Cecil Baldwin

When she sat at the window and saw the word Oliwo, she knew that the future was limitless, and that, by proxy, she herself was limitless.

and that, by proxy, the world was limitless and always had been.

More on the story of Hanukkah soon, but first, a word from our sponsors.

For that, we take it to Deb, the sentient patch of haze.

Thanks, Deb.

Back to the story of Hanukkah.

A few years had passed, and Ruth found herself no closer to anything like show business.

She tried, occasionally and half-heartedly, but since she had no real idea of what it was she would be doing in that business, she never could get herself to move very far in any direction.

She went to a few auditions, but stopped after it became clear that the auditions were either for work as extras on infomercials or for the parallel show business she wanted nothing to do with.

She took one filmmaking class at the local community college, but became so sad, seeing the kind of hopeful but talentless people that attended, all of whom still had more drive and aptitude than her, she stopped going after three weeks.

Maybe she should write screenplays.

She had that thought about once a month, but never did anything with it.

And cruelly, time kept passing away, despite the fact that she was not using it to her highest potential.

A visit to a doctor led to a concerning series of blood tests, led to an MRI.

She lay naked under the thin hospital gown and the grippy yellow socks.

Don't open your eyes.

There's nothing to see in there, the technician told her.

But she did open her eyes.

She didn't feel claustrophobic.

Instead, she felt like a malfunctioning machine.