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Monday, December 30, 2013

From Twitter DarrellWolfe December 30, 2013 at 09:57PM

"Here are My 6 Biggest Small Business Lessons of 2013 | Handmadeology" http://t.co/4HrjrNYt1a #blogging



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December 30, 2013 at 09:57PM

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Thursday, December 26, 2013

Monday, December 23, 2013

How an Grumpy Old Man gave me perspective on life

Old Yeller

Unfortunately I'm not talking about the dog. I'm going to have to remember to get my camera out when I see this stuff in the future. Allow me to set the stage. I'm in a Pilot Gas station, in line to pay for my gas.

(Rabbit Trail: I always like to go inside because then I can guarantee the amount that will show pending on my account where-as the pump likes to pend for $1 and then post for the correct amount later.) (Also this video posted here isn't of the event I witnessed because I didn't have my camera there, but I thought it was funny so I thought I'd share it in good humor, lol) Anyhow...

I'm watching and listening to this old man yell at this cashier about what kind of rewards points they give on their Pilot myRewards Card. He's so irate that the other cashier starts to talk with him and explain things. The manager comes out and trying to explain things. He just keeps repeating himself over and over as if these people getting paid $6.25 an hour had anything to do with the person who told him the wrong info two years earlier or the Rewards Program itself and had the ability to instantly change it to be the way he thought he heard some person half explain it once 2 years ago. His primary complaint is that he's been using this card and stopping primarily at Pilot for 2 years and didn't get the points he thought he was getting.

It get's better...

Just when you start to think there's nothing more to say he says (and I paraphrase): "Don't you get it, you lied to your customer, you lied when you sold me this Rewards Card, you lied, you can't lie to your customer, you can't lie... You're just like Obama... You lie and lie and think you can get away with it..." and then I think he nearly started to cry or maybe he was gearing up for another round of verbal abuse, I'm not sure I paid by that point and had to go. The clerk helping me (who had been yelled at by this guy minutes before) and I were both feet away from Old Yeller and when I heard him start to bring up Obama I started to laugh out loud and the clerk saw me laugh and he almost laughed... It was a moment...

The Lessons

I've thought about this guy for nearly two months now. I wish I could say that I had the presence of mind to prayerfully address him head on and calm the situation and bring peace to the situation and show this man that he wasn't really mad about Rewards... But all I did was laugh to myself, partially out loud, and leave and ponder the lessons we could learn from him.You see I think there are some things we could learn from him.

Personal Growth:
If I were Him, I could learn:

  1. He was taking his frustration about a rewards card out on people that couldn't do anything to fix it. 
    1. Am I guilty of abusing someone, even behind their back, for something that was really a situation created by people above them?
  2. He was allowing himself to be upset about "buying" a "free rewards" card. It's FREE. 
    1. Who cares how they sold it, you didn't pay for it. 
    2. Find out how it does work and move on.
    3. You are losing your peace over this? Really? This could be a sign that fear and money are your god now... watch it!
  3. Just like Obama... NOW we see the real issue. 
    1. You are powerless over the direction of this country. A worldly leader has caused you direct and/or indirect harm (imagine that, politicians making bad decisions, who ever heard of such a thing) and you can't do anything about it. You feel like a victim and you want to lash out. You can't fix or control idiots in Washington, but you can try to make this man behind the counter feel small and beneath you. Oh... the abused just because the abuser.
    2. Watch out for reaction responses. All Words coming from your mouth and heart should be spoken in Love and seasoned with Grace. Are you being reactive instead of proactive. 
Professional Growth:
If I were a company, I could learn
  1. I understand that He didn't pay for the card, but he did pay for the card through his dedication to shopping only at my store when he could have spent that money elsewhere and maybe that type of loyalty made me money. And maybe that type of loyalty doesn't come easy and I've now lost a customer, and his circle of influence, if I don't find a way to engage him through:
    1. Selective Agreement: Can I agree with him on some things? 
    2. Empathy Statement: Get on HIS side of the situation and feel with him about it, see it from his point of view. 
    3. Creative Solution: Find a way that you can say yes to something, even if you can't say yes to his request. It may be impossible for you as a cashier to do anything, but get your manager. It may be impossible as a manager to go back 2 years and credit points he thought he should have earned, or change a program you didn't design so that he'll get what he thought he was getting. But maybe you can comp his visit today and give him a free coupon for something next trip... or some peace offering. 
    4. This sound like this: 
      1. "WOW! I'm so sorry you were told XYZ, 
      2. I can see how that would be frustrating when you feel like you should have gotten something and didn't. 
      3. I don't have the power to do anything about how the Rewards Program works or any points you thought you should have gotten, but I can offer this as way to apologize for the wrong information you received. I can offer you __(fill in the blank)-to pay for your gas today, and give you this coupon for a free yadayada next time you come in.____; how does that sound?"

Summary

I was tempted to be upset or put off or angry at this man at first, for yelling at people about something so stupid. Then I started laughing about it, it really wasn't much more ridiculous than the video above. But really we all have these inner children just waiting to get out. It's up to us to choose Spiritual Growth. Be watching for other examples of people demonstrating how to behave, or not behave, in public. You can use the good ones as examples to follow, and learn just as much from the bad ones.

Have any examples of your own? Comment below.

The world is but stage and they actors in it are there for you to learn from, and sometimes you enter those stories and impact them with your own. How can you be an influence for Good Success today?

__________________________


Published © Darrell G. Wolfe 



I'd love to hear from you on this. 

What thoughts or comments could you add to this topic?

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Whereabouts...

Sriklan Islands were swamped with helicopters, sea planes, and search boats. A literal army, a swarm of military personnel had flooded the restricted island territories.



"These Islands are strictly off limits, no official maps even contain their presence... The President of the United States isn't even permitted to know of the location of these islands Jim... So tell me how two of my best operatives simply disappeared! ...I don't want excuses I want answers! Call me when you actually know something!" General Davison nearly broke the com phone as he slammed it into it's receiver in his quarters aboard the USS Silence. "The CIA is worthless...", he muttered to himself.



(*Interesting Research on War Psychology)



General Davison looked down at his watch. 2313. It had been just over 12 hours since they had each disappeared from their pick up points, at the same time. Both had reported in and both were MIA (Missing In Action) upon extraction. What was most disturbing was the total lack of any other presence having come or gone. No signs of struggle; no blood or missing items; it's as though they'd simply vanished. The worst possibility was that they are defected, but he knew these two, like his own kids, it wasn't possible. The other, nearly as bad possibility was that they had been taken, which was possible. The preferred possibility is that they were playing some massive practical joke on him, which would warrant a severe reprimand and was totally contrary to their character. Option 2 had the most merit, and that is what it was shaping up to look like.



....













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________________________















Whereabouts...

Sriklan Islands were swamped with helicopters, sea planes, and search boats. A literal army, a swarm of military personnel had flooded the restricted island territories.

"These Islands are strictly off limits, no official maps even contain their presence... The President of the United States isn't even permitted to know of the location of these islands Jim... So tell me how two of my best operatives simply disappeared! ...I don't want excuses I want answers! Call me when you actually know something!" General Davison nearly broke the com phone as he slammed it into it's receiver in his quarters aboard the USS Silence. "The CIA is worthless...", he muttered to himself.

(*Interesting Research on War Psychology)

General Davison looked down at his watch. 2313. It had been just over 12 hours since they had each disappeared from their pick up points, at the same time. Both had reported in and both were MIA (Missing In Action) upon extraction. What was most disturbing was the total lack of any other presence having come or gone. No signs of struggle; no blood or missing items; it's as though they'd simply vanished. The worst possibility was that they are defected, but he knew these two, like his own kids, it wasn't possible. The other, nearly as bad possibility was that they had been taken, which was possible. The preferred possibility is that they were playing some massive practical joke on him, which would warrant a severe reprimand and was totally contrary to their character. Option 2 had the most merit, and that is what it was shaping up to look like.

....






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________________________







Monday, December 16, 2013

How to Avoid ATM Fees for the rest of your life!

I Don't Like Fees

I really don't like paying fees, especially when I can help it. I find that it's simply pouring money into a drain. Some of you don't really think about this. I know because I talk to some of you on a daily basis and I see it. Recently I talked to a young man who had been taking multiple $20 withdrawals from ATM's that don't belong to his bank. He pays his bank a $2.50 fee and the other bank that owns the ATM a $2.50 fee for each withdrawal. That is paying $5 on average to take money out of an ATM. $5 out of $20 is a 25% fee!

And yet I see people do this multiple times a month, month after month. This young man paid $60 in ATM fees in three months. It's ridiculous! Now before you go blaming the banks for being greedy let's take a moment to realize that SOMEONE has to pay for those machines and repair them and stock them, etc. But it doesn't have to be you paying them to do it. Let's talk about how...

How To Avoid ATM Fees

So here are the secrets of success when it comes to avoiding ATM Fees. It's actually very simple. Don't use a Non-YourBankHere ATM. Sounds simple right? OK, maybe not. You're out and about, realize you need cash for that thing you are doing later and you don't see and branches for your bank in sight. Before you go running to the ATM nearest you, here are some things to consider.

  1. Know Your Fees. Every bank, by law, has a fees and rates disclosure. Every bank has disclosures telling you any possible fee you could ever pay before you pay it. If you read through these you will find out what they are and avoid them. There really aren't any surprises unless you failed to read through the contract you agreed to. This Fees Disclosure makes it plain as day what fees you could pay, be familiar with them and make note of the ones that are likely to affect you. 
    1.  ChaseWells Fargo, Bank of America, all of them must have a disclosure telling you every possible fee you could pay.
    2. Some banks reverse the fee you paid them, some reverse the fee you paid the other bank, most don't. If you have that arrangement find out the parameters. You may find it's only the first 1 or 2 or 4 per month. 
  2. Use Your Bank's ATM. You bank probably isn't that far. Most people own a smart phone now days, or know someone who has one with you. If your bank has an ATM a mile out of your way, go there, take the extra minute, don't pay $5 to take $20 out! 
  3. Cash Back. What if I told you that you could pay $1.69 or even $0.68 to take your money out and you'd get a prize for doing it? 
    1. Nearly all of the Grocery Stores, Walmarts, Targets, and Gas Station Convenience stores in the United States offer "Cash Back". Rather than pay $5 and get nothing for it, pay $1.69 for a Dr Pepper and then when the machine asks Debit or Credit hit "Debit", enter you PIN, and request Cash Back "Yes". Now you paid $1.69 to take money instead of $5, you saved $3.31 and you got a Dr Pepper for it! Sometimes you just have to break down what you are really doing to yourself in basic math to see how silly it is. 
  4. More is Less. If you absolutely must use an ATM that doesn't belong to your bank and there is even the slightest chance you will need more money soon, take the limit. Take $100 or $300 instead of $20. I mean if you are going to pay $5 anyway at least taking more prevents you from paying $5 again tomorrow, or even later today. 

Save Money. Consider the Cost

It's ultimately up to you. You must count the cost. If you are paying for convenience and that's what you really need right now, it may be worth the fee once in a great while. I can guarantee you that if you are paying this fee more than a few times a year it's not worth the cost and you are failing to think through your money plan. Money has you running around instead of you telling your money what to do.

My preferred method of getting cash is Cash Back. It's the best way to go unless you have an ATM from your bank closer than the store. I'm at the store FAR more than I'm at or around any bank. Cash Back is the way to go!

Take the suggestions above and stop paying those fees!

Every dollar you spend today, is a dollar you can't spend tomorrow. 


Have thoughts or comments? Start a conversation below!

______________________________________________


By Darrell Wolfe

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    Disclaimers:

    FOR MY FULL DISCLAIMER: See my "Start Here About" page. Click Here

    Information here is As-Is. These are the opinions of a fellow traveler and seeker of truth. I am not a doctor, lawyer, licensed financial advisor, tax preparer, etc, etc... I'm just one guy, sharing what he's learned. As such, the information may be as true or faulty as the guy on the buss stop giving you directions. If you need accurate information I encourage you to seek the help of a professional in your field. 

    * I do make money from this blog. 1 Tim 5:18 says the worker is worthy of his wages. I do earn affiliate commissions or freebies from some of the products I discuss at various points on this blog. Regardless I only suggest things that have personally helped me, or someone I know. If you click on an "Affiliate Link" and you buy something I'll get a cut. Thanks for your support! 

    I am a conservative Christian. I write from a bible-centric point of view. I welcome people from other points of view to jump into the conversation. If you don't like bible-centric writing: I encourage you not to read my posts.... Unless you want to learn something new. 

    * In all you do: Live Long and Prosper, with GOOD SUCCESS! 


    Thank you, Darrell Wolfe


    Friday, December 6, 2013

    Darkness

    Silent darkness greeted Eta when she aroused from a drug induced stupor. At least, that's what she assumed as she was coming to, based on the physical affects to her mind and body... she must have relapsed again, and blacked out... "I wonder what bedroom I've wondered into this time..." she thought to herself. Eta's muscles were sore and she felt the hard surface underneath her, it must have been a kitchen floor, maybe hard wood? It was warm, maybe stuffy even. It all felt very familiar. She hadn't opened her eyes yet, afraid of what situation she'd find herself in, what chain of events that she didn't remember had brought her to this hard floor.



    As she squinted, she saw simply low purplish light... black light. It must have been one of "those" parties... But as the fog cleared she found the resolve to sit up and find her bearings and look around. Something didn't set right. As her mind focused; her attention became keenly aware that nothing was right. This was no frat house, and she wasn't in college anymore. That girl has been dead for many decades, and forgotten, nearly. She is "Lt Col Nadine Etaine Romanakov, USAF". She was known simply as "Eta" to her friends and close colleagues. Pronounced "Eh'-tuh", she'd had to be deliberate in her pronunciation with a recent newbie. He was probably trying to get to her because of her odd accent, but it had worked.



    You don't get into the military as a female, into a special, top secret, co-ed combat and undercover unit none the less, without being a bit fiesty. Of course the Irish and Romanian heritage didn't hurt either. First generation US born American in either family line. Born to two parents fleeing persecution in their respective homelands. It's not easy having an Irish/Romanian/Texan accent either. Both her parents accents had rubbed off on her as she'd been home schooled for the first part of her life never staying in one spot under federal/international witness protection, and when that was over they had to move her to a state where she'd stick out like a sore thumb. When she did enter school in the ninth grade she got into more than her fair share of fights. She was about as tough as they come, her parents made sure of it.



    Drawing her attention back to the situation at hand her training kicked in and she began to assess. There were a large series of ultra violet LED lights above, like deep purple stars. The ceiling was high, too high to reach, and they provided very little light, but it was enough to make out the room, it wasn't very big, square, maybe twenty feet. She realized that her clothes had been changed and she was wearing something akin to a leotard or bicycle suit. She couldn't be sure in this lighting, but it appeared to be black with white trim, which in this light glowed off her arms, legs, and body. She felt like Tron for a moment.



    Eta scanned the room, no doors, windows, no escape. Only flat walls, she now realized were metal, painted matte black as far as she could tell. In the center of the room was a black table and one box. The white tape glowed around the black cardboard and drew her attention as the only other thing in the room besides her that was giving off any glow. She approached carefully and opened the box, assuming this must be the next step in whatever weird situation she'd found herself. They said training would involve untried methods. Maybe this was a training center and this was her next assignment. "Escape the box with no escape"... well, maybe she wasn't as good at catchy mission names as she was with a weapon in combat.



    When Eta opened the box all she found were two plastic bags. Inside one was a black iPhone, the other ear buds. She turned it on.



    It booted silently...







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    ________________________

    Darkness

    Silent darkness greeted Eta when she aroused from a drug induced stupor. At least, that's what she assumed as she was coming to, based on the physical affects to her mind and body... she must have relapsed again, and blacked out... "I wonder what bedroom I've wondered into this time..." she thought to herself. Eta's muscles were sore and she felt the hard surface underneath her, it must have been a kitchen floor, maybe hard wood? It was warm, maybe stuffy even. It all felt very familiar. She hadn't opened her eyes yet, afraid of what situation she'd find herself in, what chain of events that she didn't remember had brought her to this hard floor.

    As she squinted, she saw simply low purplish light... black light. It must have been one of "those" parties... But as the fog cleared she found the resolve to sit up and find her bearings and look around. Something didn't set right. As her mind focused; her attention became keenly aware that nothing was right. This was no frat house, and she wasn't in college anymore. That girl has been dead for many decades, and forgotten, nearly. She is "Lt Col Nadine Etaine Romanakov, USAF". She was known simply as "Eta" to her friends and close colleagues. Pronounced "Eh'-tuh", she'd had to be deliberate in her pronunciation with a recent newbie. He was probably trying to get to her because of her odd accent, but it had worked.

    You don't get into the military as a female, into a special, top secret, co-ed combat and undercover unit none the less, without being a bit fiesty. Of course the Irish and Romanian heritage didn't hurt either. First generation US born American in either family line. Born to two parents fleeing persecution in their respective homelands. It's not easy having an Irish/Romanian/Texan accent either. Both her parents accents had rubbed off on her as she'd been home schooled for the first part of her life never staying in one spot under federal/international witness protection, and when that was over they had to move her to a state where she'd stick out like a sore thumb. When she did enter school in the ninth grade she got into more than her fair share of fights. She was about as tough as they come, her parents made sure of it.

    Drawing her attention back to the situation at hand her training kicked in and she began to assess. There were a large series of ultra violet LED lights above, like deep purple stars. The ceiling was high, too high to reach, and they provided very little light, but it was enough to make out the room, it wasn't very big, square, maybe twenty feet. She realized that her clothes had been changed and she was wearing something akin to a leotard or bicycle suit. She couldn't be sure in this lighting, but it appeared to be black with white trim, which in this light glowed off her arms, legs, and body. She felt like Tron for a moment.

    Eta scanned the room, no doors, windows, no escape. Only flat walls, she now realized were metal, painted matte black as far as she could tell. In the center of the room was a black table and one box. The white tape glowed around the black cardboard and drew her attention as the only other thing in the room besides her that was giving off any glow. She approached carefully and opened the box, assuming this must be the next step in whatever weird situation she'd found herself. They said training would involve untried methods. Maybe this was a training center and this was her next assignment. "Escape the box with no escape"... well, maybe she wasn't as good at catchy mission names as she was with a weapon in combat.

    When Eta opened the box all she found were two plastic bags. Inside one was a black iPhone, the other ear buds. She turned it on.

    It booted silently...



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    ________________________

    Wednesday, December 4, 2013

    White Noise


    Bright blinding white permeated the room. A white cardboard box
    sat on a thin enameled snow white plastic table in a room covered in white
    painted steel walls. Only the black table legs gave any accent to the hyper
    real characteristics of this LED lit room. How he got here and why he didn’t
    know. Looking down he noticed the white form fitting uniform he was wearing.
    His deep tan the only other contrast in this other clinically pure room. A soft
    hiss was coming from the ceiling, but he couldn’t look up because the ceiling
    was lit from end to end to end with LED’s, turned on high, air conditioner
    maybe. He could barely see around him without squinting. Disorientation started
    to settle down after the first few moments awake and he found his bearings.
    Training kicked in.





    His thoughts moved to business, take stock. “Name/Rank:
    Captain Therun Ashmun, USAF.”, he said out loud, more to himself than anyone else. No
    response. Taking inventory of his body, every part was accounted for, legs,
    arms, toes, fingers, the scar on his neck under his right ear. No pains, other
    than the usual. He sat down on his knees monk style and closed his eyes and
    took deep breaths.





    Capt Therun “Ash” Ashmun tried to recall his last memory
    before finding himself in this room void of any obvious doors, windows, or
    openings of any kind, not even a seem was apparent as he circled the room with
    his eyes. The thoughts came like rapid fire. He didn’t bother feeling about
    because he was obviously handled before arriving here and obviously must be
    under surveillance this very moment. No way to defend against attack without
    knowing where the openings are, but there would be no use because if he were
    going to be killed he would be in some danky prison cell not this white washed
    room in some overly tailored biking suit. Still, better to be defensive and keep
    himself against a wall ready to react.





    “Bring it in Ash, bring yourself together… all this white is
    a bit disorienting. What was the last thing you recall?” He had been on Sriklan
    Island a survival training facility. He had just dropped in from 15,000 feet in
    air-camo nearly a new suit-shoot being developed, nearly invisible from the
    ground and air. He landed without a hitch, taking out three guards, high tech
    motion sensored mannequins, from the air. Working through the forest to the
    hacienda he had retaken the residence and recovered the “stolen” technology and
    send it back up on a UAV that had landed after he signaled. Routine training
    mission. Next time they’d use people and fake bullets but this time real
    bullets and fake people provided real time use of the weapon. The fake bullets
    never quite felt right. One man recovery missions were a great way to have
    peace. He swam off island to a nearby island and was waiting for his evac. He
    was perched in a tall tree, hidden by branches on the tallest point of the
    island. There was a flash of light around him and He… that’s it, there was no
    other memory. He woke up here.





    The box on the table was the only thing in the room with
    him, besides the table itself, which seems to be built into the floor. He
    approached the table cautiously. Eyes had adjusted some to the light, but there
    was still not much to see. The legs and table appeared to be built of high
    strength alloy. No hopes of breaking it. He pushed at the box, but it too
    appeared to be a part of the table. It didn’t budge. Other than being attached
    it seemed like any other white shipping box, sealed in white duct tape end to
    end.


    The table was cool to the touch, not cold, but cool, like
    everything else in this room, floor, walls, etc. Ash pealed at the tape slowly,
    ready to react to it’s contents. This box was obviously here for him, it was
    the only thing in the room, and no-one had reacted to his being awake. Laying
    the tape aside he opened the lid and found a pair of ear buds and an iPhone,
    each neatly wrapped in their own plastic bag. He opened the first bag and
    turned on the phone. 





    It booted silently…

















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    ________________________


    White Noise

    Bright blinding white permeated the room. A white cardboard box sat on a thin enameled snow white plastic table in a room covered in white painted steel walls. Only the black table legs gave any accent to the hyper real characteristics of this LED lit room. How he got here and why he didn’t know. Looking down he noticed the white form fitting uniform he was wearing. His deep tan the only other contrast in this other clinically pure room. A soft hiss was coming from the ceiling, but he couldn’t look up because the ceiling was lit from end to end to end with LED’s, turned on high, air conditioner maybe. He could barely see around him without squinting. Disorientation started to settle down after the first few moments awake and he found his bearings. Training kicked in.

    His thoughts moved to business, take stock. “Name/Rank: Captain Therun Ashmun, USAF.”, he said out loud, more to himself than anyone else. No response. Taking inventory of his body, every part was accounted for, legs, arms, toes, fingers, the scar on his neck under his right ear. No pains, other than the usual. He sat down on his knees monk style and closed his eyes and took deep breaths.

    Capt Therun “Ash” Ashmun tried to recall his last memory before finding himself in this room void of any obvious doors, windows, or openings of any kind, not even a seem was apparent as he circled the room with his eyes. The thoughts came like rapid fire. He didn’t bother feeling about because he was obviously handled before arriving here and obviously must be under surveillance this very moment. No way to defend against attack without knowing where the openings are, but there would be no use because if he were going to be killed he would be in some danky prison cell not this white washed room in some overly tailored biking suit. Still, better to be defensive and keep himself against a wall ready to react.

    “Bring it in Ash, bring yourself together… all this white is a bit disorienting. What was the last thing you recall?” He had been on Sriklan Island a survival training facility. He had just dropped in from 15,000 feet in air-camo nearly a new suit-shoot being developed, nearly invisible from the ground and air. He landed without a hitch, taking out three guards, high tech motion sensored mannequins, from the air. Working through the forest to the hacienda he had retaken the residence and recovered the “stolen” technology and send it back up on a UAV that had landed after he signaled. Routine training mission. Next time they’d use people and fake bullets but this time real bullets and fake people provided real time use of the weapon. The fake bullets never quite felt right. One man recovery missions were a great way to have peace. He swam off island to a nearby island and was waiting for his evac. He was perched in a tall tree, hidden by branches on the tallest point of the island. There was a flash of light around him and He… that’s it, there was no other memory. He woke up here.

    The box on the table was the only thing in the room with him, besides the table itself, which seems to be built into the floor. He approached the table cautiously. Eyes had adjusted some to the light, but there was still not much to see. The legs and table appeared to be built of high strength alloy. No hopes of breaking it. He pushed at the box, but it too appeared to be a part of the table. It didn’t budge. Other than being attached it seemed like any other white shipping box, sealed in white duct tape end to end.
    The table was cool to the touch, not cold, but cool, like everything else in this room, floor, walls, etc. Ash pealed at the tape slowly, ready to react to it’s contents. This box was obviously here for him, it was the only thing in the room, and no-one had reacted to his being awake. Laying the tape aside he opened the lid and found a pair of ear buds and an iPhone, each neatly wrapped in their own plastic bag. He opened the first bag and turned on the phone. 

    It booted silently…





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