇʳᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ᔆᵗ‧ ᵀⁱᵇᵘʳᵗⁱᵘˢ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢᵃʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵍᵉˡ‧ ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵐᵉⁿ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵐᵃʳᵗʸʳᵉᵈ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ‧ ᶜᵉᶜⁱˡⁱᵃ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗⁱᵃⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵖᵒˢˢᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵒᵒʳ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᵉⁿʳᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵛᵉʳⁿᵒʳ ᵀᵘʳᶜⁱᵘˢ ᴬˡᵐᵃᶜʰⁱᵘˢ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᵒʳᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵘʳⁿ ʰᵉʳ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵒʳᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵉʰᵉᵃᵈᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ⸴ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰʳᵉᵉ ˢᵗʳⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉᶜᵏ ᵇʸ ᵃ ˢʷᵒʳᵈ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵛᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃᵈ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉˣᵉᶜᵘᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉʳ ʳᵃⁿ ᵃʷᵃʸ⸴ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵉᶜⁱˡⁱᵃ ᵐᵒʳᵗᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰʳᵉᵉ ᵈᵃʸˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵒᵖᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉʳᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵃ ᶜʰᵘʳᶜʰ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᴮᵃˢⁱˡⁱᶜᵃ ᵈⁱ ᔆᵃⁿᵗᵃ ᶜᵉᶜⁱˡⁱᵃ ʷᵃˢ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁵ᵗʰ ᶜᵉⁿᵗᵘʳʸ ⁱⁿ ᴿᵒᵐᵉ⸴ ᴵᵗᵃˡʸ‧ ᔆᵗ‧ ᶜᵉᶜⁱˡⁱᵃ ʷᵃˢ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵗᵃᶜᵒᵐᵇˢ ᵒᶠ ᔆᵗ‧ ᶜᵃˡⁱˣᵗᵘˢ‧ ᴾᵒᵖᵉ ᴾᵃˢᶜʰᵃˡ ᴵ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ʳᵉᵇᵘⁱˡᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᶜʰᵘʳᶜʰ ⁱⁿ ⁸²¹ ᴬ‧ᴰ‧⸴ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᶜʳʸᵖᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘʳᶜʰ‧ ᴵᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᔆᵗ‧ ⱽᵃˡᵉʳⁱᵃⁿ‧ ᴴᵉʳ ᶠᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵈᵃʸ ⁱˢ ᴺᵒᵛᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ²²‧

ᴶᵃᶜᵏ ᴬ ᴬᵇᵇᵒᵗᵗ ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴ ²⁴ ᴬᵘᵍ ¹⁹⁵⁹ ⱽⁱʳᵍⁱⁿⁱᵃ⸴ ᵁᔆᴬ ᴰᴱᴬᵀᴴ ¹³ ᴼᶜᵗ ¹⁹⁶² ⁽ᵃᵍᵉᵈ ³⁾ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵈʳᵒʷⁿⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵗʰᵗᵘᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵃˡ ᵇˡᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵃⁿ ᴹᵃᵗᵉᵒ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗʸ⸴ ᶜᵃˡⁱᶠᵒʳⁿⁱᵃ⸴ ᵁᔆᴬ ᴮᵁᴿᴵᴬᴸ ᴴᵒˡʸ ᶜʳᵒˢˢ ᶜᵃᵗʰᵒˡⁱᶜ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᶜᵒˡᵐᵃ⸴ ᔆᵃⁿ ᴹᵃᵗᵉᵒ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗʸ⸴ ᶜᵃˡⁱᶠᵒʳⁿⁱᵃ⸴ ᵁᔆᴬ

BALLINA CHRONICLE Wednesday, July 25, 1849 🇮🇪 HORRIBLE- A CHILD PARTIALLY EATEN BY PIGS- On Monday an inquest was held by T. Izod, Esq., coroner, in the churchyard of Clonamery, near Innistioge, on the body of a child four months old, belonging to a farmer named Richard Mylott, of Coolnamuck, which met its death on Thursday evening, under the following circumstances. It appeared in evidence that Mrs. Mylott put the child to sleep in a cradle in the kitchen, and leaving to mind it another child aged nine years, went out to assist her husband who was engaged in trenching potatoes. In a few minutes she heard the eldest child scream in great alarm, and on running to the house she found that two pigs had got into the kitchen, taken the infant out of the cradle, and were then dragging its body each from the other, and tearing it with the utmost ferocity, the voracious brutes being stained up to the eyes with blood. Life was not at the time quite extinct, but the unfortunate infant was soon after released from its sufferings.-- Kilkenny Moderator. 🇮🇪 BALLINA CHRONICLE Wednesday, July 25, 1849

Prayer Before a Dance or Party: Dear Saint Maria Goretti! The world teaches that we must please others in order to be popular. Conscience demands that I please God more than one who asks an evil thing in the name of false love. Teach me by your example to instill into others a real respect for modesty and purity. Through your powerful intercession, help me to make of this evening an occasion for helping others to become spiritually stronger. Grant that others may see in me reason to change their ways, if that be necessary, and that I may have the courage to resist any temptation to sinful conduct. Let others be led closer to Jesus and Mary by my example. Oh Little Saint who wanted to be popular only with your Divine Master and His Blessed Mother, help me to imitate you. Amen. *Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory be to the Father, etc.* St. Maria Goretti, pray for us!

ᴱᵘᵖʰᵉᵐⁱᵃ ⁽ᵗʸᵖⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᵃᵇᵇʳᵉᵛⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ "ᴱᶠᶠⁱᵉ"⁾ ᴰⁱᵉᵈ ᶜʰᵃˡᶜᵉᵈᵒⁿ⸴ ᴮⁱᵗʰʸⁿⁱᵃ ⱽᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᴿᵒᵐᵃⁿ ᶜᵃᵗʰᵒˡⁱᶜ ᶜʰᵘʳᶜʰ⸴ ᴼʳᵗʰᵒᵈᵒˣ ᶜʰᵘʳᶜʰ⸴ ᴾʳᵒᵗᵉˢᵗᵃⁿᵗ ᶜʰᵘʳᶜʰᵉˢ ᴹᵃʲᵒʳ ˢʰʳⁱⁿᵉ ᔆᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᴱᵘᵖʰᵉᵐⁱᵃ'ˢ ᵇᵃˢⁱˡⁱᶜᵃ⸴ ᴿᵒᵛⁱⁿʲ⸴ ᶜʳᵒᵃᵗⁱᵃ ᔆᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᴱᵘᵖʰᵉᵐⁱᵃ ⁽ᵛⁱʳᵍⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹᵃʳᵗʸʳ⁾"ʷᵉˡˡ⁻ˢᵖᵒᵏᵉⁿ [ᵒᶠ]"⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁿ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᴬˡˡ⁻ᵖʳᵃⁱˢᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᴼʳᵗʰᵒᵈᵒˣ ᶜʰᵘʳᶜʰ⸴ ⁱˢ ᵃ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗⁱᵃⁿ ˢᵃⁱⁿᵗ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ʷᵃˢ ᵐᵃʳᵗʸʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵃⁱᵗʰ ⁱⁿ ³⁰³ ᴬᴰ‧ ᴬᶜᶜᵒʳᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗⁱᵃⁿ ᵗʳᵃᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵒᶜᶜᵘʳʳᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᶜʰᵃˡᶜᵉᵈᵒⁿ‧ ᴬᶜᶜᵒʳᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳᵃᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ᴱᵘᵖʰᵉᵐⁱᵃ ʷᵃˢ ᵃʳʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʳᵉᶠᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳ ˢᵃᶜʳⁱᶠⁱᶜᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᴬʳᵉˢ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵘᶠᶠᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵛᵃʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵗᵒʳᵗᵘʳᵉˢ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵉⁿᵃ ᵃᵗ ᶜʰᵃˡᶜᵉᵈᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ ˢᵘˢᵗᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃ ˡⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴴᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵐᵇ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵖⁱˡᵍʳⁱᵐᵃᵍᵉˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉᵐᵒʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᔆᵉᵖᵗᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ¹⁶‧ ᴱᵘᵖʰᵉᵐⁱᵃ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ˢᵉⁿᵃᵗᵒʳ ⁿᵃᵐᵉᵈ ᴾʰⁱˡᵒᵖʰʳᵒⁿᵒˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵀʰᵉᵒᵈᵒˢⁱᵃ ⁱⁿ ᶜʰᵃˡᶜᵉᵈᵒⁿ⸴ ˡᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵃᶜʳᵒˢˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᴮᵒˢᵖᵒʳᵘˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜⁱᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ᴮʸᶻᵃⁿᵗⁱᵘᵐ ⁽ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ˡᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵗᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵒᵖˡᵉ⸴ ᵐᵒᵈᵉʳⁿ⁻ᵈᵃʸ ᴵˢᵗᵃⁿᵇᵘˡ⁾‧ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘᵗʰ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵉᶜʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵛⁱʳᵍⁱⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵛᵉʳⁿᵒʳ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰᵃˡᶜᵉᵈᵒⁿ⸴ ᴾʳⁱˢᶜᵘˢ⸴ ʰᵃᵈ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵃ ᵈᵉᶜʳᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿʰᵃᵇⁱᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜⁱᵗʸ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ⁱⁿ ˢᵃᶜʳⁱᶠⁱᶜᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵍᵃⁿ ᵈᵉⁱᵗʸ ᴬʳᵉˢ‧ ᴱᵘᵖʰᵉᵐⁱᵃ ʷᵃˢ ᵈⁱˢᶜᵒᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗⁱᵃⁿˢ ʷʰᵒ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʰⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵒʳˢʰⁱᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗⁱᵃⁿ ᴳᵒᵈ⸴ ⁱⁿ ᵈᵉᶠⁱᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵛᵉʳⁿᵒʳ'ˢ ᵒʳᵈᵉʳˢ‧ ᴮᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʳᵉᶠᵘˢᵃˡ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃᶜʳⁱᶠⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗᵒʳᵗᵘʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵃʸˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʰᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴱᵐᵖᵉʳᵒʳ ᶠᵒʳ ᶠᵘʳᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒʳᵗᵘʳᵉ‧ ᴬˡˡ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗⁱᵃⁿˢ ˢᵃᶜʳⁱᶠⁱᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴬʳᵉˢ‧ ᴱᵘᵖʰᵉᵐⁱᵃ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍᵉˢᵗ ᵃᵐᵒⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵉᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃⁿⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵘᵇʲᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁱᶜᵘˡᵃʳˡʸ ʰᵃʳˢʰ ᵗᵒʳᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ⁱⁿᶜˡᵘᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰᵉᵉˡ⸴ ⁱⁿ ʰᵒᵖᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵖⁱʳⁱᵗ‧ ᴵᵗ ⁱˢ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ʷᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃ ʷⁱˡᵈ ᵇᵉᵃʳ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵉⁿᵃ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵉᵐᵖᵉʳᵒʳ ᴰⁱᵒᶜˡᵉᵗⁱᵃⁿ ⁽²⁸⁴⁻³⁰⁵⁾‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ⸴ ᵃ ᵐᵃᵍⁿⁱᶠⁱᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᶜᵃᵗʰᵉᵈʳᵃˡ ʷᵃˢ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵗ ⁱⁿ ᶜʰᵃˡᶜᵉᵈᵒⁿ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉʳ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ‧ ᴹⁱʳᵃᶜˡᵉ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᶜⁱˡ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰᵃˡᶜᵉᵈᵒⁿ ᵀʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᶜⁱˡ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰᵃˡᶜᵉᵈᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒᵘʳᵗʰ ᴱᶜᵘᵐᵉⁿⁱᶜᵃˡ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᶜⁱˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗⁱᵃⁿ ᶜʰᵘʳᶜʰ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜⁱᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰᵃˡᶜᵉᵈᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳ ⁴⁵¹‧ ᴵᵗ ʳᵉᵖᵘᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᴱᵘᵗʸᶜʰⁱᵃⁿ ᵈᵒᶜᵗʳⁱⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵒⁿᵒᵖʰʸˢⁱᵗⁱˢᵐ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉᵗ ᶠᵒʳᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵃˡᶜᵉᵈᵒⁿⁱᵃⁿ ᶜʳᵉᵉᵈ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᵈᵉˢᶜʳⁱᵇᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ "ᶠᵘˡˡ ʰᵘᵐᵃⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵘˡˡ ᵈⁱᵛⁱⁿⁱᵗʸ" ᵒᶠ ᴶᵉˢᵘˢ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᔆᵉᶜᵒⁿᵈ ᴾᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᴴᵒˡʸ ᵀʳⁱⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᶜⁱˡ ˢᵃᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵗʰᵉᵈʳᵃˡ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵉᶜʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴾʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᶜⁱˡ ʷᵉʳᵉ ⁶³⁰ ʳᵉᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᶜᵃˡ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗⁱᵃⁿ ᶜʰᵘʳᶜʰᵉˢ‧ ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᴹᵒⁿᵒᵖʰʸˢⁱᵗᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴼʳᵗʰᵒᵈᵒˣ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁱᵉˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉˡˡ⁻ʳᵉᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᶜⁱˡ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵉᵗⁱⁿᵍˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒᵘˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒ ᵈᵉᶜⁱˢⁱᵛᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵉⁿˢᵘˢ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ‧ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᵃʳᶜʰ ᴬⁿᵃᵗᵒˡⁱᵘˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵗᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵒᵖˡᵉ ˢᵘᵍᵍᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᶜⁱˡ ˢᵘᵇᵐⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᶜⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴴᵒˡʸ ᔆᵖⁱʳⁱᵗ⸴ ᵃᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᔆᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᴱᵘᵖʰᵉᵐⁱᵃ‧ ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁱᵉˢ ʷʳᵒᵗᵉ ᵃ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᶠᵃⁱᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᴱᵘᵖʰᵉᵐⁱᵃ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵉᵃˡᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵐᵖᵉʳᵒʳ ᴹᵃʳᶜⁱᵃⁿ ⁽⁴⁵⁰⁻⁴⁵⁷⁾⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᵐᵖᵉʳⁱᵃˡ ˢᵉᵃˡ ᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰʳᵉᵉ ᵈᵃʸˢ‧ ᴰᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᵈᵃʸˢ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ˢⁱᵈᵉˢ ᶠᵃˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖʳᵃʸᵉᵈ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰʳᵉᵉ ᵈᵃʸˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇ ʷᵃˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᴼʳᵗʰᵒᵈᵒˣ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵉᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᔆᵗ ᴱᵘᵖʰᵉᵐⁱᵃ ʷʰⁱˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᴹᵒⁿᵒᵖʰʸˢⁱᵗᵉˢ ˡᵃʸ ᵃᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ‧ ᵀʰⁱˢ ᵐⁱʳᵃᶜˡᵉ ⁱˢ ᵃᵗᵗᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵃ ˡᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ˢᵉⁿᵗ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᶜⁱˡ ᵗᵒ ᴾᵒᵖᵉ ᴸᵉᵒ ᴵ⠘ "ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᴳᵒᵈ ʷʰᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵘᵐᵖʰᵃⁿᵗ ᴱᵘᵖʰᵉᵐⁱᵃ ʷʰᵒ ᶜʳᵒʷⁿᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵉᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵇʳⁱᵈᵃˡ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵒ⸴ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘʳ ᵈᵉᶠⁱⁿⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃⁱᵗʰ ᵃˢ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ᴮʳⁱᵈᵉᵍʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵇʸ ᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ʳᵉˡⁱᵍⁱᵒᵘˢ ᴱᵐᵖᵉʳᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗ⁻ˡᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᴱᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢ⸴ ᵃᵖᵖᵉᵃˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵘᵐᵘˡᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵒᵖᵖᵒⁿᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉˢᵗᵃᵇˡⁱˢʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘʳ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵀʳᵘᵗʰ ᵃˢ ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴴⁱᵐ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒⁿᵍᵘᵉ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᵃˡ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵒᵗᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ ᵃˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵖʳᵒᶜˡᵃᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉᵒᶠ‧" ᴿᵉˡⁱᶜˢ ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵃʳᶜᵒᵖʰᵃᵍᵘˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˡⁱᶜˢ ᵒᶠ ᔆᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᴱᵘᵖʰᵉᵐⁱᵃ ⁱⁿ ᴿᵒᵛⁱⁿʲ⸴ ᶜʳᵒᵃᵗⁱᵃ‧ᴬʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳ ⁶²⁰⸴ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᑫᵘᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰᵃˡᶜᵉᵈᵒⁿ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᴾᵉʳˢⁱᵃⁿˢ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᴷʰᵒˢʳᵃᵘ ᴵ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳ ⁶¹⁷⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˡⁱᶜˢ ᵒᶠ ᔆᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᴱᵘᵖʰᵉᵐᵃ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʳᵃⁿˢᶠᵉʳʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵗᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵉᶜᵘᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᴵᶜᵒⁿᵒᶜˡᵃˢᵗˢ⸴ ʰᵉʳ ʳᵉˡⁱᑫᵘᵃʳʸ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʰʳᵒʷⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᵃ⸴ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰⁱᵖ⁻ᵒʷⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵇʳᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᔆᵉʳᵍⁱᵘˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵉʳᵍᵒⁿᵒˢ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴼʳᵗʰᵒᵈᵒˣ ᵖᵃʳᵗʸ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵒ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᶜᵃˡ ᵇⁱˢʰᵒᵖ ʷʰᵒ ʰⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ᶜʳʸᵖᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ʳᵉˡⁱᶜˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳʷᵃʳᵈˢ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴵˢˡᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᴸᵉᵐⁿᵒˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ⁷⁹⁶ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵗᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᴴᵉʳ ʳᵉˡⁱᶜˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ˡᵃᵗᵉʳ ˢᵗᵒˡᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵘˢᵃᵈᵉʳˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱⁿᵗ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷⁿⁱᵍʰᵗˢ ᵀᵉᵐᵖˡᵃʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵖʳᵉᶜᵉᵖᵗᵒʳʸ ⁱⁿ ᴺⁱᶜᵒˢⁱᵃ ᵒⁿ ᶜʸᵖʳᵘˢ‧ ᵀᵒᵈᵃʸ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃʲᵒʳⁱᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ʳᵉˡⁱᶜˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ ᔆᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᴱᵘᵖʰᵉᵐⁱᵃ'ˢ ᵇᵃˢⁱˡⁱᶜᵃ ⁱⁿ ᴿᵒᵛⁱⁿʲ⸴ ᶜʳᵒᵃᵗⁱᵃ‧ ᶠᵉᵃˢᵗ ᴰᵃʸˢ ᵀʰᵉ ᵖʳⁱᵐᵃʳʸ ᶠᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒᶠ ᔆᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᴱᵘᵖʰᵉᵐⁱᵃ⸴ ᶜᵉˡᵉᵇʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᴱᵃˢᵗᵉʳⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵂᵉˢᵗᵉʳⁿ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗⁱᵃⁿˢ ⁱˢ ᔆᵉᵖᵗᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ¹⁶ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉᵐᵒʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ᵐᵃʳᵗʸʳᵈᵒᵐ‧ ᴬᵈᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ⸴ ᴱᵃˢᵗᵉʳⁿ ᴼʳᵗʰᵒᵈᵒˣ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗⁱᵃⁿˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉᵐᵒʳᵃᵗᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵐⁱʳᵃᶜˡᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᶜⁱˡ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰᵃˡᶜᵉᵈᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ᴶᵘˡʸ ¹¹‧ ᴾᵒᵖᵘˡᵃʳ ᶜᵘˡᵗᵘʳᵉ ᔆᵗ‧ ᴱᵘᵖʰᵉᵐⁱᵃ ⁱˢ ᵃ ʷⁱᵈᵉˡʸ⁻ᵛᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᵃᵐᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ᴱᵃˢᵗᵉʳⁿ ᴼʳᵗʰᵒᵈᵒˣ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗⁱᵃⁿˢ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ᵛⁱʳᵍⁱⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵃʳᵗʸʳᵈᵒᵐ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᴼʳᵗʰᵒᵈᵒˣ ᶠᵃⁱᵗʰ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵈᵃʸˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᶜᵉˡᵉᵇʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡ ˢᵒˡᵉᵐⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᶜʰᵘʳᶜʰᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵒⁿᵒʳ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵉʳᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗⁱᵃⁿ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ‧

BALLINA CHRONICLE Wednesday, July 25, 1849 🇮🇪 AWFUL DEATH- A respectable farmer named Stapleton, who resided at Ballyanny, within a mile of this town, came by his death under the following melancholy circumstances:- On the afternoon of Saturday, while returning from Nenagh, he went to look at his cows which were grazing in a field convenient to his residence, whereupon his bull, whose ferocious nature was aroused by the annoyance of flies and intense heat of the day, rushed fiercely at the ill-fated man, knocking him down, gored his body in a frightful manner and killed him on the spot. When he had not arrived at home on Saturday evening, his wife and family became uneasy, an they caused messengers to go look for him to this town, thinking that he might have delayed with a friend. But they could find no tidings of him. On Sunday morning, as the deceased's wife was going to early mass, she observed the bull coming towards the house, and having blood on his horns, at which sight she was struck with horror. She then faced towards the field, where she found her husband's mutilated body, which was deeply pierced in several parts by the savage animal's horns. On Monday the unfortunate man's remains were followed to their final resting place by an immense number of friends and neighbours.--Nenagh Guardian. 🇮🇪 BALLINA CHRONICLE Wednesday, July 25, 1849

Pᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴍᴀʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴏʀʀᴏʀ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ʀᴇᴀsᴏɴs. Pᴇʀsᴏɴɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ɴᴏɴ-ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ's, ᴘᴇʀsᴘᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ, ᴇᴛᴄ. Tʜᴇʀᴇ's sᴏᴍᴇ ᴄᴏɴsɪᴅᴇʀᴀᴛᴇ ɢᴜɪᴅᴇʟɪɴᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪɴ-ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ. Oғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ, ʜᴏʀʀᴏʀ's ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴄᴀʀʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ғʀɪɢʜᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴀs ᴛᴏ ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴘᴀɴɪᴄ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ. Tʀɪɢɢᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs ᴍᴀʏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴘʟᴏᴛ ᴛᴡɪsᴛ. Hᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴛɪᴘs: ~Pʀᴏғᴀɴɪᴛʏ. Cᴀɴ sᴀʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ 'ᴏʜ ᴅᴇᴀʀ' ᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ. ~Gᴏʀᴇ, ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅɪɴɢ ᴜɴɴᴇᴄᴇssᴀʀʏ ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟ. ~Aɴɪᴍᴀʟs. Cᴀɴ ʙᴇ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ 'ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏɢ ɢʀᴏᴡʟs ᴀᴛ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏғ ɢʜᴏsᴛ' ~Sᴇʟғ ʜᴀʀᴍ, ᴇᴛᴄ. Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ, ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ sᴀᴄʀɪғɪᴄᴇ ᴏɴᴇsᴇʟғ. ~Aʙᴜsᴇ (ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴇxᴘʟᴏɪᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ) ᴀʟᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ɪᴍᴘʟʏ ᴀʙᴅᴜᴄᴛ, ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴ, ᴇᴛᴄ. ~Sᴛᴇʀᴇᴏᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘs (ᴘᴏʀᴛʀᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀɪᴛɪᴇs, ʀᴇʟɪɢɪᴏɴs, ᴄᴜʟᴛᴜʀᴇs, ᴇᴛᴄ. ᴀs ᴅɪsʀᴇsᴘᴇᴄᴛғᴜʟ) Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴜsᴇ (ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴅɪsᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ) ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏᴠᴇʀsɪᴀʟ ᴛᴏᴘɪᴄs (ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛɪᴏɴ, ғᴏᴇᴛɪᴄɪᴅᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ᴇғғᴇᴄᴛ, ᴇᴛᴄ.) ʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ. Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ ᴛᴏᴘɪᴄs (ᴄᴀɴɴɪʙᴀʟ, ʙᴀʙʏ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴs, ᴀᴘᴏᴄᴀʟʏᴘsᴇ, ᴇᴛᴄ.) ɪɴ sᴛᴏʀʏ ɪɴsᴏғᴀʀ ᴀs ɪᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛᴀɪɴs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴏᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏ ɢʟᴏʀɪғʏɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ. Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴀʀʀᴀᴛᴏʀ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠɪʟʟᴀɪɴ, ᴠɪᴄᴛɪᴍ, ᴏʀ ʙʏsᴛᴀɴᴅᴇʀ. Hᴀᴠᴇ ғᴜɴ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴs!

Horror Short Story: The Accident In this horror short story, a man tries to cope with what he has done. Written by: Reddit user Minnboy Halverson sat in his dark living room. He hadn’t moved for over an hour. The accident earlier that evening kept playing over and over in his mind. The light turned red, but he was in a hurry and accelerated. An orange blur came from his right and in a split second there was a violent jolt, then the bicyclist rolled across his hood and fell out of sight on the pavement. Horns blared angrily and he panicked, stepping on the gas and screeching away from the chaos into the darkness, shaken and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror until he got home. Why did you run, you fool? He’d never committed a crime before this and punished himself by imagining years in jail, his career gone, his family gone, his future gone. Why not just go to the police right now? Then someone tapped on the front door and his world suddenly crumbled away beneath him. They found me. There was nothing he could do but answer it. Running would only make matters worse. Trembling, he got up, went to the door and opened it. A police officer stood under the porch light. “Mr. Halverson?” asked the grim officer. He let out a defeated sigh. “Yes. Let me —”I am terribly sorry, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your son’s bike was struck by a hit and run driver this evening. He died at the scene. I’m very sorry for your loss.

ᔆᵉʳᵉⁿᵉˡˡⁱ ᴿʰʸᵐᵉˢ⠘ ⁻ɛˡⁱ ᔆᵉʳᵉⁿᵉˡˡⁱ ⁱˢ ᵃ ˢᵘʳⁿᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᵂᵉˡˡ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁿ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢᵃᵏᵉˢ‧‧ ⁻ᴳⁱᵃⁿᶜᵃʳˡᵒ "ᴳᵃᵗᵒ" ᔆᵉʳᵉⁿᵉˡˡⁱ ᴾᵉˡˡᵉᶜʰⁱᵃ ⁽ᵇᵒʳⁿ ¹⁰ ᴶᵘˡʸ ¹⁹⁸¹ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵃʳᵃᶜᵃˢ⁾ ⁱˢ ᵃ ⱽᵉⁿᵉᶻᵘᵉˡᵃⁿ ʳᵃᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉʳ‧ ⁻ᴬˡᵉˢˢᵃⁿᵈʳᵒ ᔆᵉʳᵉⁿᵉˡˡⁱ⸴ ᴼᶠᴹ ᶜᵃᵖ‧ ⁽² ᴶᵘⁿᵉ ¹⁸⁸² – ⁶ ᴹᵃʸ ¹⁹⁷⁰⁾ ʷʳᵒᵗᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ᴹᵃʸ ⁵⸴ ¹⁹⁶¹ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵇᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴹᵃʳⁱᵃ ᴳᵒʳᵉᵗᵗⁱ ᴾʰᵒⁿᵉᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᔆⁱᵐⁱˡᵃʳ ᴺᵃᵐᵉˢ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ ᔆⁱᵐⁱˡᵃʳⁱᵗʸ ᔆᵉʳⁱⁿᵉˡˡⁱ ⁸⁹ ᔆᵉʳᵃⁿᵉˡˡⁱ ⁸⁹ ᶜᵉʳᵉⁿᵉˡˡⁱ ⁸⁹ ᔆᵉʳᵉⁿᵉˡˡʸ ⁸⁹ ᔆᵉʳᵉⁿⁱˡˡˡᵃ ⁷⁴ ᔆᵉ́ʳᵉ́ⁿᵉˡˡᵃ ⁶⁷ ᶻᵃʳᵃⁿᵉˡˡⁱ ⁶⁷

ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃ ᵀᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᵀᵒᵘʳⁱˢᵗ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʳⁱᶜʰ ʳᵉᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰⁱˢ ᵀʳᵃⁱˡ ⁱˢ ᵃ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵃˣ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵈᵐⁱʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ ᴾʳᵉˢⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ ᴶᵒʰⁿ ᶠ‧ ᴷᵉⁿⁿᵉᵈʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ “ᴬ ⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡˢ ⁱᵗˢᵉˡᶠ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʰᵒⁿᵒʳˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳˢ‧” ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵍᵉⁿᵉᵃˡᵒᵍʸ⸴ ᶜˡᵃˢˢ⸴ ʳᵉˡⁱᵍⁱᵒⁿ ᵃˡˡ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴺᵒʷ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ‘ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ’ ᵃ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒⁿ ˡⁱⁿᵉ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡᵉ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ˢᵗʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵃ ʷⁱⁿᵈʸ ᵃᵘᵗᵘᵐⁿᵃˡ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ⸴ ˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳ’ˢ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ⁱᶠ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ᶠⁱⁿᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵖ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˡᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉ ᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳ’ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡ ʳᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵉᵗ⸴ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒ⸴ ᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵗᵉˢ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵈᵃᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ‧ᶜᵒᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ᶜᵒᵐ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ; ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵘʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴰᵃⁿ ᵂⁱˡˢᵒⁿ⠘ ᴵ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵒˡˡᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵃʳᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴬ ˡᵒᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵈᵒ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵃˡ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘˢᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ⸴ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉˢ⸴ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵏⁱⁿᵈˢ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵘᶠᶠ ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʰᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ ᴬˡᵒʸˢⁱᵘˢ⸴ ᴱᵈʷⁱⁿᵃ⸴ ⱽⁱᶜᵗᵒʳⁱᵃ⸴ ᴺᵃᵗʰᵃⁿⁱᵃˡ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˡ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᶜʰᵃʳᵐⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵉᵗ ᵒˡᵈ ᶠᵃˢʰⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴬˢ ᴵ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵍᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʷʰᵒˢᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ‧ ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ? ᴰⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ? ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ? ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ˡⁱᶠᵉ? ᴬⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵖⁱᵗᵃᵖʰˢ⠘ ᴰᵉᵃʳ ᴮʳᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴬᵘⁿᵗ⸴ ᴮᵉˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵂⁱᶠᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴼᵘʳ ᴮᵃᵇʸ – ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵃᵗ⸴ ʸᵉˢ⸴ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ‧ ᔆᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗˢ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ⁵⁰ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ⸴ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ⸴ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ʷʰᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʷᵉ ᵒʷᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ‧ ᵀʰⁱˢ ᵃᵖᵖˡⁱᵉˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᴵⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵉᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱᵛᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵉᵃˢⁱᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ʸᵒᵘ’ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧

Horror Short Story: The Accident In this horror short story, a man tries to cope with what he has done. Written by: Reddit user Minnboy Halverson sat in his dark living room. He hadn’t moved for over an hour. The accident earlier that evening kept playing over and over in his mind. The light turned red, but he was in a hurry and accelerated. An orange blur came from his right and in a split second there was a violent jolt, then the bicyclist rolled across his hood and fell out of sight on the pavement. Horns blared angrily and he panicked, stepping on the gas and screeching away from the chaos into the darkness, shaken and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror until he got home. Why did you run? He’d never committed a crime before this and punished himself by imagining years in jail, his career gone, his family gone, his future gone. Why not just go to the police right now? Then someone tapped on the front door and his world suddenly crumbled away beneath him. They found me. There was nothing he could do but answer it. Running would only make matters worse. Trembling, he got up, went to the door and opened it. A police officer stood under the porch light. “Mr. Halverson?” asked the grim officer. He let out a defeated sigh. “Yes. Let me —”I am terribly sorry, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your son’s bike was struck by a hit and run driver this evening. He died at the scene. I’m very sorry for your loss..."

༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ LOVING MEMORY ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻

ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ; ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ? ᴾᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ? ᴹᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ? ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵃ ʳᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ ᴴᵉʳᵉ ˡⁱᵉˢ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ¹⁹ˣˣ⁻? ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ? ᴵ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᶠᵃⁿᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ‧‧‧ ᵂᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᵖᵃ ᵇᵒʳⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳ? ᴴᵒʷ ᵈⁱᵈ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ? ᵂᵃˢ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ˢᵃᵗⁱˢᶠⁱᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ᶠᵘˡᶠⁱˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ? ᵂᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ⸴ ᵒʳ ʷᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳˢᵉᵉⁿ? ᵂʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴵ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᴵ ᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳᵇʸ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢ; ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧ ᴰʳʸ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢ ᶜʳᵘⁿᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᴵ ʷᵃˡᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒʷ‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵇʳᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵉʷ; ᵒʰ⸴ ⁱᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ ²⁰ˣˣ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᴬᵐᵃᵇᵉˡ; ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ! ᴬᵐᵃᵇᵉˡ‧‧‧ ᴿⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ‽ ᴬ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ˢʰᵃᵖᵉᵈ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ‧‧‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ? ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵃⁿʸ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ? ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ‧ ᴬʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒˢᵉˢ ᵃʳᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜⁱᵃˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵒ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ‧‧‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵒᵘʳˢ! ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘˢʰ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃ ˢᵃᶜʳᵉᵈ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᴵ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴬˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᴬ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳ‧ ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ’ᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳⁱˡʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡ ˢᵉʳᵛⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᴬ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ⁱˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒⁿˢ ʷʰʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵈᵒ‧ ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ? ᴰᵒ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵒᵈᵈ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ? ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵖⁱᵗᵃᵖʰˢ? ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵛᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ʷʳᵉⁿᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵍˡⁱᵐᵖˢᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ’ˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ⸴ “ᴮᵉˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗ ᴬⁿᵍᵉˡ”‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵇᵒʳⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴰⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ⸴ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ˢᵖᵒᵘˢᵉ? ᵂᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉʳᵛⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃʳᵗⁱˢᵗ⸴ ᵃ ᵖᵒᵉᵗ? ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵒʳⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵈᵉᶜᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ʷᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ ᵗᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴿᵉᵐⁿᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳʸᵉᵃʳ‧ ᴬ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈʳᵃʷˢ ʸᵒᵘ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ᶜᵃʳᵛᵉᵈ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱʳᵒⁿ‧ ᴹᵘᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵍᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵃˢ‧ ᴿᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ⸴ ᵉⁿᵈˡᵉˢˢˡʸ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴰᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵐᵖˡᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵗᵃⁿᵍˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵃʳᵇˡᵉ ᵒʳ ᵃⁿ ᵉˡᵃᵇᵒʳᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᶜʰⁱˢᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵍᵉˡ? ᴬʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ? ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿʰᵃᵇⁱᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ? ᴾʳᵒᶠᵉˢˢᵒʳ ᴰᵃᵛⁱᵉˢ ˢᵃʸˢ ʰᵉʳ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈˢ ˡᵉᵃⁿˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗᵒʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇⁱᵇˡⁱᵒᵖʰⁱˡⁱᵃ ⁽ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ⁾ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ⁿᵉᶜʳᵒᵖʰⁱˡⁱᵃ “ᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵉᑫᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍʳᵒˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵐᵒʳᵇⁱᵈ ᵈᵉʳᵃⁿᵍᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧” ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉʲᵉᶜᵗˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉʳᵐ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵃⁿ‧ ᴵᵗ’ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒʳᵍᵃⁿⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ⸴ ʳᵉˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒᶜᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᶠʳᵃᵍⁱˡᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉˢ‧ ᴱᵃᶜʰ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿⁱᑫᵘᵉˡʸ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴬ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ᵇʸ ᵈᵉᶠⁱⁿⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁱˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃʳʸ ᵗʳᵃᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ‧ ᵀᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍʰᵒᵘˡⁱˢʰ ᶠᵒˡᵏˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵒᵇˢᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿˢ‧ ᴵⁿ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵖᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵉ‧ ᵀᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵘᵃˡˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ’ˢ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵐᵃᶻⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴮᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ‧ ᴵᶠ ᵃ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵉˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ‧ ᴰᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ˢⁱᵗ ᵒʳ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵐᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᴬˢᵏ ᵖᵉʳᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ʳᵘᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ; ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᵃʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ‧ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵃˡˡ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ‧

ᴾᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷᵉ ᵇᵃᵈᵉ ᶠᵃʳᵉʷᵉˡˡ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵛᵃʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ʷᵃˡᵏˢ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱᶠᵉ‧‧‧ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᴱᵃᶜʰ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁱˢ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡ‧ ᴱᵛᵉʳʸ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿⁱᑫᵘᵉ‧ ᴺᵒ ᵗʷᵒ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ʷⁱˢʰ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ʰᵉᵃᵈˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʳᵉᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗ‧

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