Speaker 1: Cool Zone Media book Club book Club, book Club, book Club,
Speaker 1: book Club Club. It's the Cool Zone Media book Club
Speaker 1: Spooky Month Edition. I mean, mister Margaret Kildre, the Cool
Speaker 1: Zonned Media book Club is the only book club where
Speaker 1: you don't have to do the reading because I do
Speaker 1: it for you. There's other book clubs where people to
Speaker 1: probably do the reading for you. But did I do
Speaker 1: the reading for you? No, someone else did. Anyway, this
Speaker 1: month on book Club, I'm gonna read spooky stories and
Speaker 1: this spooky story is another one I'm excited about because
Speaker 1: this one, I'm convinced this is where the Predator comes from.
Speaker 1: It never even occurred to me that the movie Predator
Speaker 1: had like a precursor, but I think I've found it,
Speaker 1: and you know, maybe other people have other ideas, like
Speaker 1: the people who made Predator. I don't know whatever, I
Speaker 1: just find this story interesting. This story is called The
Speaker 1: Damned Thing and it was written in eighteen ninety eight
Speaker 1: by Ambrose Bierce. Who's Ambrose Bierce? You might ask, Well,
Speaker 1: if you lived in eighteen ninety eight, you would have
Speaker 1: known who Ambrose Bierce is, because, like a lot of
Speaker 1: the people that we cover, famous fickle and doesn't always last.
Speaker 1: Ambrose Bierce was like kind of the contemporary of Edgar
Speaker 1: Allan Poe and like one of the great spooky story
Speaker 1: writers of American history. But he's not talked about as
Speaker 1: much today, which is a shame, because he spent five
Speaker 1: years fighting against slavery. In fact, when this kid was
Speaker 1: a kid and he was only fifteen years old, he
Speaker 1: went and worked at an abolitionist newspaper, and then when
Speaker 1: the war broke out, he went and fought. But he
Speaker 1: spent most of the of his life being like, hey,
Speaker 1: war is pretty terrible. He wasn't like, oh, man, glory,
Speaker 1: that stuff's cool, you know. And he went on to
Speaker 1: influence just about everyone. And then in terms of spooky stories,
Speaker 1: in the year nineteen thirteen, he wrote a letter to
Speaker 1: a friend saying he was like gonna go to Mexico
Speaker 1: to see the Mexican Revolution. And then he disappeared, and
Speaker 1: no one's ever heard from him since. And realistically he
Speaker 1: probably died somehow in that conflict. He was in his
Speaker 1: early seventies, But who knows. Maybe he's a vampire. I
Speaker 1: think everyone's a vampire. This story, the damned thing, it
Speaker 1: is from eighteen ninety eight. I already told you that
Speaker 1: split into four sections. One by the light of the
Speaker 1: tallow candle, which had been placed on one end of
Speaker 1: a rough table, a man was reading something written in
Speaker 1: a book. It was an old account book, greatly worn,
Speaker 1: and the writing was not apparently very legible, for the
Speaker 1: man sometimes held the page close to the flame of
Speaker 1: the candle to get a stronger light upon it. The
Speaker 1: shadow of the book then would throw into obscurity a
Speaker 1: half of the room, darkening a number of faces and figures.
Speaker 1: For besides the reader, eight other men were present. Seven
Speaker 1: of them sat against the rough log walls, silent and motionless,
Speaker 1: and the room, being small, not very far from the table.
Speaker 1: By extending an arm, any one of them could have
Speaker 1: touched the eph man, who lay on the table, face upward,
Speaker 1: partly covered by a sheet, his arms at his sides.
Speaker 1: He was dead. The man with the book was not
Speaker 1: reading aloud, and no one spoke. All seemed to be
Speaker 1: waiting for something to occur. The dead man only was
Speaker 1: without expectation from the blank darkness outside came in the
Speaker 1: aperture that served for a window, all the ever unfamiliar
Speaker 1: noises of night in the wilderness. The long, nameless note
Speaker 1: of a distant coyote, the stilly, pulsing thrill of tireless
Speaker 1: insects and trees, strange cries of night birds so different
Speaker 1: from those of the birds of the day, the drone
Speaker 1: of great blundering beetles, and all that mysterious chorus of
Speaker 1: small sounds that seem always to have been half heard
Speaker 1: when they have suddenly ceased, as if conscious of an indiscretion.
Speaker 1: But nothing of all of this was noted in that company.
Speaker 1: Its members were not over much addicted to the idle
Speaker 1: interest in matters of no practical importance that was obvious
Speaker 1: in every line of their rugged faces, obvious even in
Speaker 1: the dim light of the small candle. They were evidently
Speaker 1: men of the vicinity, farmers and woodmen. The person reading
Speaker 1: was a trifle different. One would have said of him
Speaker 1: that he was of the world worldly, albeit there was
Speaker 1: a hint in his attire which attested to a certain
Speaker 1: fellowship with the organisms of his environment. His coat would
Speaker 1: hardly have passed muster in San Francisco, his foot gear
Speaker 1: was not of urban origin. The hat that lay by
Speaker 1: him on the floor he was the only one uncovered,
Speaker 1: was such that, if one had considered it an article
Speaker 1: of mere personal dormant, he would have missed its meaning.
Speaker 1: In countenance, the man was rather prepossessing, with just a
Speaker 1: hint of sternness, though that he may have assumed or
Speaker 1: cultivated as is appropriate to one in authority. For he
Speaker 1: was a coroner. It was by virtue of his office
Speaker 1: that he had possession of the book in which he
Speaker 1: was reading. It had been found among the dead men's
Speaker 1: effects in his cabin, where the inquest was now taking place.
Speaker 1: When the coroner had finished reading, he put the book
Speaker 1: into his breast pocket. At that moment, the door was
Speaker 1: pushed open and a young man entered. He clearly was
Speaker 1: not of mountain berth and breeding. He was clad as
Speaker 1: those who dwell in cities. His clothing was dusty, however,
Speaker 1: as from travel, he had in fact been writing hard
Speaker 1: to attend the inquest. The coroner nodded. No one else
Speaker 1: greeted him. We have waited for you, said the coroner.
Speaker 1: It is necessary to have done with this business tonight.
Speaker 1: The young man smiled. I'm very sorry to have kept you,
Speaker 1: he said. I went away not to evade your summons,
Speaker 1: but to post to my newspaper an account of what
Speaker 1: I suppose I am called back to relate. The coroner smiled.
Speaker 1: The account that you posted to your newspaper, he said,
Speaker 1: differs probably from that which you will give here under oath.
Speaker 1: That replied the other, rather hotly and with a visible flush,
Speaker 1: is as you choose. I used manifold paper and have
Speaker 1: a copy of what I sent. It was not written
Speaker 1: as news, for it is incredible, but as fiction it
Speaker 1: may go as a part of my testimony under oath.
Speaker 1: But you say it is incredible, that is nothing to you, sir,
Speaker 1: if I also swear that it is true. The coroner
Speaker 1: was apparently not greatly affected by the young man's manifest resentment.
Speaker 1: He was silent for some moments, his eyes upon the floor.
Speaker 1: The men about the sides of the cabin talked in whispers,
Speaker 1: but seldom withdrew their gaze from the face of the corpse. Presently,
Speaker 1: the coroner lifted his eyes and said, we will resume
Speaker 1: the inquest. The men removed their hats. The witness was sworn.
Speaker 1: What is your name, the coroner asked, William Harker, age
Speaker 1: twenty seven. You knew the deceased Hugh Morgan, Yes, you
Speaker 1: were with him when he died near him. How did
Speaker 1: that happen? Your your presence, I mean, I was visiting
Speaker 1: him at this place to shoot and fish. A part
Speaker 1: of my purpose, however, was to study him and his odd,
Speaker 1: solitary way of life. He seemed a good model for
Speaker 1: a character in fiction. I sometimes write stories, I sometimes read, though,
Speaker 1: thank you stories in general, not yours. Some of the
Speaker 1: jurors laughed against a somber background. Humor shows high lights,
Speaker 1: soldiers in the intervals of battle laugh easily, and a
Speaker 1: jest in the death chamber conquers by surprise. Relate the
Speaker 1: circumstances of this man's death, said the coroner. You may
Speaker 1: use any notes or memoranda that you please. The witness understood.
Speaker 1: Pulling a manuscript from his breast pocket, he held it
Speaker 1: near the candle and turning the leaves until he found
Speaker 1: the passage he wanted. He began to read, and what
Speaker 1: he read was these ads. That's not what he read.
Speaker 1: But here's some ads anyway, whether you want them or not.
Speaker 1: And we're back two. The sun had hardly risen when
Speaker 1: we left the house. We were looking for quail, each
Speaker 1: with a shot gun, but we had only one dog.
Speaker 1: Morgan said that our best ground was beyond a certain
Speaker 1: ridge that he pointed out, and we crossed it by
Speaker 1: a trail through the chapparral. On the other side was
Speaker 1: a comparatively level ground thickly covered with wild oats. As
Speaker 1: we emerged from the chapparral, Morgan was but a few
Speaker 1: yards in advance. Suddenly we heard, at a little distance
Speaker 1: to our right and partly in front, a noise as
Speaker 1: of some animal thrashing about in the bushes, which we
Speaker 1: could see were violently agitated. We've started a deer, said I.
Speaker 1: I wish we had brought a rifle. Morgan, who had
Speaker 1: stopped and was intently watching the agitated chaparral, said nothing,
Speaker 1: but he had cocked both barrels of his gun and
Speaker 1: was holding it in readiness to aim. I thought him
Speaker 1: a trifle excited, which surprised me, for he had a
Speaker 1: reputation for exceptional coolness, even in moments of sudden and
Speaker 1: imminent peril. Oh, come, I said, you are not going
Speaker 1: to fill up a deer with quail shot, are you still?
Speaker 1: He did not reply, but catching a sight of his
Speaker 1: face as he turned it slightly toward me, I was
Speaker 1: struck by the pallor of it. Then I understood that
Speaker 1: we had serious business on hand, and my first conjecture
Speaker 1: was that we had jumped a grizzly I advanced to
Speaker 1: Morgan's side, cocking my piece as I moved. The bushes
Speaker 1: were now quiet and the sounds had ceased, but Morgan
Speaker 1: was as attentive to the place as before. What is it?
Speaker 1: What the devil is it? I asked that damned thing,
Speaker 1: he replied, without turning his head. His voice was husky
Speaker 1: and unnatural. He trembled visibly. I was about to speak
Speaker 1: further when I observed the wild oats near the place
Speaker 1: of the disturbance moving in the most inexplicable way I
Speaker 1: can hardly describe it. It seemed as if they were
Speaker 1: stirred by a streak of wind which not only bent it,
Speaker 1: but pressed it down, crushed it so that it did
Speaker 1: not rise. And this movement was slowly prolonging itself towards us.
Speaker 1: Nothing that I had ever seen had affected me so
Speaker 1: strangely as this unfamiliar and unaccountable phenomena. Yet I am
Speaker 1: unable to recall any sense of fear. I remember and
Speaker 1: tell it here because singularly enough I recollected it. Then,
Speaker 1: that once in looking carelessly out of an open window,
Speaker 1: I momentarily mistook a small tree close at hand for
Speaker 1: one of a group of larger trees at a little
Speaker 1: distance away. It looked the same size as the others,
Speaker 1: but being more distinctly and sharply defined in mass and detail,
Speaker 1: seemed out of harmony with them. It was a mere
Speaker 1: falsification of the law of aerial perspective. But it startled,
Speaker 1: almost terrified me. We so rely on the orderly operation
Speaker 1: of familiar natural laws that any seeming suspension of them
Speaker 1: is noted as a menace to our safety, a warning
Speaker 1: of unthinkable calamity. So now the apparently causeless movement of
Speaker 1: the herbage and the slow, undeviating approach of the line
Speaker 1: of disturbance were distinctly disquieting. My companion appeared actually frightened,
Speaker 1: and I could hardly credit my senses when I saw
Speaker 1: him suddenly throw his gun to his shoulders and fire
Speaker 1: both barrels at the agitated grass. Before the smoke of
Speaker 1: the discharge it cleared away, I heard a loud, savage cry,
Speaker 1: a scream like that of a wild animal, and flinging
Speaker 1: his gun upon the ground, Morgan sprang away and ran
Speaker 1: swiftly from the spot. At the same instant, I was
Speaker 1: thrown violently to the ground by the impact of something
Speaker 1: unseen in the smoke, some soft, heavy substance that seemed
Speaker 1: thrown against me with great force. Before I could get
Speaker 1: upon my feet and recover my gun, which seemed to
Speaker 1: have been struck from my hands, I heard Morgan crying
Speaker 1: out as if in mortal agony, and mingling with his
Speaker 1: cries were such hoarse, savage sounds as one hears from
Speaker 1: fighting dogs. Inexpressibly terrified, I struggled to my feet and
Speaker 1: looked in the direction of Morgan's retreat, and may Heaven
Speaker 1: and Mercy spare me from another sight like that. At
Speaker 1: a distance of less than thirty yards, was my friend
Speaker 1: down upon one knee, his head thrown back at a
Speaker 1: frightful angle, hatless, his long hair and disorder, and his
Speaker 1: whole body and violent movement from side to side, backward
Speaker 1: and forward. His right arm was lifted and seemed to
Speaker 1: lack the hand, at least I could see none. The
Speaker 1: other arm was invisible. At times, as my memory now
Speaker 1: reports this extraordinary scene, I could discern but a part
Speaker 1: of his body. It was as if he had been
Speaker 1: partly blotted out, I cannot otherwise express it. Then a
Speaker 1: shifting of his position would bring it all into view again.
Speaker 1: All this must have occurred within a few seconds. Yet
Speaker 1: in that time Morgan assumed all the postures of a
Speaker 1: determined wrestler, vanquished by superior weight and strength. I saw
Speaker 1: nothing but him in him, not always distinctly. During the
Speaker 1: entire incident, his shouts and curses were heard, as if
Speaker 1: through an enveloping uproar of such sounds of rage and
Speaker 1: fury as I have never heard from the throat of
Speaker 1: man or brute. For a moment only I stood irresolute. Then,
Speaker 1: throwing down my gun, I ran forward to my friend's assistance.
Speaker 1: I had a vague belief that he was suffering from
Speaker 1: a fit or some form of convulsion. Before I could
Speaker 1: reach his side, he was down and quiet. All sounds
Speaker 1: had ceased. But with a feeling of such horror as
Speaker 1: even these awful events had not inspired, I now saw
Speaker 1: the same mysterious movement of the wild oats prolonging itself
Speaker 1: from the trampled area about the prostrate man toward the
Speaker 1: edge of the wood. It was only when I had
Speaker 1: reached the wood that I was able to withdraw my
Speaker 1: eyes and look at my companion. He was dead. Three.
Speaker 1: The corner rose from his seat and stood beside the
Speaker 1: dead man. Lifting an edge of the sheet, he pulled
Speaker 1: it away, exposing the entire body altogether naked and showing
Speaker 1: in the candle light a clay like yellow. It had, however,
Speaker 1: broad maculations of bluish black ob caused by extravasted blood
Speaker 1: from contusions. The chests and sides looked as if they
Speaker 1: had been beaten with a bludgeon. There were dreadful lacerations.
Speaker 1: The skin was torn in strips and shreds. The coroner
Speaker 1: moved round to the end of the table and undid
Speaker 1: a silk handkerchief which had been passed under the chin
Speaker 1: and knotted up at the top of the head. When
Speaker 1: the handkerchief was drawn away, it exposed what had been
Speaker 1: the throat. Some of the jurors, who had risen to
Speaker 1: get a better view, repented their curiosity and turned away
Speaker 1: their faces. Witness Harker went to the open window and
Speaker 1: leaned out across the sill, faint and sick, dropping the
Speaker 1: handkerchief upon the dead man's neck. The corner stepped to
Speaker 1: an angle of the room and from a pile of clothing,
Speaker 1: produced one garment after another, each of which he held
Speaker 1: up for a moment of inspection. All were torn and
Speaker 1: stiff with blood. The jurors did not make a closer inspection.
Speaker 1: They seemed rather uninterested. They had, in truth, seen all
Speaker 1: this before, the only thing that was new to them
Speaker 1: being Harker's testimony. Gentlemen, the coroner said, we have no
Speaker 1: more evidence. I think your duty has been already explained
Speaker 1: to you. If there is nothing you wish to ask,
Speaker 1: you may go outside and consider your verdict. The foreman rose,
Speaker 1: a tall, bearded man of sixty coarsely clad. I should
Speaker 1: like to ask one question, mister coroner, He said, what
Speaker 1: asylum did this your last witness escape from? Mister Harker
Speaker 1: said the coroner, gravely and tranquility. What asylum did you
Speaker 1: last escape? Harker flushed Crimson again, but said nothing. The
Speaker 1: seven jurors rose and solemnly filed out of the cabin.
Speaker 1: If you have done insulting me, sir, said Harker, as
Speaker 1: soon as he and the officer were left alone with
Speaker 1: the dead man. I suppose I'm at liberty to go. Yes.
Speaker 1: Harker started to leave, but paused with his hand on
Speaker 1: the door latch. The habit of his profession was strong
Speaker 1: in him, stronger than his sense of personal dignity. He
Speaker 1: turned about and said, the book that you have there,
Speaker 1: I recognize it as Morgan's diary. You seem greatly interested
Speaker 1: in it. You read in it while I was testifying.
Speaker 1: May I see it? The public would like the book?
Speaker 1: Will cut no figure in this matter, replied the official,
Speaker 1: slipping it into his coat pocket. All the entries in
Speaker 1: it were made before the writer's death. As Harker passed
Speaker 1: out of the house, the jury re entered and stood
Speaker 1: about the table on which the now covered corpse showed
Speaker 1: under the sheet with sharp definition. The foreman seated himself
Speaker 1: near the candle, produced from his breast pocket a pencil
Speaker 1: on a scrap of paper, and wrote rather laboriously the
Speaker 1: following verdict, which, with various degrees of effort, all signed.
Speaker 1: We the jury, do find the remains come to their
Speaker 1: death at the hands of a mountain lion. But some
Speaker 1: of us thinks all the same they had fits. You
Speaker 1: too might have a fit if you don't take advantage
Speaker 1: of all of the opportunities made to you by our advertisers.
Speaker 1: Whom we love dearly and un ironically, and we're back four.
Speaker 1: In the diary of the late Hugh Morgan are certain
Speaker 1: interesting entries, having possibly a scientific value, as suggestions. At
Speaker 1: the inquest upon his body, the book was not put
Speaker 1: in evidence. Possibly the coroner thought it not worthwhile to
Speaker 1: confuse the jury. The date of the first of the
Speaker 1: entries mentioned cannot be ascertained. The upper right part of
Speaker 1: the leaf is torn away. The part of the entry
Speaker 1: remaining is as follows would run in a half circle,
Speaker 1: keeping his head turned always towards the center, and again
Speaker 1: he would stand still, barking furiously. At last he ran
Speaker 1: away into the brush as fast as he could go.
Speaker 1: I thought at first that he had gone mad, but
Speaker 1: on returning to the house, found no other alteration in
Speaker 1: his manner than what was obviously due to fear of punishment?
Speaker 1: Can a dog see with his nose do odors impress
Speaker 1: some olfactory center with images of the thing emitting them?
Speaker 1: September second, Looking at the stars last night, as they
Speaker 1: rose above the crest of the ridge east of the house,
Speaker 1: I observed them successively disappear from left to right. Each
Speaker 1: was eclipsed, but an instant and only a few at
Speaker 1: the same time, but along the entire length of the ridge,
Speaker 1: all that were within a degree or two of the
Speaker 1: crest were blotted out. It was as if something had
Speaker 1: passed along between me and them, but I could not
Speaker 1: see it, and the stars were not thick enough to
Speaker 1: define its outline. Ugh, I don't like this. Several weeks
Speaker 1: entries are missing, three leaves being torn from the book.
Speaker 1: September twenty seventh. It has been about here again. I
Speaker 1: find evidences of its presence every day. I watched again
Speaker 1: all of last night in the same cover, got in
Speaker 1: hand double charged with buckshot. In the morning, the fresh
Speaker 1: footprints were there as before. Yet I would have sworn
Speaker 1: that I did not sleep. Indeed, I hardly sleep at all.
Speaker 1: It is terrible, insupportable. If these amazing experiences are real,
Speaker 1: I shall go mad. If they are fanciful, I am
Speaker 1: mad already. October third, I shall not go. It shall
Speaker 1: not drive me away. No, this is my house, my land.
Speaker 1: God hates a coward. October fifth, I can stand it
Speaker 1: no longer. I have invited Harker to pass a few
Speaker 1: weeks with me. He has a level head, I can
Speaker 1: judge from his manner if he thinks me mad. October seventh,
Speaker 1: I have the solution to the problem. It came to
Speaker 1: me last night suddenly, as if by revelation. How simple,
Speaker 1: how terribly simple. There are sounds that we cannot hear.
Speaker 1: At either end of the scale are notes that stir,
Speaker 1: no chord of that a perfect instrument the human ear.
Speaker 1: They are too high or too grave. I have observed
Speaker 1: a flock of blackbirds occupying an entire tree top, the
Speaker 1: tops of several trees, and all in full song. Suddenly,
Speaker 1: in a moment, at absolutely the same instant, all spring
Speaker 1: into the air and fly away. How they could not
Speaker 1: all see one another, whole tree tops intervened. At no
Speaker 1: point could a leader have been visible to all. There
Speaker 1: must have been a signal warning or command, high and
Speaker 1: shrill above the din, but by me unheard. I have
Speaker 1: observed too, the same simultaneous flight when all were silent,
Speaker 1: among not only blackbirds, but other birds, quail, for example,
Speaker 1: widely separated by bushes, even on opposite sides of a hill.
Speaker 1: It is known to seamen that a school of whales
Speaker 1: basking or sporting on the surface of the ocean miles apart,
Speaker 1: with the convexity of the earth between them will sometimes
Speaker 1: dive at the same instant, all gone out of sight
Speaker 1: in a moment the signal has been sounded too grave
Speaker 1: for the ear of the sailor at the masthead and
Speaker 1: his comrades on the deck, who nevertheless feel its vibrations
Speaker 1: in the ship as the stones of a cathedral are
Speaker 1: stirred by the base of the organ. As with sounds,
Speaker 1: so with colors. At each end of the solar spectrum,
Speaker 1: the chemist can detect the presence of what are known
Speaker 1: as actinic rays. They represent colors integral colors in the
Speaker 1: composition of light which we are unable to discern. The
Speaker 1: human eye is an imperfect instrument. Its range is but
Speaker 1: a few octaves of the real chromatic scale. I am
Speaker 1: not mad. There are colors that we cannot see. Ah,
Speaker 1: God help me. The damned thing is of such a color.
Speaker 1: The end. Okay, I like that story. I say this
Speaker 1: every time. I like that story for a bunch of reasons.
Speaker 1: But it's true. I like the story for a bunch
Speaker 1: of reasons. I really like the way it plays with
Speaker 1: all of these different omniscient narrator. And then there's the
Speaker 1: account from the writer, and then there's the journal, like
Speaker 1: all crammed into a pretty short story, but in a
Speaker 1: way that flows well for me. It doesn't make it
Speaker 1: like spookier, but it makes it more fun or interesting.
Speaker 1: This is the story actually gets classified as science fiction
Speaker 1: as much as it gets classified as anything else, like
Speaker 1: a ghost story. But at the same time it plays
Speaker 1: with something that people who live in the woods understand,
Speaker 1: which is that there's just often this sense that there's
Speaker 1: just something there, you know, and the whole like the
Speaker 1: dog barking at nothing and the stars went out for
Speaker 1: a moment and all those things. Those are experiences I've
Speaker 1: had and I don't actually think there's a damned thing
Speaker 1: in the woods it's going to get me, and you know, honestly,
Speaker 1: like I don't know. It also like gets at this
Speaker 1: idea of like camouflage, right, it talks about the one
Speaker 1: tree that looked like the other trees and I don't
Speaker 1: know anyway, I just like that story and I like
Speaker 1: that the author fought whole ass word and slavery and
Speaker 1: you know, was pretty interesting. So I hope you like
Speaker 1: it too, and if not, maybe you'll like next weeks.
Speaker 1: And if you did like this week's, maybe you'll like
Speaker 1: next weeks on cool Zone Media book Club. Also, I'm
Speaker 1: on tour right now. I'm reading fables out. If you
Speaker 1: are anywhere in the US, there's a decent chance I'll
Speaker 1: be on tour near you. Unless I already have been.
Speaker 1: You can go to my substack Margaret kiljoyd Do at
Speaker 1: substack dot com. I wrote a whole bunch of folklore,
Speaker 1: said in the same world as The Sapling Cage, which
Speaker 1: is my new book, and I'm on tour with The
Speaker 1: Sapling Cage. But I thought, rather than read from my book,
Speaker 1: which would be sort of boring for me, I'm going
Speaker 1: to read all these fables, which so far I've had
Speaker 1: good reception with, and eventually I'll read you all the
Speaker 1: fables on this book club, but not yet because I
Speaker 1: want you to go hear me read them to you
Speaker 1: in person, so you should do that. And even the
Speaker 1: idea of like writing all this folklore, honestly, it comes
Speaker 1: from well, reading you all this folklore because I like
Speaker 1: old stories and maybe you like them too.
Speaker 2: All right, bye, it could happen here as a production
Speaker 2: of cool Zone Media. For more podcasts from cool Zone Media,
Speaker 2: visit our website Coolzonemedia dot com or check us out
Speaker 2: on the iHeartRadio app, Apple podcasts, or wherever you listen
Speaker 2: to podcasts, you can find sources for It could happen here,
Speaker 2: Updated monthly at coolzonemedia dot com slash sources. Thanks for listening.