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Speaker 1: Hey, this is Annie and Samantha. I don't go to

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Speaker 1: Stephane never told you production of iHeart Radio. And today

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Speaker 1: we are doing another of our sminty fiction segments, which

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Speaker 1: is once a month. If it's not your thing, should

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Speaker 1: I totally get this current one is continuing. It is

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Speaker 1: part of something I wrote in for Nano Raimo. So

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Speaker 1: if you were like this probably come editing. I know. Oh,

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Speaker 1: I had a whole thing where I realized some people

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Speaker 1: must have always been cheating at Nana Arrival, but not me.

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Speaker 1: I only wrote it in November. Yes, as I'm getting

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Speaker 1: ready to post my fan fiction, I just realized, did

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Speaker 1: you forget a name? Oh? Figured out? Oh, Samantha. I

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Speaker 1: figured out three names. Because you can have a pseudonym,

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Speaker 1: you can have three plus names under the same account.

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Speaker 1: So I'm going to post like my sillier ones under

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Speaker 1: one account, by like more serious ones under another account.

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Speaker 1: I've got a whole thing, and I like every name. Well,

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Speaker 1: I do think all three of them. You could be like, oh,

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Speaker 1: that's I know who that is. If you know me,

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Speaker 1: you'd be like, I'm pretty sure, okay, yes, yes, so listeners,

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Speaker 1: I mean if you find me, look out. If you

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Speaker 1: know any this is this is the test. This is

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Speaker 1: the test. I'm excited. Well, do you know, Annie, I'm excited.

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Speaker 1: But oh, I think if you know me at all,

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Speaker 1: I'm pretty sure you could be like that's Annie, especially

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Speaker 1: if you knew, like what genre I'm writing in, what

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Speaker 1: phantom I'm running in, I'm pretty sure. Um. Well, anyway, Yes,

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Speaker 1: I write this for Nana Raimo. It is part one

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Speaker 1: of a trilogy, but I didn't really edit them four

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Speaker 1: of this partly because of time contrags, but partly because

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Speaker 1: I kind of wanted to talk about what I was

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Speaker 1: going through or dealing with when I wrote this, because

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Speaker 1: I do find it kind of bizarre and interesting that

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Speaker 1: I wrote a story about motherhood at this age when

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Speaker 1: I'm not a mother. So this is a continuing If

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Speaker 1: you haven't listened, I believe we're in chapter four now,

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Speaker 1: so you can find the first three chapters in a prologue.

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Speaker 1: Uh in our spendy fiction segments um content warning for

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Speaker 1: infertility viruses, government control, especially government control over women's bodies,

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Speaker 1: end of the world stuff. It's very dystopian um hunger

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Speaker 1: and feeling like a failure as a mom. And I

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Speaker 1: know that all sounds pretty grim. As I said, of

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Speaker 1: the times we could release this, this is perhaps the

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Speaker 1: worst time. But as I said, some people like me

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Speaker 1: kind of like yeah, reading or listening or however, consuming

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Speaker 1: media like this during a time like this, that's similar.

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Speaker 1: So quick recap our main characters, Tilda and her son Madison,

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Speaker 1: are on the run from enforcers because they have fled

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Speaker 1: um the contraception centers and the Board of Better Parenting uh,

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Speaker 1: and it is getting cold. They don't have a lot

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Speaker 1: of supplies. Madison appears to be ill, which is very,

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Speaker 1: very dangerous in this world. And they have a couple

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Speaker 1: of diverging paths and choices to make, and those choices

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Speaker 1: and paths are incredibly important to their future survival or not.

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Speaker 1: So let's get in to the fiction part of this episode.

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Speaker 1: An oppressive silence pressed around them, the stream now stagnant,

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Speaker 1: damned with debris. The muscles until this neck hurt from

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Speaker 1: straining to boost her hearing. They stepped over broken limbs,

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Speaker 1: ferns tickling at their ankles. Over the edge of the road.

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Speaker 1: The metal structure of a bridge came into view, growing sharper.

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Speaker 1: The beautriss is larger the closer they got Madison started

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Speaker 1: to hum softly. The tune was familiar, a vague, fuzzy

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Speaker 1: memory at the back of her brain. Elephant, elephant will

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Speaker 1: be all right, He's sang, almost manically. It took a

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Speaker 1: minute for her to process the lyrics. Amusement growing, would

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Speaker 1: you say a mouse? Confused that her humor, he replied, unsure,

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Speaker 1: elephant will be all right. It's a song. Lips twitching,

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Speaker 1: eyes not leaving the bridge as they near, and she prodded,

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Speaker 1: elephant will be all right. Madison nodded. We heard it

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Speaker 1: in Kansas, he added, as though she didn't believe him.

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Speaker 1: She smiled affectionately down at him, and he returned it tentatively. Yeah,

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Speaker 1: I think I remember that elephant will be all right.

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Speaker 1: Good song. Radiant relief shone on his face at her acceptance,

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Speaker 1: but it dimmed quickly as he caught sight of the

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Speaker 1: bridge swinging slightly in the wind. It was close. Now

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Speaker 1: are we going to cross it? Tilda could hear the

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Speaker 1: anxiety she felt at the idea reflected in his voice,

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Speaker 1: could tell he wanted her to say no. The thing was,

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Speaker 1: she couldn't figure out a way they could cross it

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Speaker 1: that wouldn't fall under suicidal the metal of the bridge

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Speaker 1: bent inwards and outwards junctions pulling away from either side.

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Speaker 1: She wasn't entirely positive the structure would hold. Secondly, surely

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Speaker 1: the enforcers, if still in Cleo Springs. An intuition told

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Speaker 1: Tilda they were, would guard the bridge. But how else

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Speaker 1: could they cross? She turned her attention to the river.

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Speaker 1: Dirty water flowed slowly down the center of the riverbed,

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Speaker 1: tiny streams like spiderwebs, and the red clay on either side,

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Speaker 1: connecting and reconnecting, emptying and to stagnant muddy puddles. Still dangerous,

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Speaker 1: but the better option. If they got under the bridge,

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Speaker 1: maybe they wouldn't be seen. The mud would be slippery

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Speaker 1: and the water frigid, but if they moved quickly, they

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Speaker 1: wouldn't be in it long. Untilda thought she could make

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Speaker 1: out the blue bordered building of a decently sized grocery store.

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Speaker 1: She crouched down, putting her finger to her lips. She

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Speaker 1: had yet to see any enforcers, but she wasn't about

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Speaker 1: to take any chances. Madison nodded, nearly smacking himself in

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Speaker 1: the faced muffle of Coffin time, a wins twisted across

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Speaker 1: Tilda's features. But she squeezed his hand comfortingly. We're going

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Speaker 1: to cross under the bridge, all right, Madison listened attentively,

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Speaker 1: frightened but eager to obey her In this. It's going

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Speaker 1: to be slippery and cold, but we had to be quick.

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Speaker 1: We don't want anyone to see us. Okay. He whisper

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Speaker 1: was almost lost, fear and agency restricting her vocal cords,

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Speaker 1: but Madison hung on to every word, Ready, another nod,

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Speaker 1: keeping her hold on the child's hand. Tilda started in

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Speaker 1: a quick crouch, treadless shoes slipping on red clay, Unable

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Speaker 1: to grip the slippery substance. Madison almost fell, but Tilda

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Speaker 1: pulled up to his feet. Under the bridgish shadow, it

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Speaker 1: was colder, a damp, biting cold. Tilda flashed Madison another look,

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Speaker 1: silently asking if he was ready, the tiniest sniffle than

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Speaker 1: a nod, as close to her run as they could

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Speaker 1: get been over like this, they followed the path of

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Speaker 1: shade made by the metal overhead. The clay under the

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Speaker 1: bridge was a little dryer, not as slippery, but they

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Speaker 1: were breethous short lived. Both women and child slowed as one.

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Speaker 1: When they reached the sluggishly flowing water, perhaps twenty ft

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Speaker 1: wide and no more than six inches deep. Stealing herself,

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Speaker 1: Tilda took a cautious step, almost reeling back at the cold.

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Speaker 1: Before Madison could do the same, she slid her hands

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Speaker 1: under his armpits and lifted him into her arms. He

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Speaker 1: squeaked in surprise, instinctively wrapping his legs around her waist.

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Speaker 1: She placed every foot carefully as deftly as she could

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Speaker 1: without making too much noise. The cold jolted painfully up

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Speaker 1: her legs, the tingling, biting numbness spreading further the longer

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Speaker 1: she was exposed to the water, her jeans wet and

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Speaker 1: clean to her skin. Her teeth began to chatter. Tilda's

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Speaker 1: knees almost bluckled when she emerged to the other side

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Speaker 1: of the river, her legs too absent of feeling to

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Speaker 1: realize that the water no longer laughed around them. Tilda

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Speaker 1: didn't set Madison down until they reached the edge of

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Speaker 1: the bridge, taking in the steep incline covered in vines

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Speaker 1: and shrubbery, trying to find the safest route for them.

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Speaker 1: Retaking Madison's hand, she pulled him around to the left

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Speaker 1: side of the bridge, Still hidden mostly in the shadow.

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Speaker 1: Using the plants as leverage, they climbed up the slope,

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Speaker 1: slipping occasionally. Both maintained an urgent silence what Madison would

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Speaker 1: call allowed quiet. Tilda doubted she'd be able to hear

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Speaker 1: the enforcers of her own pounding heart it. When they

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Speaker 1: reached the top where the bridge rejoined the road, piled

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Speaker 1: a motion for Madison to stop listening intently. The bridge

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Speaker 1: clanged lazily. Leaves rustled around them, but no voices, no footsteps,

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Speaker 1: arms burning and flimsy. She pulled herself up on her stomach,

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Speaker 1: taking a frantic inventory of their surroundings. There was no one,

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Speaker 1: no one she could see anyway. Madison clambered after her,

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Speaker 1: and she pointed at the closest building catty corner to

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Speaker 1: them on the left, a chalky gray warehouse. It was

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Speaker 1: off to the side and less visible than a straight path.

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Speaker 1: She held up one finger, Madison swalling at the gesture,

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Speaker 1: but his face determined. She held up a second finger,

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Speaker 1: then a third. They took off, sprinting for the far

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Speaker 1: corner of the warehouse, the pounding of their feet unnaturally

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Speaker 1: loud on the pavement. Their hands still clasped sung wildly

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Speaker 1: between them. Once they rounded the corner, they abrupt stop,

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Speaker 1: almost sent them crushing onto the pavement. Panting harshly it

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Speaker 1: Tilda tried to pick out the smacking of boots on asphalt,

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Speaker 1: half expecting it. Her breathing made it difficult to hear

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Speaker 1: much of anything else. Mass and coughed terrified apology painted

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Speaker 1: on his lips. Not pausing to think, Untilda took off

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Speaker 1: out a run, pulling the boy behind her down the

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Speaker 1: alley and toward the Bisian Flue grocery store. She didn't stop.

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Speaker 1: Something primal had taken over, but she stuck to the shadows,

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Speaker 1: every tiny cough between rough breasts assaulting her ears. The

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Speaker 1: back entrance of the grocery store was essentially a big

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Speaker 1: loading dock. They darted through rows of abandoned semis, up

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Speaker 1: some crumbling concrete stairs, and to a set of thick

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Speaker 1: double doors. For a gut wrenching moment, Tilda new a

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Speaker 1: conviction that it would be locked, but it wasn't. It

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Speaker 1: was heavy, and she had to leverage her weight to

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Speaker 1: hold it open. A crack Mass and ducked inside tilta

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Speaker 1: squeezing after him, biting her lip in exertion. As she

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Speaker 1: eased the door closed so as not to make a

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Speaker 1: loud bang, She kept her palms flat against the cold

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Speaker 1: metal as a sliver of light sinned and disappeared, leaving

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Speaker 1: them in darkness. Her heart skittered about like a hunted rabbit,

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Speaker 1: gasping breasts, scratching at her bone dry throat. A horse

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Speaker 1: cough caught her attention, and she pushed off the door,

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Speaker 1: Blinking rapidly. Her night vision started to kick in and

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Speaker 1: she took stock of their surroundings. Bits of rutting cardboard

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Speaker 1: and tarnished carts were strewn across tile that had once

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Speaker 1: been white but now is covered in the dark stains

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Speaker 1: of growing mold and a heavy coat of dust. She

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Speaker 1: wrinkled her nose at the dust she could feel swirling

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Speaker 1: in the air, and as the muted smell of rotting

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Speaker 1: meat stung her nostrils. They were in the frozen meat section.

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Speaker 1: Madison fumbled with her hand, grasping her fingers as they

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Speaker 1: maneuvered their way further into the store. Their steps the

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Speaker 1: weary ones of refugees navigating a minefield. Tilda steered them

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Speaker 1: to the left, away from the sour smell of spoiled milk,

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Speaker 1: now able to make out the signs hanging over the

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Speaker 1: aisles in the dim light. Your morbid little shopping trip

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Speaker 1: was first to the snack section. She grabs some trail

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Speaker 1: mix dry banana and mango, kale chips, a pack of

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Speaker 1: cornell the bars, a Derrk peanut butter crackers, and some almonds,

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Speaker 1: piling some in Madison's arms. When her own became too full,

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Speaker 1: she plucked two liter bottles of water and added them

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Speaker 1: to her bounty, almost shocked at their look. After a

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Speaker 1: moment's consideration, she decided that can goods were out, with

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Speaker 1: no way to heat them that she could think of.

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Speaker 1: She flirted with the idea of starting a fire in

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Speaker 1: the store, but decided it was too risky. The mushy

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Speaker 1: contents would be less than appetizing. The thought of cold

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Speaker 1: food when she was already so cold, made her stomach royal.

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Speaker 1: After she got some food in her stomach, she'd revisit

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Speaker 1: the problem not to mention, rifle through the close section

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Speaker 1: for something warmer, and pick up some food for their

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Speaker 1: journey out of here, But she didn't want to think

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Speaker 1: about that right now. That meant figuring out how to

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Speaker 1: evade the enforcers. And finding a way to keep going

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Speaker 1: day after day after day. She glanced back, grimacing at

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Speaker 1: the slightly wet footprints that they'd left in their wake.

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Speaker 1: If enforcers checked inside, the marks would lead them right

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Speaker 1: to their quarry. Madison coughed again, nearly dropping some of

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Speaker 1: the packages balanced curiously in his arms. Looking around, Tilda

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Speaker 1: told Madison to wait where he was and darted across

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Speaker 1: the aisle to a shelf opposite them, pulling down some blankets,

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Speaker 1: thankfully free of milk doing dragging them behind her with

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Speaker 1: her pinky. As she returned to Madison, his eyes wide

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Speaker 1: and unrelenting in the dark. From the quick glimpse she got,

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Speaker 1: Tilda deduced the store had been ransacked, whole aisles knocked over,

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Speaker 1: a dull rainbow of spilled cereals, a messy constellation of

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Speaker 1: broken printers and baby seats and other things that were

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Speaker 1: no longer needed. She supposed they hadn't been the first

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Speaker 1: to mind this store, not by a long shot. Depositing

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Speaker 1: her snack items on a mostly empty shelf, she took

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Speaker 1: out a blanket and let it billow out as she

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Speaker 1: loaded to the floor. Madison sat down, allowing the packages

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Speaker 1: he carried to tumble to the center of the checked

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Speaker 1: black and green fabric. Reclaiming her own freeze dried food,

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Speaker 1: she added it to Madison's dash, grabbing another one of

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Speaker 1: the blankets, this one a thick blue and red Dreeping

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Speaker 1: it across the child thin shoulders. He wrapped his fingers

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Speaker 1: around the cloth, pulling it closer, found himself with a

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Speaker 1: tiny hiccup. She took the last throw for herself, wearing

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Speaker 1: it like a cloak. It barely put a dent in

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Speaker 1: the frost, penetrating her bones, but it was a start.

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Speaker 1: Drink first, she ordered, and Madison obeyed. Slowly, she tacked

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Speaker 1: on at his hasty gulps, he spluttered, setting the bottle

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Speaker 1: on the floor and snatching up a packet of trail mix,

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Speaker 1: fixing him with a meaningful look when he commenced, shoveling

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Speaker 1: the mix into his mouth. She chose the dry bingoes

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Speaker 1: and almonds for herself. At the first taste of food,

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Speaker 1: ravenous hunger exploded in her stomach. It was all she

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Speaker 1: could do not to choke down the food, the mediocre

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Speaker 1: at best age snacks delectable. She moved on to the

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Speaker 1: peanut butter, twisting off the top with an almost rabid eagerness,

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Speaker 1: and opening a package of stale crackers, using them as

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Speaker 1: vessels for the peanut e spread. They crumbled under the

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Speaker 1: weight of the peanut butter she attempted to heap on them. Already,

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Speaker 1: Tilda felt her strength returning, but it was nowhere near enough.

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Speaker 1: In that moment, she thought she could eat everything in

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Speaker 1: front of her and more, and it would be nowhere

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Speaker 1: near enough. Masison took a massive bite of granola, his

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Speaker 1: cheek like chipmunks. Tilda laughed quietly, accidentally swallowing a kale

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Speaker 1: chip hole, but apart from a sheepish grin, the boy

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Speaker 1: was clearly not deterred. Aloud clang and voices stripped their

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Speaker 1: faces of all traces of humor. Madison crawled over to Tilda,

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Speaker 1: curling into her side. Tilda listened intently, the food like

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Speaker 1: an iron weight in her gut. The voices were the

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Speaker 1: lowest murmur. They were coming towards the front of the store.

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Speaker 1: The softness of their steps informed her that they either

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Speaker 1: suspected someone else's presence or they knew it outright. Tilda

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Speaker 1: slid her eyes sideways. The noise had originated from the

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Speaker 1: front of the store. If she and Madison could retreat

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Speaker 1: out the back, she couldn't hear anything, no evidence of

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Speaker 1: their nearness, but if they saw her footprints, there would

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Speaker 1: be no hiding. Light from a flashlight swept up the

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Speaker 1: center row, Pulling Madison to his feet, the blanket sliding

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Speaker 1: noise asleep from his shoulders. She took cautious steps towards

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Speaker 1: the back entrance, hardly daring to breathe. She kept her

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Speaker 1: eyes riveted on the floor to avoid all the debris,

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Speaker 1: trusting Madison to do the same. They reached the end

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Speaker 1: of the snack aisle, the swinging beam of the light

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Speaker 1: growing closer, a crunch as someone crushed cereal under a boot.

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Speaker 1: Tilda and Madison pressed against the end of the shelf,

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Speaker 1: invisible to anyone glancing down the aisle. Muffled boot stamps

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Speaker 1: grew louder. White lights spilled down the row on their right, pausing,

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Speaker 1: then it vanished, shifting to their left, where they had

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Speaker 1: left their snacks and blankets. The light hung their hushed

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Speaker 1: voices conversing. Tilda's mind went blank with buzzing fear. Instinct

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Speaker 1: took over. She edged in the direction the enforcers had

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Speaker 1: just vacated, Madison hugging to her at her waist, turning

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Speaker 1: up the really enforcers had just checked. She could hear

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Speaker 1: them sorting through their snacks as she and Madison crept

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Speaker 1: down the adjacent aisle, clutching to each other too, sets

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Speaker 1: of eyes wide and terror needed boots moved closer and

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Speaker 1: passed them so close they could touch, if not from

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Speaker 1: the island of shelves separating them. Tilda sped up and

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Speaker 1: Madison mimicked her movements, jerky but still silent, as they

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Speaker 1: almost stumbled to the right, taking cover behind the shelves edge.

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Speaker 1: Chest heaving silently, Tilda perked her ears. She could see

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Speaker 1: the edges of the light illuminating the frozen meat section.

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Speaker 1: Hope in the stranglehold of fear, clawed at her insides

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Speaker 1: as the two she thought they were two, moved with

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Speaker 1: quickening steps towards the back entrance that Tilda and Madison

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Speaker 1: had first come through. Maybe they thought that's where the

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Speaker 1: footprints led. Maybe they thought their prey had exited that way.

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Speaker 1: We're no longer here. The steps grew further away from

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Speaker 1: the woman and the child and closer to the exit.

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Speaker 1: A sense of disbelieving hope swelled up inside Tilda. The

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Speaker 1: enforcers were going to walk away. She and Madison were

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Speaker 1: going to escape. Madison coughed, the sound wrenched from him

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Speaker 1: forcefully past the frantic hands. Madison slapped over his mouth.

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Speaker 1: Time froze silence as the tractory set unstoppable. It had

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Speaker 1: been there all this time, waiting to be put into motion,

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Speaker 1: but in this moment there was an eternity realities and unrealities,

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Speaker 1: and never could be weaving the fabric of everything together, tenuous,

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Speaker 1: no mercy, no considerations. Everyone was connected. The enforcers reversed.

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Speaker 1: Un Tilda started in a crouching round as quietly as

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Speaker 1: she could muster, pulling Madison behind her, she turned down

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Speaker 1: an aisle of clocks, glancing over her shoulder, the light

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Speaker 1: bobbed in their direction with increasing speed. She twisted at

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Speaker 1: the end of the row of clocks to the right,

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Speaker 1: once again, down an aisle of empty and toppled picture frames.

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Speaker 1: Tilda skidded to decide to avoid a pile of metal frames,

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Speaker 1: almost ramming into the opposite shelf, Correcting herself. Hoping that

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Speaker 1: the emergency exit in the store was in the same

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Speaker 1: places and superstores, she led Madison into the automotive section,

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Speaker 1: the bouncing of their pursuers boots getting louder, dodging toppled items,

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Speaker 1: they ran the enforcers closing in the emergency exit. Just

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Speaker 1: a little bit further. Tilda broke into a full outrun.

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Speaker 1: When Madison proughed again, she threw her hands out, nearly

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Speaker 1: slamming into the metal bar. She forced the door open,

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Speaker 1: the hinges wind the thick door thudding shut behind them.

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Speaker 1: They found themselves in a dark cement hallway, metal railing,

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Speaker 1: Sneaking around two descending gramps that led to another door.

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Speaker 1: Hardly pausing, tilta jog down the ramp, and nearly smacked

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Speaker 1: into the door when the handle resisted her grip. She

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Speaker 1: jiggled at frantically, gritting her teeth, and with no warning

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Speaker 1: it gave light dazzled their eyes, but they couldn't stop.

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Speaker 1: Tilt to turn to the left, and ran as fast

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Speaker 1: as she could without dragging Madison off his feet, sticking

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Speaker 1: to the sides of the buildings, barreling down the second

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Speaker 1: alley they passed on the left. Things could have been

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Speaker 1: so different had they gone to the right. And that

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Speaker 1: brings us to the end of the fiction reading chapter

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Speaker 1: four of Terminus, and as always, thanks too are amazing

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Speaker 1: producer Christina for making these happen. She's fantastic. One of

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Speaker 1: the things, well, first of all, I did want to

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Speaker 1: say for anybody who was like, huh, yes, that was

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00:20:36,880 --> 00:20:39,280
Speaker 1: a Jimmy Eat World song that was mentioned. If you

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Speaker 1: know what, then you know it was because that's when

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00:20:43,320 --> 00:20:45,359
Speaker 1: I was a kid. Jimmy World was one of the

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Speaker 1: first CDs I bought with my own money. And did

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Speaker 1: I make her listen to it recently? Yes, yes, truth

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Speaker 1: and I for a long time I believed the lyrics

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00:20:57,359 --> 00:21:03,919
Speaker 1: were elephant elephant will be all right, Um, so just

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Speaker 1: put that in here. Uh I. I do love when

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Speaker 1: you get older and you realize you've been mispronouncing or

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Speaker 1: you didn't understand lyrics for for your whole life. Essentially,

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Speaker 1: I still don't understand them. Yeah, there's plenty of songs

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Speaker 1: where all I'll be singing karaoke, I'm like, oh, I've

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Speaker 1: got that wrong. Forever. One of the things I wanted

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Speaker 1: to talk about briefly in this discussion section that we

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Speaker 1: haven't talked about yet but we have talked about on

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Speaker 1: past episodes of this is that whole idea of virginity

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Speaker 1: being like this ultimate prize, like it's something that you

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Speaker 1: give up and in this world is seen as very

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Speaker 1: not only shameful, um not only stigmatized, but also like

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Speaker 1: you will destroy the world because you had sex, and

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Speaker 1: that you're ruined after sex. That's destroy that because it's

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Speaker 1: you know, Tilda has all this internalized stigma around it

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Speaker 1: because she has them. There are the marks on her

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Speaker 1: face that you know, so everyone knows after you've had

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Speaker 1: sex because you get these marks in your face, and

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Speaker 1: it is seen as you didn't do your duty, essentially

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Speaker 1: like you have failed, and now humanity continues to die

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Speaker 1: off because you have failed, and also with a really

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Speaker 1: gross layer of you failed because you're a human. I

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Speaker 1: guess like you didn't do sex like we want you

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Speaker 1: to do sex. You didn't do that sex. Yeah, yeah.

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Speaker 1: And I just find it fascinating again because I was

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Speaker 1: writing this when I was just coming out of college,

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Speaker 1: and given what we've talked about of my own trauma

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Speaker 1: on here, Like, looking back back at this, I do

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Speaker 1: feel like I have a better understanding of why, because

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Speaker 1: when I wrote this, it felt to me like it

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Speaker 1: came out of nowhere, like I it's just suddenly I

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Speaker 1: was like, Oh, this is a story I want to write.

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Speaker 1: I had never thought about it before. It just sort

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Speaker 1: of happened. And then when I looked back, I was like,

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Speaker 1: that's I don't know why I felt so compelled to

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Speaker 1: write about this. But now that I've done some self reflection,

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Speaker 1: we've talked about some of these things on the show,

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Speaker 1: I understand it better now. But this idea, especially when

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Speaker 1: you're younger as a woman of like, oh, if I

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00:23:36,720 --> 00:23:43,600
Speaker 1: have sex, I have lesser value to society, And this

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Speaker 1: idea that you have to if sex for a woman

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Speaker 1: is about having a baby and not for pleasure or

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Speaker 1: not for anything else. So that's something we'll be talking

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Speaker 1: about more as we get more in depth of these.

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Speaker 1: As I said, this was the first kind of action chapter,

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Speaker 1: so I mean it was a little actionly, but um,

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Speaker 1: we'll see there's more to come. I hope that I

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Speaker 1: pulled it off some what. But in the meantime, I

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Speaker 1: hope you're enjoying these. If you have any fears about

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00:24:10,240 --> 00:24:12,679
Speaker 1: what's gonna happen, I'd love to hear them. If you

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Speaker 1: have any like fiction in the public domain that we

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00:24:15,359 --> 00:24:18,880
Speaker 1: could do something with, like on this segment with sound

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Speaker 1: effects and stuff. Please let us know you can email

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00:24:22,080 --> 00:24:23,800
Speaker 1: It's at Steffie your Mom Stuff at I hurt media

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00:24:23,840 --> 00:24:25,439
Speaker 1: dot com. You can find us on Twitter and mom

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00:24:25,480 --> 00:24:27,800
Speaker 1: Stuff podcast or Instagram and Stuff I've Never Told You.

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Speaker 1: Thanks as always to our super producer Chris do you know?

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00:24:30,760 --> 00:24:33,920
Speaker 1: Thank you, and thanks to you for listening Stuff I

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00:24:34,000 --> 00:24:35,600
Speaker 1: Never Told the distection of I High Radio. For more

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00:24:35,640 --> 00:24:37,119
Speaker 1: podcast in my heart Radio, you can check out the

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00:24:37,200 --> 00:24:39,280
Speaker 1: heart radio app, Apple podcast, or have you listen to

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00:24:39,280 --> 00:24:40,040
Speaker 1: your favorite shows