Hey. I want to tell you about two fiction podcast from night, though presence that you're going to love first there's within the wires a unique and immersive show that tells stories using found audio from an alternate twentieth century. Our new season season for is out, and it's about a mother and daughter as they attempt to lead an anti government commune surviving on the fringes of society and its all told, via tape, recorder letters home to her daughter and sermons to the commune. Next there is the orbiting humans circus, a pod cast about the janitor who lives at the top of the Eiffel tower. It is back with a brand new musical story. This fall that asked the question: does it and it really exists. He hoped so tune in to this sweeping cinematic experience if features Drooling Costa, John Camera Mitchell, Susanna Flood and many more to find out the answer you can find both within the wires and the orbiting human circus, in your favorite up or at night no presence dot com

This is a story about you the man on the radio and you were pleased because you always wanted to hear about yourself on the radio. Welcome This is a story about you. You live in a trailer out near the car lot next to old woman, Joseph House, occasional

you shall wave at you on her way out to get the mail or more snacks for the angels. Occasionally your way back you're, not a terrible neighbour. As far as it goes at night, you can see the red Light Blue on and off on top of the radio tower, a tiny flurry of human activity against the implacable backdrop of stars and void. You'll sit out on the steps of your trailer with your back to the brightness of the car lot watching the radio tower for hours, but only sometimes mostly you do. Other things this story is about you, you didn't always live at night veil somewhere else. Where there were more trees, more water, you wrote direct mail campaigns for companies selling their products. Dear resident, you wrote often

Finally, some good news in this dreary world at last: Reason not to kill yourself, then you would delete that and write something else and it would be sent out and it would not be read by any one. You had a friend and then a girl friend and then a fee on, say the same person she cook dinner, sometimes, but sometimes you cooked, you often touched

one day you were walking from the glass box of your office to your old Ford probe and a vision came to you. You saw above you a planet of awesome size lit by no son, an invisible, tighten all thick black forests and jacket mountains and deep turbulent oceans. It was so far away so desolate and so impossibly terrifyingly dark.

And that day you did not go home, you drove. Instead, you drove a long time and eventually you ended up in night veil and you stopped driving. You have been haunted ever since by how easy it was to walk away from your life and how few the repercussions were. You never heard from your fiance or your job again. They never looked for you, which doesn't seem likely, or maybe it's that in night veiled, you cannot be found the complete freedom, the lack of consequence,

it terrifies you. You have a new job. Now, every day, except Sunday you drive out into the sand wastes, and there you find two trunks you move would incur. It's from one truck to the other, while a man a suit, silently watches. It is a different man, each time, sometimes the crates tick. Mostly they do not When you are done the man in the suit hands you and amount of cash also different each time and you go home. It is the best job you ever had accepted. Today it was different

You moved the crates, the man in the suit a stranger watched, but then, as had never happened before the man in the suit received a phone call. He walked off at some distance to take it. Yes, sir, he said, and no sir also he made hawk shrieking sounds it wasn't terribly interesting. You moved crates, but then an impulse, an awful impulse came over you and for no other reason than that you are trapped by the freedom to do anything in this life. You took one of the crates and put it in your trunk. By the time the man came back from his phone call. You were done with your job

He gave you the money. It was nearly five hundred dollars today, the second highest it had ever been and you drove home with the crate in your trunk. When you got home, you took the crates into your trailer and left it in the kitchen, The great did not make a ticking sound. It made no sound at all. Nothing made a sound except you breathing in and breathing out you cooked dinner. You always dinner, the red light on the tower blinked on and off in your peripheral vision, a message that was there and then wasn't and that you could never quite red. You wondered how long it would take them to miss

The great you do not wonder who they were, some mysteries aren't questions to be answered, but just a kind of opaque fact, a thing which exists to be not know which brings us to now to this story. This story about you. You are listening to the radio. The announcer is talking about you And then you hear something else: a guttural howl out of the desert distance, and you know that the crates absence has been discovered. The great well, it sits. That's all on the kitchen floor.

That's all it's warm warmer than the air around it. It smells sharp and earthy like freshly ground cinnamon, and when you put your ear against the rough warm, would you hear a soft humming, an indistinct melody, it does not appear to be difficult to open. All you would need to do is remove a few now. Ills. You do not open it. You decide instead to go to the moonlight all night diner and have a slice of pie The wind is hot, like always and smells like honey and mud night is your favorite time. Daylight brings only a chain of visual sensations, none of which cocaine.

You're into meaning. For you anymore, life has been out of focus free of consequence As you drive, you turn off the headlights for a moment. In that moment, you feel again above You not even far away now that the planet of, some size lit by no son an invisible, tighten all thick black forests. Should I get mountains and deep turbulent oceans. You see nothing The faint moonlight on your dashboard, but you know the planet- is out there yawning in the unseen spaces. The moment pass is you turn your headlights back on and all you see is a road just asphalt just that

and you pass a man waving some afore flags indicating that the speed limit for this stretch is forty. Five. The moonlight all night is radiant Green, slab of mint light in the world warm darkness, use and when you see it like it hurts your eyes, but it does not hurt your eyes. You park near the front door, a man rose by on the ground, his eye bleary and cyclists whispering. The word my the womb over and over, but you don't have the money to tip so you go inside you order a slice of straw, very pie and the waitress indicates. Through words and movements that it will be to you presently,

The radio speaks soothingly to you from strategy speakers set into a foam tiles ceiling. It is telling a story about you, your story at last, a man slides into the booth across from you, You recognize him vaguely, although he considerably different now it that man who appeared to be of slavic origin but who dressed in an absurd caricature of an indian chief and called himself the Apache Tracker, except now it's difficult for you to miss. He has actually trends.

Formed into a native American. You wonder if the pie will get there soon. The Apache trackers smells of putting soil and sweat leans across the table and touches your hand likely. You do not pull the hand away. Because you know that there will be no consequence for any of this people's paused nastier. He says on the you, do it you not. He tapped the table, then. Bringing his thick eyebrows together and pursing his lips. He lay he's down and taps the ground. You not again My pie is here now you say unnecessarily as the pie is quite visibly placed in front of you, you

not order invisible pie. You hate invisible pie. Looks at the pie for a long time and then, let's his breath, he's out slowly through his nose I'll need pre, Dude Museum. Peter Oghee, napalm or good, believes what an asshole that guy is. You finish the pie and ask for the czech check you say whispering it into your drinking glass as is custom and then lifting the of sugar packets to find it filled out and ready to be paid. You do a few dollars onto the check place it back on the sugars wait for the south

and of swallowing and leave the diner the Waitress nods as you leave, but not at you. She nods slowly and rhythmically to music only Sheikh and hear her eyes, riding curved line of neon lights above the menu. You start the car, the man on the radio, says something about the weather, hey the fee. Talking to you.

No, you won't stop Jordan, The shutters stuff will serve for sons, never sweeter than local sadder than local tat trunk? an said, since some iron do stay now, but it's more than blood stain,

Lesson is sweeter than nothing faster than a dive. sweeter than local honey the sadder than local DEC. Sweeter than local.

The time of the great is in your kitchen, where you left it. And you get down on your knees to embrace it more fully. It has grown warmer, even hot. It still is not taking It had taken you no time to get back home now that you think about it. Were there any other cars on the road? Where did all the cars oh the man with the sum afore flags explaining the speed limit. He wasn't there either your heart pounding without allowing another stray thought to wander through your mind and delay you, you grabbed the crate and throw it in your trunk You turned the ignition and your car radio comes alive with a pump, just as the

answer, says that your car radio comes alive with a pop where to now you don't know, but you go anyway, a pair of headlights pair of eyes and to shape hands speeding through the silent town behind you. You see helicopters searchlights sweeping down onto your trailer. There are sirens, purplish cloud hangs over the town. Glittering, occasionally as it rotates the whole works you I passed the moonlight all night. Still a glow and full of people slowly eating what sounds good only late at night Teddy Williams, Desert Flower Bowling Alley and arcade fun complex, which has taken too not only locking but barricading its doors. At closing time, you passed. My city hall, which, as

Waves is completely shrouded after dark in black velvet. Moving farther out following the pool of the distant uncertain moon you passed by the car lot, where the same men have been put away for the night and old woman Josie S House only sign that the unassuming little home could be a place of residence for angels is the bright halo of heavenly. Surrounding it. And the sign out front that says angels residents and the town is behind you and you are out in the scrub lands and the sand wastes by them oh, do you see a man holding a cactus in one hand, and

scissors and the other. He shakes both at you as you pass and howl, and then you are alone, just you and the desert. You stop the car and get out pebbles crunch in the sand in response to your movement, the radio murmurs behind the closed doors of the car, the headlights illuminated only a few stray plants and the I'd dumb eyes of some nocturnal animal. Looking back, you see the bulk of light. That is your night veil. The purple cloud now floating over the heart of the city reaches its tendrils

and out of buildings? You hear screams and gun fire. You open the trunk and lay one hand on the crate. It pulses with some kind of life. Still, no ticking, though you look back, several buildings are on fire crowds of people are floating in the air held aloft by being of light and struggling fee. Billy against power. They cannot begin understand the ground shifts like he was startled. It's so quiet when it finally comes. You see the black car long before it arrives. It comes to a halt,

your by unto men step out. You don't run, neither do they. How did you find me? You. Everything you do is being broadcast on the radio. For some reason, not pretty easy says one of the men, the one that isn't tall yeah. You say I see that now you have the item. The man who was not tall asks. You say nothing man who was not tall signals the man who is not short and he walks past. You looks into your trunk and knots. Even easier says the man who is not all there is an unexpected click.

One of the rear doors of the black car has opened and your fiance has stepped out. Her eyes are wet like it was the night you left, she does not appear to have aged, but then you can't actually remember how long it has been. Could it have been last week or was it ten years ago why she says why why you dont know what to say the man who is not short steps up to you puts a nice against you

throat. Nobody says anything. Your fiance shakes her head. Her eyes are empty, broken gushing. The radio was saying all of this. As it happens, you hear it dimly through the car door. You can't stop smiling all at once the concept, whence is all at once. You are no longer free, it's all coming back around all at once, life bleary washed out snaps back into focus the red light. From the tower still blinks in the distance, and every message in this world has a meaning it all

makes sense and you are finally being punished. You can't think of a time you have ever been happier. Your fiance abruptly gets back to the car. Neither of the men seemed to notice her one opens the crate with a couple quick taps and pulls out of it and intricate miniature house, the hours that must have been spent building it every detail is accounted for inside the house. You think you see for a moment lights and movement. Undamaged says the man who is not tall. You be met him. The knife presses harder against your throat, but it doesn't hurt. Your eyes

Wonder up, and you see above you, the dark planet of awesome size perched in its sunless void and envy double tighten all thick black forests and jagged mountains and deep turbulent oceans. A monster, spinning, soundless forgotten it. So close, you see it just above you, maybe even if you tried very hard, you could touch it. You reach up. This has been your story: radio moves on to other things: news: traffic,

political opinions and corrections to political opinions. But there was time one day, one single day in which it was only one story, a story about you and you were pleased because you always wanted to hear about yourself on the radio good night night veil, goodnight walking tonight veiled as the production of night presents. It is written by Joseph Think and Geoffrey Greener and produced by Joseph think the voice of night veil, Cecil Baldwin.

Original music by disposition. All of it can be found. Dispersion, dot info or at disposition band camp, dotcom, Russian, Translation by Daniel Newski spicy by Daniel, we set So the weather was locals, honey by outbreaks find out more at AL rigs, dot band camp dotcom comments, first, send sat info welcome to night, veiled dot, com or followers on twitter, Adele radio checks, Welcome to night fell dot com for more information on this show, as well as all sorts of cool night veil stuff. You can and while you're there consider clicking that donate link, that'd be cool you today's proverb summer fall feeling sort of, but not quite

all the time spring by its Joseph think, my friend, Jeffrey Nigh, created, welcome to night fell back. In twenty. Twelve. Normally were the ones turning our ideas into writing, but for Our brand new show start with this. It's you who do the creating on each episode will talk about a topic of the creative process. Then we I'll give you too short for something and soon, and something to create. You can share your work on our membership for him to see what other people are up to. We want you to

creating one simple assignment added time, because the best way to start writing is to start writing, find it where ever you get. Your part casts acts.