Nazrax

Sunday afternoon
I'm at home doing something on my computer. It's Sunday afternoon, so I need to get the kids down for a nap. My wife isn't here right now, so I need to take care of it myself. I look at the time and see that it's already a quarter past five; how did it get so late!?! I still need to get them down for a few minutes; fourty-five minutes will have to do. I quickly head to the living room where I find them all and tell them to get ready and get in bed, pronto. At some point I walk through my own bedroom and see some torn papers and envelopes on the floor near the bed. I go back to the kids, call them back together, and ask who did it. No one is forthcoming, so I look at the child I think did it and ask her point-blank. She looks me in the eyes as she answers that she didn't. I ask her a couple more times, but she responds back without batting an eye. Either she's innocent or she's gotten much better about lying. I warn her that if she's lying then the lie is worse than the actual act, but that I'll believe her. I get the kids back to getting ready for naps.

My wife calls to say she's on her way home. When I answer the phone it somehow goes to voip mode. I try to switch it back quickly but I don't see an obvious way to do so. Thankfully the call sounds pretty clear. I'm impressed; maybe I can use this for work like I'd originally planned.

On the phone, my wife says she saw an email that one of the B's was going to be dying soon and asking if anyone wanted to go with the other B's to say farewell. Bethany was the only one who responded. She said it was a little awkward since she was the only non-family member there, but it was still good. She says she'll see me soon and hangs up. Almost immediately a black sedan pulls up and my wife and the B's get out. I can't understand how they got home so fast. I go out to greet them and see that Jake is also out there. He's got four propane tanks and single burners (for his rentals, he says) along with a giant propane tank on a trailer. It's as tall as I am and so big around that I couldn't encircle it with my arms. It seems to be venting a lot of gas, though no one is worried about this. I try to ask Jake why it's doing this but his answer has nothing to do with my question. I try a few times to get an answer but I never do. When he gets close to it his hair gets a little icy; I guess the conversion of all that liquid to gas is sucking all the heat out of the air. My wife starts reminiscing about a mobile kitchen they used to take camping. It was its own trailer, heated by propane. It had some kind of tunnel oven, except the tunnel had only a top, bottom, and one side, and there were tools hung along the side of the tunnel. Eventually they had to get rid of it and replace it with ???.

Now I'm back in the house. Chris is holding a tiny baby and is going to hand it to me but then has second thoughts. He asks if I use ???? and I say I don't know what that is. He turns to John G and hands him the baby instead, saying he knows John's family uses ???. I ask again what it is and he says it's a brand of probiotic. I tell him that if he'd asked that in the first place I could have told hem we used a different brand. It seems he doesn't want to mix probiotic strains in the baby and he's concerned that even being close to someone using different strains could be a problem. He asks about a couple of other supplements, and I have no idea what they are. I describe the ones we take, including the blue liquid with minerals.


Train oddities
I'm inside a building looking at a departing train. Now I'm outside the building looking up at a wall. I see the stubs of tracks coming out from the second story and new brickwork covering a hole where the train must have come through. Since the train only just left, I have no idea how they did this so fast, or how the train got safely to ground level. Now I'm looking at it again, but the hole is unbricked. I don't understand why they would have removed their recent work. The edge of the hole is the stairstep of missing bricks; this hole was never supposed to be here.

Now I'm on the train in one of the sleeper cars, standing in the aisle. The side of the train is to my right, and two sleeping compartments are before me to my left. I find it a little odd that they don't go all the way to the ceiling of the train, but I figure that being an old train things would have been a little different. The doors into the compartments are wood and have handles to pull them so they swing open into the aisle. They look much nicer than the all-plastic modern sleeping compartments. I open the door and walk in. It's surprisingly spacious. Going back out into the aisle, I think of what I need to do - something spy/espionage related.


Fragments
Something about a long curving street with stores along one side. It's dark.

Something about using avidemux to edit videos.

Something about someone's health insurance not covering him even though he's employed with a company which provides group health coverage.

Some kind of Star Trek / Schlock Mercenary mashup. Videos of two wingmen, a big red one and small yellowish fighter craft. Something about big red one's history.