Nine days shy. If there was any way to remember she would, but memory is a slippery thing. Every time the images became more and more papery — more and more like a shadow theatre.

The one thing she remembers with utmost clarity is the date. Now nine days shy of a year ago. Every day since — 356 in total — she has been carving a marker. A reminder. Not in a tree, a cliff face or a bed post.

On her skin.

Not with a blade, but with a needle. Not with drugs, but with ink. And not to harm, but to heal.




When Richard won the $120K, he though it would be the end of his problems. Instead, it was just the beginning.

As soon as he paid all his debt ($120K), the calls started streaming in. Everyone was desperate. Everyone wanted a piece of the pie. Everyone looking at him — hopeful to be saved from their own bad decisions.

He tried to tell them. “Guys, $120K is really not that much. It’s not an unlimited amount. It’s not even one eighth of a million.”

“You’ve spent it all, haven’t you?” They would ask. They were asking questions. They wanted to know on what. They wanted to see the reward so they could participate in it. How had they even found out?

In the end, he changed his numbers. He even moved house. He became a fugitive. All because of $120K.