Hey. I want to tell you about two fiction, podcast from like their 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 podcast 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 the janitor really exists? He hoped so tune in to this sweeping cinematic experience if features Julian cost her John camera Mitchell Susanna Flood in 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, it's winter and the weather's freezing quite appalling stay in aloof, but footsteps guess that someone creeping crying calling a stranger up upon your roof, welcome to night. It's the holidays, listeners when the majority of this country celebrate how their experience at this season is defined as the default universal experience, while every other cultural.

Experience is expected to be in reaction in comparison to the majorities experience and if a person does wish to live in reaction to this default experience of the season, they are seen as hostile or religion merely for their wish to not participate in what is, after all, Or a celebration of the razor of their culture dumb, violence of another's all the same, happy blue stone day to those whose celebrate it now last year, Your airwaves were, unfortunately, too over by a horrible pirate broadcast telling a story that was quite unfit for any listeners ears, so I'd like to remediate mediate that by telling a story of my life, holiday classic I am sure all of you know but sent their pleasure in here. Once again a story you could recite every word of it is like visiting a friend

veiled community radio presents to you dear listener stone Carol, Our story begins on the evening of Blood Stone Day Eve. A Mister Scrooge was being quite horrid to his It's under paying them shouting some like flying Et Cetera his employees. How old their displeasure taken up with HR said. Scrooge This was his way of a joke, as HR had been cast into a pit several days before because they suggested perhaps there could be slightly less flying in the office. Scrooge valued three things. One himself too is money. Three, nothing else.

He went home from the office quite content with the way he had spent his day. He had made a good deal of money, a good deal of misery and both sides fair and write to him. His bed was made by a housekeeper, never met who came while he was at work and said breathing in his home. So it looked like no one had ever lived there. Signs of life bothered Scrooge so. I guess it was good news that the person sitting at his kitchen table was dead, Mr Marley business partner Bruges, who had died some time before and he looked at his skin Peeled and bubbled were there Skip left. The smell was tremendous, my God Scrooge said what is this early turned toward him ass best he could, for he was wrapped in heavy cheese, and he said Esben

he could for his tongue was mostly missing. You will be visited. I'm going right to bed and forgetting all of this and so he did go Marley, muttered, three, spirits again and then fell heavily to the floor, and rolled out of the kitchen awkwardly in his heavy changes. The smell lingered Scrooge felt deal. This won't. Do scrutiny I'm going right to bed and forgetting all of this and so he did, go right to bed but hardly had closed his eyes. When he heard a noise guttural sloping sound like someone Hailing pieced Scrooge sat up and looked about room, but it was as empty and dark and clean as before the summer there he shouted knowing that the answer was no and also that the answer was gets

There was no one there, but no one was there stubborn. He closed his eyes and tried to send himself determinedly to sleep, but sooner did he try that he heard a whistling sound quite near his ear like loose lips flapping his eyes snapped open the room, was still empty. Are you the first of these spirits Scrooge shouted then show yourself and again nothing, but nothing that held weight, nothing that was very much something in itself. This time Scrooge decided he wouldn't try to go to sleep. He would sit up in bed and wait out this so called spirit. If anything occurred, his eyes be open to see it. Then he blinked

when his eyes opened again on microsecond later there was a face inches from his face. The face was too to perceive any details, accept a sense of clammy of eyes that were wide, but with no pupils of a mouth that drooped sideways Scrooge, yelped and scrambled backward along the bed, but it was no good stayed with him. Still, the exact same distance, nearly pressed up against his own, the face who did at him a bad joke of a voice that Scrooge didn't find it funny he got. Bed tried to speak, but the banks was with him the entire time, no matter where he turned matter where he went. This yowling hairless base in front of his own What are you spirit? He cried what, if you can to teach me, but this was the ghost

a blood stone penny past and like the past, it was inescapable but had no point, no lesson to impart. It merely was the most moaned and he felt cold saliva spray over him. The face came even closer until their noses touched. The faces knows came apart, like white paper machine go away, go away, go away, Scrooge cried and it did go way as quick We as it had come. The ghost had left Scrooge had gained nothing from the encounter. In fact, much had been taken from him

Scrooge was speechless and breathless and if he had breath- and if he had speech what could he say- never no words for what he had seen. He went and made himself some tea, but couldn't find a way to swallow. It feeling the news dissolve against his nose, like marshy soil, like our memories, as we age three spirits Marley had said, I was he to face two more of them. He

went wearily to his bed waiting at any moment for a ghastly visage to swim toward him out of the shadows, but nothing came. He sat on the bed still nothing. He got in bed, nothing, he closed his eyes and opened his eyes. Nothing had come to his room. Instead, he was no longer in his room. He got up bewildered. His bed was now in a forest dense enough that it was impossible to see more than a hundred feet in any direction, but sparse enough that it was well lit. Although he could not see any son in the sky, there was some detail about this place other than his abrupt appearance. In it that was setting him one edge, he spent around waiting for a devil to pounce on him from the underbrush, but it was silent, build on it was silent absolutely so that was what was making him nervous. There was no rustle of the trees called of birds. He had never felt so alone and it was ass. He thought this.

Then he saw in the distance a figure. The figure was tall and gray and shaped like a human closely It had a wide mouth and it was screaming. Scrooge couldn't hear it. He wanted

no part of whatever this figure represented and turned to run, but when he turned the figure was there to absolutely still absolutely silent and screaming in mortal terror. Scrooge did not know how he knew it was terror only that he knew fear was thick in the air he could tasted on his tongue. This figure was terrified and it was still- and it was silent. Scrooge set his back straight and remember too, he was an important business men after all, a powerful man that caused other men to wither and quick. So he walked toward the figure, but he was not equal to approach it. No matter how far he went into the forest, the figure remained in the distance. Its limbs were split, it was dozens of feet tall, its mouth was, why did was screaming and there was no sound at all. Finally, Scrooge couldn't take it, he screamed back and that's when he found he could make no sound either there they were the figure at him. They were

terrified and neither of them could make even the smallest squeak, even the tiniest whisper of fear, without release the fear had nowhere to go and prowled Scrooge is ribcage a wild animal seething in captivity if he could Scrooge would have toward it out of his chest, but he couldn't stand there and face the figure of the ghost of Blood Stone Day present. Both of them could screen. Silently after hours of this, perhaps even days he found there was in his bedroom. Yet no time had passed at all Scrooge wept. He was envious of the ghosts whose job it was to haunt. He no longer want to be himself whose

it was to be haunted. He muttered, as what a matter of envy. I wish I were dead. Oh I wish I were dead from outside. The sound of the weather seemed to echo his words wise they say, must learn as they told me. You re aware. Now I'm stuck in your way

once again I wish now all this time. Again in the shower anonymous marrying me now. Nothing that online

The wind again, I guess I wish my shower down again- shall arise which obviously stay.

Scrooge lay in his bed shivering way. For the visit from the third spirit. Given what he had experienced so far. He had to believe The spirits had saved the most terrible for last. And could not imagine what hideous phantom gather itself in the darkness. He kept his eyes closed and awaited. Breath on his ear or dry finger caressing. His cheek But nothing came the tension, was enormous said he felt his stomach tightened in.

He became quite nauseous. He put a hand on his stomach and instinct. She will gesture to calm his body and one that was utterly futile. It was ass, though his after men were an altar and his plea, hating hand and offering placed by a condemned man the offering would not be accepted. The man would remain condemned, Scrooge felt within his optimum movement and realized. He was feeling the clenching of his intestine, seized by the terrible feeling within him, the packet and released type it and released, and he could feel the strange twitching of them. He became aware all at once that this coiled creature live with him and could at any time turn against this awareness and the dread still hanging over him about the approaching spirit brought with it. A wave of Annick with the panic came to see this now his stomach lurched and his intestines clenched and his head swam.

I feel in control of any part of himself. How could it be? this awful at the ghost subject even appear to him: Scrooge shambled up out of bed and moved blindly through the malevolent darkness to the bathroom he kneeled before the toilet, a pitiful supplicant, but nothing came relief, would not be so easy as a purge this feeling. Whilst in him it took him- and he was not in control of his body. His feet felt numb at his feet, felt none this entire time for us to set new symptom. He stumbled and to the mirror and saw himself- and here was the final, the poorer for him. He looked different. The same face, the same flesh, the same hair. His eyes were his eyes

with the light of panic in them and in tat moment he knew and knowing he despaired. There was no third spirit coming for him. There was only the failure and strangeness of his own body. This truly was the ghost of blood stone Day yet to come for as the years passed, his body with drift farther and farther from his own conception of it. He would prevail and she would suffer strange torments that would alter his life and the doctors would furrow their brow and be unable to diagnose anything, because the symptoms were to defuse you just getting alter the doctors would say to him that he would scream. But this isn't my body. I want my body back, but it was he's body and, like all bodies, if with not remain loyal, is intestines.

Rise harder, it felt thick and he didn't know if he was breathing and his hands were so numb and then she was and then she was gone elsewhere. Children slap elsewhere, the valley praised and non religious wished elsewhere? sleep of elsewhere, It was a mere infinite multitude of lived experience, of which we each only get to leave. One The next morning it was blood day Scrooge awoke and stood stiffly from the bathroom. He went to the window, tiny TIM Is there in the street bent backward jittering,

tiny TIM did all round to the people of night fail went about their preparations for blood stone date. Dinner Scrooge didn't see them, he watched tiny TIM shake and shake ending farther and farther backward. She watched TIM Tim shook, and so ends the story of Scrooge there's nothing to learn from this story. Boast stories have nothing to teach us. Its winter dear and frightful listeners, days or hot and the knight, Sir, and I hope you have some without their who cares for you and if you don't,

They know that I care for you. I know that you are never the alone. For in the darkness. There are always others with you, whether you like it or not. Don't open your eyes unless you want to see them, have a happy blood Stone Day. I'm good night night veil, goodnight.

Welcome to night veil is the production of night veil presents, it is written by Joseph Think and Geoffrey trainer and produced by disposition. The voice of night veil is Cecil Baldwin original music by dispersion. All of it can be found at dispersion, dot info or a disposition, dot band camp dot com. This episodes, whether was dragged me down by Travis Love, Benson, featuring YO, the moon find out more at Travis Love, Benson, dotcom comments, questions, email, sat in fell at welcome tonight, failed dot, com or followers on twitter at night, fell radio or slip into something a little bit more combustible check out. Welcome tonight, veil, dot, com for more information on this show and our upcoming live shows in Seattle, the UK and Europe. Today's proverb the universe contains, among other things, black holes, vast clouds of gas than light a planet made a diamond and your tiny body.

Hey where there is a fine podcast. It's me how Lublin Podcast Europe and friend and me That's when our podcast air and acquaintance and me symphony sanders, pod, castor and friend with benefits. We are happy to tell you about our show good morning night veil, it's your hip to recent trends like jewel Cardy being collusion, then you, like, we have already started listening to our official. Welcome to my bill. We capture, I read about jewel in many ordinary. Why was on the toilet are equally episodes feature interviews with the castle creators, last listener theories. Questions at my exact wishes for disposal of my body when I die. If you haven't listened yet, we understand we also have stuff going on to you now are also very busy making a pike ass for you about a podcast. You love just now

Then we're here for you, when every already in your podcast them and in your hearts, forever yours in vandam and friendship of every kind. Latvia is it jeweller Julie? I don't know, I think. Maybe you would be on the toilet right now, acts.