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Shattered Image (A Dexter fanfic)
Spoilers for 6x12 - (in which I start a fanfic to fulfill my need for closure after that giant emotional cliffhanger - Where Dexter's season 6 finale left off from Debra's POV)
"What the fuck, Dex?" Debra stumbled back, her body slamming into the rough stone of the church's walls. "I mean, what the fucking fuck? Jesus Christ, Dexter!" She steeled herself and started walking forward, her eyes darting back and forth from her brother to the dead man bleeding out on the table. "Is-Is that DDK? Is that Travis fuckin' Marshall wrapped up in plastic like some fuckin' deli meat? Jesus!"
"Deb -" Dexter began. Debra held up a hand to silence him.
"Don't even fucking start. Jesus pissin' Christ, I thought I knew my own brother but…" she tugged at her collar, unbuttoning one of the buttons. "This isn't the first time you've fuckin' done this, is it? Killed someone? Oh goddammit, I can't breathe," she sputtered, doubling over and gasping for breath through her panic. Dexter rushed to her but she jerked away from him.
"Who are you?" she asked, staring into Dexter's face. She wished that she could say she didn't recognize the man before her, that the person she thought she'd known so well was gone. But the truth was, her brother was right there - his eyes filled with concern for her yet the rest of his face was blank, just a firmly set jaw and an indecipherable expression that she'd seen from him millions of times before.
"Deb, please -"
"Don't. Speak. Please, Dex, I just gotta think. I can't think right now." She wanted to run to him, confide in him but this time, he was the monster she was afraid of. It wasn't who he had killed, because she wasn't spilling any tears for the Doomsday Killer, but that smile on Dexter's face as he shoved his knife into Marshall's chest… it wasn't human. It couldn't be the brother she loved, the man she thought she was in love with. She spun away from him, yanking her hair out of her face just in time as she retched onto the stone floor.
She straightened up, wiping her mouth and groaning. She turned back to her brother, staring at him, unable to speak anymore. She took a deep breath and walked over to the altar of plastic her brother had erected to trap Travis Marshall, like a fly tightly wrapped in a spider's web. "Dex… what is this?" Debra whimpered, hating herself for the weakness in her voice and the tears blurring her vision.
"Uh… He kidnapped Harrison. My son was going to be his sacrificial lamb on top of that tower."
Debra jerked her gaze away from the dead body before her. She locked eyes with her brother. "He tried to hurt Harrison?" Dexter nodded. A surge of protectiveness for her nephew moved through her before fading and leaving her with an empty numbness. "But, Dex, this… I could maybe understand if it was self defense or even if you killed him in a fit of fuckin' rage - some heat of the moment kind of deal but this… This is cold and fuckin' calculated and…" She couldn't clear her head of the buzzing that seemed to be filling it, growing louder and louder and drowning out all reasonable thought. But how could she even begin to think reasonably with everything she had just learned?
Her breathing was becoming irregular again and she leaned a hand against the table to steady herself. She quickly pulled her hand away at the feel of the warm plastic. Looking down she understood why it had been so warm - fresh blood was trapped under the plastic. She studied her hand but it was clean.
Debra could see Dexter moving towards her out of the corner of her eye. "Stop. Stop where you are!" she yelled at him, pulling her gun and training it on his chest. He held up his hands, dropping the bloody knife that had still been clutched in his gloved fist.
"Are you gonna shoot me, Deb?" Dexter asked, still walking towards her slowly.
She cocked the gun. "S-Stop, Dex!" Debra shouted, her voice shaking. She gripped the gun tighter in her trembling hands. "I don't wanna shoot you, goddammit. You're my fuckin' brother but, but… I-I gotta, I gotta take you in, Dex. I have to."
"What about Harrison?" Dexter questioned softly, still walking closer in slow, measured steps.
"I can't be your sister right now. I can't let something like this slide. I'm lieutenant. I'm the fuckin' lieutenant and I can't, I can't let you get away with this." Her voice was shaking even harder than before, as was the gun in her hands. She shut her eyes tightly for a second. Her defenses were down for one second but that was enough time for Dexter to lunge at her and grab the gun from her hand. He disarmed it, emptying the bullets from the clip. They clattered to the floor, rolling in all directions. Dexter cast the gun aside and Debra watched, frozen, as it skidded across the flagstone floor.
Dexter grabbed her in his arms, she struggled against him but he was so much stronger than she was, much stronger than she expected him to be. He clutched her tightly against him. "Listen to me." She fought against him but he wouldn't let go. "Listen to me, Deb! Please! I can't leave Harrison without a mother and a father. Just go. I'll take care of this. You were never here. You didn't see this. Please, Deb, please. You have to let me go." He whispered the last bit into her hair, making her shiver against him.
"What, What would you do if I didn't let you go?" Her voice was small and scared. Would her brother be willing to kill her to keep his secret? She couldn't voice that question out loud.
"I'd never hurt you," Dexter said quietly, as if he could read her mind. "But Harrison is my son, my number one priority, and if you take me away from him… I don't want to hurt you."
"But you could hurt me… you could kill me if it meant keeping this a secret?"
"No!" Dexter finally released her. His face was contorted with frustration and anger as he paced back and forth. For the first time Debra didn't recognize her brother. "I wouldn't kill you! I don't know what I'd do, Deb! I don't know!" He pounded against his head with both fists and grunted.
"Jesus! Stop!" Debra grabbed his hands to stop him from hurting himself. "Dex! Dex! I'll leave. I'll leave. You take care of this however you have to. Alright? Call it in as a suicide or something so we can close the case, okay? Just… just you handle it. I can't stay here. I can't know how you fuckin' do whatever it is you're gonna do, alright?" Dexter stared blankly into her face. "Alright?" she pressed. He blinked and nodded. "Okay, I'm, I'm gonna go. I'm gonna go back to the station and do some paperwork or whatever and pretend I never saw any of this. Okay?" Dexter nodded again. "Good," Deb whispered softly, releasing his hands and half-running to the door. She slammed it behind her and bolted to her car, not stopping until she had slammed herself into the driver's seat and locked the doors.
Debra buckled herself in, barely managing it with how badly her hands were shaking. She started up the car and grasped the wheel tightly, taking a minute to brace herself before taking off. The shock had kicked her into autopilot, so when she was parking in front of the station with no memory of getting there, she was surprised and impressed that she hadn't gotten into a car accident on the way. She took an extra minute to compose herself, turning the rearview mirror and carefully dabbing at her messy eye makeup with her fingers.
"Pfft, okay, you got this. If you can keep it cool for a couple of hours you can handle any fuckin' shit storm that comes flying at you from here on out," she muttered to herself as she slammed her car door shut and walked into the building.
She headed straight for her office with a determined purpose that no one disrupted. Clutching both hands on the doorknob to keep from slamming it, she gently shut her door. Her eyes peered at her fellow officers through the blinds. Everyone was consumed with finding DDK, completely unaware of the secret weighing in the pit of her stomach like a pound of maggots wriggling inside her. DDK was Dead. Dexter was a killer. She flipped the blinds shut and took a seat behind her desk, clenching and unclenching her fists in her lap.
The ticking of the second hand on the little watch on her wrist became the most fascinating thing, distracting her from the files she attempted to pore over while waiting for a call to come in. Debra slammed her head down on the pile of cases on her desk and groaned but her door bursting open a second later made her jump out of her seat.
"Sorry, ma'am," Detective Anderson apologized. "But your brother's called in DDK's apparent suicide at the abandoned church." Deb nodded mutely. "Lieutenant Morgan?" Anderson asked, clearly expecting something more from her minimal reaction.
"Fuckin' A, yeah! Let's get everyone over at the scene right the fuck n-now," Debra said, trying to channel her usual self. Anderson nodded and strode out of her office, rounding up Masuka and some officers to head over to the scene. She followed after the quickly-assembled team, getting in her car and chasing after the lights and sirens that guided her way back to the church.
The church loomed out of the darkness as Debra's car came to a crawl. Masuka ran by, snapping on a latex glove and nearly skipping past as she parked her car. She followed him into the church, stricken with a desperate urge to vomit for the second time that evening at what she saw. She moved forward, stepping to instinctually avoid the area of floor she had thrown up on earlier but when she glanced down she saw that, of course, Dexter had cleaned it up. He had cleaned it all up - no trace of evidence of his involvement in Travis Marshall's death could be found, and no evidence of Debra witnessing that death. The sanctuary told a different story now.
Debra clapped a hand over her mouth and stepped forward to inspect Travis Marshall's body, no longer trapped on a table. Now he sat sprawled naked at the foot of the crucifix with a slash in each cheek and the wound that Deb had seen Dexter stab into his chest, the source of a thick dried dribble of blood down his front. The knife lay loosely in his right palm. At his feet, a message had been scrawled out in blood. Deb steeled herself to read the words that she knew her brother had fabricated for Marshall's suicide.
It was all too perfect, the staging was meticulous and completely believable. She didn't need a forensic eye to know Dexter had crafted the perfect cover-up to his crime.
"After all that, the guy just kills himself? Wow. Let-down," Masuka said with a giggle.
Debra turned to him and he immediately shrank back, the awkward smile sliding from his face as she spoke. "Are you fuckin' kidding me? Bastard kills himself and you're disappointed that, what? There weren't fuckin' pyrotechnics blasting into the sky to signify this shit-fucker's death? How 'bout being just a little fuckin' happy that DDK's dead and that he can't kill any more innocent people?"
"Geez, sorry," Masuka muttered, taking another step back and averting his eyes from Debra.
The satisfaction she would have normally felt from yelling at Vince Masuka didn't hit her, instead her eyes wandered over to Dexter and her heart sank in her chest. He looked no different than he would at any other crime scene. She didn't know what she was looking for as she studied his face - maybe it was the hope for some glimmer of guilt or… humanity. She walked over to him, stopping a few feet away and standing there hesitantly for a moment. "Dex, can I, can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked quietly.
Dexter looked at her blankly. "Uh, now's not a great time, Deb. I have to finish photographing the scene," he told her matter-of-factly.
"Right. Um, okay, later then?" He nodded and moved away from her, lifting his camera to eye level and snapping a shot that lit up the whole sanctuary for a split second.
Debra clenched and unclenched her jaw before walking over to Angel. He looked over at her and an expression of concern colored his features. "You okay, Deb?" he asked.
"Yeah, well, uh, no," she fumbled, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Angel raised an eyebrow at her. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Um, happy 'bout the case closing, obviously, but I'm not feeling so hot so I think I'm gonna head out. Can you and Anderson take point on this for tonight?" she asked.
Angel nodded. Deb gave him a weak smile and started to walk towards the door. "You heading back to the precinct to prepare a statement?" he asked.
She turned back to him, a blank expression plastered to her face. "Uh…"
"'Cause you know Maria's gonna wanna hold a press conference the second you can declare the case officially closed," Angel elaborated.
"Oh, shit. Right, LaGuerta and her fuckin' press conferences," Debra muttered, running a hand over her forehead. Angel gave a little chuckle. Deb dropped her hand by her side. "Look, Angel, I-I just gotta get out of here for now. I'm feeling kinda sick. I'll deal with LaGuerta in the morning."
"Okay. Are you sure you're gonna be okay?" Angel asked, the concern still etched on his face.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. I just need to get the fuck outta here. Thanks, Angel," she said giving him a clap on the shoulder before leaving the sanctuary. It took all the effort she had not to full-out run from the church.
It only took one knock for Jamie to open the door with Harrison resting on her hip. "Oh, hi Debra," she said, looking slightly surprised to see her there.
"Hey. Just came to have a little quality time with my nephew. So, uh, I can take it from here," Debra said, stepping into Dexter's apartment.
"Oh, sure. Let me just grab my things," Jamie said, putting Harrison down and grabbing up her textbooks from off the kitchen counter. She packed them into her bag and swung it over one shoulder before kneeling down in front of Harrison. "Hey buddy, I'm gonna go now but your Auntie Debra's gonna play with you. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
"'Kay, bye bye Jamie," Harrison said, giving his nanny a tiny hug.
"Thanks," Debra said as she shut the door behind Jamie. She turned to Harrison. "Hey Hare, how are ya?" Harrison gave her a brilliant smile before turning and running to his room. He giggled as he plopped down on the floor and began playing with the pieces of a large foam puzzle. Debra took a seat across from him and twirled one of the foam pieces on its edge. It flopped over onto the carpet and Harrison giggled again.
Debra smiled in spite of herself. "You're a little angel, you know that?"
"Yeah," Harrison said nonchalantly, grabbing a tiny blue truck and rolling it over the puzzle pieces. He yawned.
"You tired, buddy?" Deb asked.
"No." Harrison shook his head defiantly and continued rolling the blue truck around. He yawned again.
"I'm not sure I believe ya, big man. Let's get you to bed," Debra said, standing up and holding a hand out to Harrison. He pretended not to see it. "Fine. You leave me no choice," Deb said with a little sigh before grabbing him up under the armpits and flying him over to his crib like an airplane. Harrison shrieked with laughter, rolling around in his crib once she had put him down. Debra laid a hand on his stomach to calm him down. He settled down and she grabbed the folded-up blanket that hung over the edge of the crib and spread it over him. He looked up at her with big blue eyes.
"Want Daddy tuck me in," Harrison told her.
"He'll be home in a little while to give you a goodnight kiss, alright?" Harrison nodded. Deb ruffled his blond hair and walked out of the room, pausing in the doorway to turn out the light. "Good night, Hare."
"Good nigh, Awny Deb."
Debra closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment. Her knees didn't feel strong enough to keep her standing. She wobbled to the couch, plopping down on it and and taking a deep breath. She had to clutch her leg to keep it from bouncing nervously. She wanted to tear off that couch and rip through the apartment, looking for some evidence as to who her brother really was. But she remained rooted to the spot. The police officer in her couldn't believe she wasn't taking the opportunity to search the place but the sister in her hated that she was even considering breaching her brother's privacy.
She took a deep breath and pulled out her cell phone, scrolling through the contacts and finding some small comfort in the sound of the beep that repeated as she went through each person's name.
The door opened on her third run-through of contacts and she jumped up from the couch. Dexter stood framed in the doorway for a moment, studying her before stepping in and shutting the door behind him with a quick snap. Debra flinched at the small, harsh sound.
"T-Talk to me, Dex," Debra said softly, standing up and stowing her phone in her pocket. She hooked her thumbs through her belt loops as she waited for him to respond. Dexter let out a low stream of air as he perched on the edge of the couch's armrest. "Dexter!" Debra prodded, her voice somewhere between a whine and a growl. It reminded her too much like her teenage self for her own taste.
"What do you want me to say, Deb?" Dexter asked quietly.
"Fuck if I know! Just… something. I don't know what to think here. Help me out." She unhooked her thumbs from the belt loops and crossed her arms in front of her chest, shifting her weight from one hip and then the other. The silence pressed in on her ears until it felt like her head might implode.
"Dex -" the words began to tumble from her mouth before she could sort through them and process what she was saying, "You don't think I didn't fuckin' recognize the way you laid out DDK? It's the same way Rudy or Brian or whatever the fuck his name was - It's, it's the same way he tried to kill me years ago! He said he was paying homage to another killer. He knew about Doakes, he knew about how he wrapped his victims in plastic. The Ice Truck Killer and the Bay Harbor Butcher - Those are who you're modeling yourself after? Dexter… just… what the fuck?" She collapsed back onto the couch, no longer able to speak.
She hadn't consciously made the connection between what her ex-fiance had done to her years ago and what she had seen Dexter do to DDK until she had spoken the words out loud. It was all too unsettling, the sort of revelation she would desperately need to share with her brother. And she had done just that. Only Dexter no longer felt like the safe place she could go to to clear her head and sort things out. And yet he was still the only place she had.
"I know," Dexter finally said. He seemed to be searching for his words. Debra hated how he always remained so composed and measured. "I know my methods were reminiscent of those killers, but Deb, I work for the police, I know the ins and outs of those cases. I saw what was effective… and I used it."
"Effective? Yeah, until they got caught!" Debra ran a hand through her hair, standing and pacing in agitation. "Effective? Jesus Christ, Dexter, I always knew you could be cold but not that you were made of fuckin' ice. What you did to DDK wasn't about 'effective'. It was about what… felt right to you. Look, I'd be lying if I said I was sad to see a psycho killer kick it but… I just wan't fuckin' ready to see you -"
"You weren't ready to see me?" Dexter cut her off softly. Debra faltered, stopping her pacing and looking into her brother's face.
"You, you never answered me in the church." She couldn't ask the question in her head. She didn't want the answer. But she needed it. She clenched and unclenched her jaw, finally prying the words out from down in her throat. "Was this the first time you've done this?" She looked for a clue, any kind of reaction in his face that she could read, but as usual, he was a blank slate - forever guarded around her, around everyone.
"Look, Deb, this… was premeditated. I'll admit that. But I swear, I haven't done this before." He tore his gaze from hers, taking a breath and studying his hands as he continued. "I just… I made my plan and I executed it. Now it's over. It's done."
"Are you kidding me? It's not over!" Debra yelled.
"Sh! Harrison," Dexter said, holding a hand out in the direction of his son's room.
Debra took a deep breath and lowered her voice. "Y-You're a fuckin' killer. And even if this was your first time… now I know about it. I know that my brother killed someone and it's a secret that I'm going to have to carry around for you forever. Which pretty much goes against every fucking moral code I believe in, not to mention the code of our jobs! Serve and fuckin' protect, not turn into a vigilante. The guy was a royal bastard, but you can't just take it upon yourself to take him out."
"He killed so many people and -" Dexter started.
"That doesn't justify shit! 'Cause now you killed him! You killed him. You're a killer now. What he did or didn't do - I think you're missing the fuckin' point here, Dex!" Debra growled.
"No, I understand. Everything you're saying makes sense but it's not going to get us anywhere. It's not going to get us past this. I did what I had to. Now you have to do what you need to to get over it." His tone was no longer calm and careful. It was accusatory, like somehow Debra's reaction was exhausting him and he just needed her to grow up and get past it.
"Well, excuse me for needing some fuckin' time to process this situation, asshole!" she yelled.
"Stop. You're going to wake up Harrsion," Dexter hissed. The fire drained out of Debra. She didn't know what else to say or how to get him to understand where she was coming from. She slumped down onto the couch and sighed.
"Deb, I know the difference between right and wrong but… what I did isn't as black and white as that."
"Jesus, fuck," Debra whispered, pressing a hand against her chest. It hurt to try to get in a deep breath. Dexter stood from his perch on the armrest and made to go over to her but she jumped up, holding her hands out to ward him off. "Just - just stay the fuck away from me, Dexter," she muttered, slipping by him and out of the apartment.
Debra was happy to turn the press conference over to LaGuerta's control. She stood at Maria's right side, just a few steps behind the podium while the cameras rolled and flashed in her face. She could practically hear the smile in Maria's voice as she delivered the news to the press. Once she was done with her statement the press fielded their question to Debra. She cleared her throat and switched places with LaGuerta, gripping the sides of the podium to steady herself.
The minute the conference ended Debra slipped away. "Deb!" Maria called to her in the hall. Debra turned to her, hand tapping against her knee in some desperate antsy morse code. "Would you like to grab lunch to celebrate?"
"Uh, raincheck?" Deb shot back, not really waiting for an answer before escaping.
Debra found herself seeking refuge in her car again, taking a moment to collect herself before starting it up and heading to her apartment. She collapsed onto her unmade bed the minute she got in, flopping against the loose sheets. She lied there for a minute before sitting up and stripping off her clothes and yanking a sheet over her. She tried to focus on the cool material against her skin instead of the feeling of bugs crawling beneath her flesh. She let her eyes fall shut as she attempted to take deep, calming breaths. She was falling apart at the seams, impressed that she was keeping it together in public as much as she was but realizing that was only true because she was limiting her exposure to the outside world.
A knock against the partially ajar bedroom door made her shoot up in bed. "Deb?" Dexter's voice spoke quietly through the door. She grabbed her top from off the floor and yanked it over her head.
What the hell is he doing here? she thought, panic making her heartbeat flutter up into the base of her throat.
"Deb, are you okay?" Dexter asked softly as he entered her room, brow furrowing with concern for her. She nodded weakly, biting her lip and wishing that her brother wasn't standing in front of her right then. He closed the distance between them, taking a seat next to her on the bed.
"Uh, y— Well… sorta," Debra muttered, unable to look him in the eye. She let out a slow stream of air before attempting to say anything else. "No, actually, I'm not okay. I'm fuckin' losing it here and —" she was cut off by Dexter's lips brushing against hers. She felt her breath catch in her chest, frozen in shock. But instead of pushing him off, she found her eyes sliding shut as she allowed herself to enjoy the kiss, putting her arms around Dexter's neck and feeling a tingle down her spine when he wrapped his arms around her waist. Dexter leaned in, pressing Debra back onto the bed. She felt his hands drift from her back to her sides and then to her stomach, grabbing the hem of her shirt and sliding it up over her ribs. She moaned quietly, waiting for his next move. She couldn't explain why she was taking comfort and distraction in the very person she wanted to run from, should run from, but she chose not to question it.
"Is this okay?" Dexter whispered against her lips.
"Y-Yeah," Debra replied softly. They kissed again, only breaking apart for Dexter to pull Debra's shirt off. Dexter leaned back, inspecting Deb for a moment. She felt a sudden wave of self-consciousness and shame. She wrapped her arms around herself but Dexter grabbed her hands in his. "You're beautiful," he said quietly, eyes staring intently at her.
"Why are you doing this?" Debra asked so softly she wasn't even sure if she had spoken the words aloud. He didn't answer so she just watched as one of Dexter's hands hovered above the button of her jeans. He waited for her to protest and when she didn't, he undid the button, moving on to the zipper where he slid it down one tooth at a time. His other hand reached for something behind Deb's head. She tried to look behind her but she couldn't get the right angle to see. She felt something cool in his hand drag down between the bed and her back. It sent a shiver through her spine. When he got down to her hip he pulled his hand out from under her, a knife clenched in his fist.
"Dex, what —?" He plunged the knife into her belly. She shrieked in pain as he yanked it out and swung it back in. She could feel her blood flowing freely, spilling out of her and down her sides. She tried to struggle against her brother but the knife was in so deep that it pinned her in place. And even while screaming for him to stop she was still screaming to him to save her.
Debra shot up in bed, sobbing and clutching her stomach. But her skin was smooth and dry and she felt no pain. Fuck. You were asleep. It's okay. It was only a nightmare, only a fuckin' creepy-ass murderous… incestuous nightmare, she thought to herself, shuddering. Just a nightmare. She forced herself to lie back down, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets and yanking them up to her chin.
Debra paused outside her therapist's office, staring at the gleaming nameplate on the door that read 'Dr. Michelle Ross'. What was she going to say? She was ready to burst but she couldn't tell Ross about Dexter's secret. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. "Come in," Michelle's voice called from inside the office.
You're gonna have to bullshit. You can't tell her… you just can't tell her anything. Wow, lying to your therapist, yeah, that's gonna help you get at the real fuckin' issues, Debra thought as she entered, avoiding Michelle's gaze and taking a seat. Just focus on the dream. You can talk about the dream, she told herself as she shifted on the couch. Fuck, I don't wanna talk about the dream.
"Are you alright, Debra? You seem a little preoccupied," Michelle prodded with a gentle smile, breaking through her thoughts. Debra finally looked at her, blinking for a moment as she waited for the right words to arrange themselves in her brain so she could speak.
"I had a really fucked up nightmare," Deb said tersely.
"What happened in the nightmare?" Michelle asked, intertwining her fingers in her lap and waiting for Debra to elaborate.
"Dexter was…" Debra took a deep breath, needing to steel herself against the shame and guilt that didn't want to let her speak. "He was on top of me, kissing me… and then he just, he fuckin' stabbed me. Right in the gut."
"What do you think that means?" Michelle asked thoughtfully, studying Debra with curious eyes.
Deb looked around the room, unable to handle Michelle's gaze. "I don't fucking know! But it's like the image that I had of my brother has been completely fuckin' shattered into a million pieces and I don't know what to think or how to feel or how the fuck I'm gonna get a handle on it. And, and —"
"Alright, Debra, I want you to breathe. In and out, nice and slow. Did anything else happen in the dream? Breathe and tell me what happened."
Debra tried to do as she was told but a sense of panic was mounting in her chest that she couldn't suppress. "No. Nothing. He stabbed me and I woke up screaming and crying like a little fuckin' kid. That's it."
"Did he say anything to you?" Michelle prodded.
"Uh, he asked me if what he was doing was okay," Deb said, still avoiding looking at her therapist.
"If what was okay?"
"Kissing me," Deb said in an almost inaudible whisper.
"And what did you say?"
"I said yes." She chanced a glance at Michelle. She couldn't read her expression so she just waited for her response.
"And is that when he stabbed you?" Michelle asked after a moment.
"Yeah. He, he called me beautiful and then he grabbed a knife from somewhere behind me and yeah, then he stabbed me."
"So you didn't see the knife at first?"
"No. What are all these questions supposed to get at here?" Debra asked, her tone more defensive than she had expected it would be.
"I don't know yet, Debra. I'm just trying to get a better sense of the dream so we can get at the root of what it means," Michelle said with a soft smile that was meant to reassure Debra but only felt patronizing to her.
"Well, uh, it probably means I shouldn't be with Dexter," Deb said coldly, crossing her arms in front of her chest and sinking down a little further into the couch in a defiant way.
"Because he'll end up hurting you the way other men in your life have?"
"How about because he's my fuckin' brother and it just shouldn't be something that ever enters my fuckin' brain? And, and who the fuck are you to try to push me in that direction? What kind of sick agenda are you trying to push to get me with him? Why would you want me with him?" Debra looked at Michelle now, standing up and clenching her fists at her side.
"Debra, I'm not here to push you to do anything, I only want to help you realize —"
"I can't trust you. I can't trust him. I don't have anyone to fucking go to!" Debra burst out, shaking her hands out before jamming them through her hair. "Fuck, I-I gotta go. I can't handle this shit right now," Deb muttered as she ran from the office. Michelle followed after her, calling to her as she sped down the hall.
"Please come back and at least finish the session, I don't want you leaving in this state," Michelle said. Debra ignored her, making her way out of the building without a glance back.
Debra found herself staring out at the marina, watching the waves created by passing boats. She sat down on the dock, slipping off her shoes and dipping her feet into the cool water. She sat like that for a while, taking in slow, deep breaths. Against her better judgment, she found herself texting her brother, telling him to meet her there. She put the phone down beside her on the dock. Barely a moment passed until she heard the buzz of the cell vibrating against the wood. She opened Dexter's reply.
OK. Be there in half hour.
The image Debra had of her brother now was tainted. The altar of plastic, the knife, the elaborate cover-up, her dream… And while the last one wasn't technically his fault, it still felt real. He was no longer just the boy she grew up with. He was something else now too. The minutes ticked by slowly. As each one passed, she felt the panic bubble up in her, until it was overpowering and telling her to run away. But she couldn't. She had to confront him. He hadn't given her enough to make sense of it. Or maybe he had and she just wasn't willing to put the pieces together.
A shadow grew over her. She jerked around to see Dexter standing behind her. She stood on the dock to face him, water pooling at her feet.
"You wanted to talk?" Dexter asked. Debra nodded, licking her lips nervously and trying to figure out exactly what she wanted to say.
She picked her shoes up off the dock and began walking. Her brother strode along beside her, leaving a foot of space between them. She was careful to maintain that distance. "Like… five years ago, when that motherfucker, Doakes, was gunning for you…" she began, again feeling the sensation of not knowing what she was going to say until she said it. "It's 'cause he knew there was something in you, something that was —" she cast about for a word that could fit her brother. What she had seen him do to DDK could be labeled evil. But she couldn't call him that. She couldn't think of Dexter in that way. "Something that was… dark," Deb finished, squinting against the sun as she stared into her brother's face. There was a vague flicker there, something that looked like relief.
"A dark passenger," Dexter whispered, a spark lighting somewhere behind his usually guarded eyes.
Debra shook her head in confusion. "What?" she asked.
The spark extinguished itself. "Nothing," Dexter said with a shake of his head.
"Goddammit, Dex!" Debra grunted, leaning down and slipping her shoes back on before settling her hands on her hips. "Don't shut me out. I need to know what's going on with you!"
"You know. You just wish you didn't. And I'm sorry. I wish you didn't have to know either. But you do now. I don't know how to fix that."
Debra sighed. He was right. She desperately wished she hadn't seen what she'd seen. Better yet, she wished there was no big, dark secret in the first place. Nothing to uncover. Dexter was her brother. He was the father of a sweet little boy. He wasn't supposed to be this other thing. This person with a dark passenger.
"Where does that leave us?" Deb asked after a moment of silence.
"I don't know."
"Fan-fuckin'-tastic," Deb murmured. She raked a hand through her hair and sighed. "I'm gonna, I'm gonna go," she said.
"I thought you wanted to talk," Dexter said in a maddeningly calm voice. Of course she wanted to talk. But wanting something and being able to do it were two entirely different things, and in this case, irreconcilable.
"Yeah, well neither one of us knows what the fuck to say so the point's kinda moot, isn't it?" Debra shouted, turning back the way they had come and half-running to her car. Attempting to confront something and then running in the opposite direction, it was becoming a pattern for Deb. One that she wasn't particularly proud of, but it was all she could manage.
o O o
She took a seat behind her desk, steepling her fingers together and brushing her chin over her fingertips as she thought. The shades were drawn but she could still catch glimpses of movement from beyond the glass. An interaction she had had with her brother years ago popped into her head. It felt like something she had stuffed into a back drawer in her brain. Only the drawer had sprung open all of a sudden and she remembered so clearly it could have happened yesterday.
"Can you take a look at this for me?" she asked, handing Dexter the profile she had compiled.
Dexter flipped through the pages before looking at her. "Copycat killer?" he asked, a slight note of incredulity humming in his voice.
"I worked all night on that profile," she told her brother proudly. "I'd like to give it to LaGuerta but I want to make sure it's good enough."
"I'm honored," Dexter said, looking back down to the file. He began to read aloud from it. "'The similar manner in which the victim's body was displayed suggests this killer feels a connection to the Ice Truck Killer… excited by what he's doing. The cut on the victim's cheek, while not fatal, appears to be a signature of sorts. Because of the lack of evidence found at the crime scene the suspect may be familiar with law enforcement or forensics procedure.' Huh."
"Ugh, why'd you quit? You're just gettin' to the good stuff," she said with a grin.
"Let me guess. Single white male in his thirties, lives alone, disconnected from his emotions. It's a little textbook, don't ya think?" He gave her a sympathetic smile that bordered on condescending.
"But it totally fits this case," Deb pressed.
"Or you're trying to make it fit. My advice," he handed the file back to her, "Keep this to yourself."
Deb pressed a hand to her mouth as the memory faded out of focus, slipping itself inconspicuously back into that drawer tucked away in her mind. She had been on to something. Not something. Someone specifically. Dexter. She never would have guessed at the time but the description fit him like a glove. He had protected his secret then, at the expense of knocking her confidence down a few pegs. She was ashamed to realize she wasn't sure what she was more upset about: that Dexter really was this horrible person who had killed before or that he had been an unsupportive brother to her. A tiny manic laugh erupted from her lips. She stifled it quickly and shook her head.
Deb thought back to a discussion she had had with LaGuerta after Doakes had been killed and his name besmirched with the moniker of the Bay Harbor Butcher. She remembered realizing that LaGuerta's conscious denial made perfect sense. If LaGuerta could be tricked by someone so close to her (a murderer, according to everyone), she wouldn't be able to trust anyone else ever again.
She'd never be able to trust her own judgment again. LaGuerta couldn't. And neither could Debra.
Everything that had happened in the past was suddenly called into question. Lundy had noted that the depressions in skin of the Bay Harbor Butcher's victims indicated that he wrapped them in plastic.
The plastic altar DDK had been trussed up in like a goddamn turkey shrink-wrapped at the supermarket. The plastic that Rudy… Brian had wrapped Debra herself in.
Debra shuddered in her seat. Doakes wasn't the Bay Harbor Butcher. He hadn't been chasing after Dexter because he sensed a darkness in him. He had been gunning for Dex because he knew that Dexter was the Butcher.
It all clicked into place. It was chillingly simple. Of course, Debra had no real proof to back up her gut, but she knew she was right. She had been in denial for years. The clues were there along the way but she had never pieced them together. She hadn't wanted to. Or maybe it wasn't denial. Maybe it was blindness or stupidity. She couldn't have fathomed it a few days ago. But now she could. And she wished to god she couldn't.
She slipped out of work an hour early, drove over to Dexter's and parked outside his apartment. She just waited for him to get home. She knew what she had to do once he arrived. An hour and twenty-three minutes later, Dexter's car pulled in beside hers. The exchanged glances through the windows of their cars before walking to his apartment together. He held the door open for her without a word. She stepped inside.
"Hey, look who's home!" Jamie said excitedly to Harrison. He clapped his hands and ran over to his father.
Dexter picked him and spun around. "Hey buddy!" He lifted Harrison up high so the little boy could sit on his shoulders. "Thanks Jamie," he said as he pulled his wallet from his pocket and paid her for the week. She smiled and nodded before leaving.
Debra pushed the curtain aside a bit to watch Jamie walking away. When she was out of sight, Debra turned back to Dexter. She glanced up at the grinning blond boy on his shoulders before quickly bringing her focus back to her brother.
"Look… I put it together," she said. Dexter cocked his head slightly and opened his mouth but she cut him off before he could begin. "Don't say anything. Don't play dumb. I know." Dexter stood frozen for a few seconds. Then he gave a curt little nod and waited for her to continue while Harrison ran his little hands through Dexter's hair.
Tears filled Deb's eyes and her voice choked in her throat. "You have to leave. You're my brother. I love you. I can't turn you in. I can't make my nephew an orphan," she whispered, clearing her throat and regaining her voice. "You need to take Harrison and go. Far away. Don't tell me where. I can't know. But you need to go, like, now."
Deb stared at her big brother. She had expected something more. Some fight. Indignation, anger. Anything.
"Alright," Dexter said again.
"Okay then," Debra said with a terse nod. She exhaled slowly and reached for the door handle to leave.
"Thank you," Dexter said softly as she slid the door open. She nodded, unable to speak, before slipping out.
She managed to get all the way back home before collapsing on the kitchen floor in a mess of sobs. She cried harder than she ever had before, her throat raw and aching, her cheeks burning, tears and snot sliding down her face. Her mother was gone, so was her father, and now Dexter too. But never in a billion years would she have expected to lose him this way. They were both supposed to grow old, siblings and best friends and they'd die together in their nineties.
Debra wasn't supposed to lose him to this terrible secret. To lose her brother to this monster he really was. She wasn't supposed to banish him because she was a coward who couldn't do what her job demanded of her. She loved him too much for him to stay. She couldn't risk anyone discovering what he was. And she couldn't risk seeing him every day and only seeing a killer.
o O o
Dexter wasn't at work the next day. When asked about it Debra redirected with a "Oh, he hasn't called in or anything. I don't know where he is. I'll give him a call." She retreated to her office again, pulling out her cell phone and scrolling through her contacts until she reached Dexter's name. She stared at it for a moment then shut the phone off.
He wasn't there the day after either. She didn't know what she'd expected. She had told him to leave. Did she think he'd still show up at the office? Maybe pack up a few things before hitting the road? Debra found an email in her inbox titled 'Resignation'. She clicked on it and saw that it had been forwarded to everyone else in their division as well.
Hello all,
I'm sorry I'm not saying a proper goodbye but I wanted to let you all know I'm leaving Miami. I will deeply value the time I spent working with you. Thank you.
- Dexter
She stared at the words on the screen. They shimmered and blurred as her vision became clouded by tears. Masuka burst into her office, waving a page in his hand. It was a print-out of Dexter's email.
"What the hell is this supposed to mean?" he asked indignantly, thrusting the page in front of her.
She shrugged. "I don't know. I just saw. He, he didn't talk to me about it," Debra said, shrugging again and fighting to keep from bursting into tears in front of Masuka of all people.
"What? You're his sister and he didn't tell you any—"
"FUCK OFF, MASUKA!" Debra screamed, rising from her desk and gripping its edges tightly. She balled up the printed email and threw it in his face. He hurried from her office, muttering nervously under his breath as he went. She followed and closed the door behind him before returning to her seat and noticing another email in her inbox. It had no subject title but it was from Dexter. She clicked on it. This message was sent only to her.
I love you.
- Dexter
As closure went, it didn't seem particularly heartfelt or satisfying but Deb knew it was the best she'd get. She heard a knock on her door, followed by Angel peering his head into her office. "Hey Deb, did you see th—"
"Yeah," she cut him off. "I don't know anymore than you. Could you just… could you go out there and tell everyone that? Tell them I don't wanna talk about it. I'm looking for someone to fill the position and that's all they need to know."
"But —"
"Angel, please," Deb begged. He nodded, tipping his hat to her over his knitted eyebrows before leaving her office.
She pulled her cell phone out and called Dexter. It went immediately to voicemail. "You've reached Dexter Morgan's cell phone. Leave a message." Deb hung up before the beep. She vowed not to call again.
After a grueling day of work and a very concerned call from LaGuerta about Dexter's sudden departure, Deb left the precinct and drove the familiar route to her brother's apartment. The door was ajar. She slipped inside to see the place completely empty. He really was gone.
She broke the promise she had made to herself just a few hours ago not to call again. She wanted to hear his stupid fucking voice, even if it was just a recording, even just for a few seconds.
An automated message greeted her. "I'm sorry. The number you have dialed is not in service at this time." She hung up the phone and slid down the wall beside the door, crumpling in upon herself, a tangle of limbs.
Her brother was gone from her. Really, truly gone. She had sent him away. She had done what she thought she had to. She wanted to say she didn't regret it. But that old familiar instinct to turn to Dexter when she wasn't sure of herself gnawed at her. She couldn't turn to him anymore. He had left. Deb wondered if he was gone forever, if she'd ever see him again.
She never did.
A/N: The flashback memory is directly from episode 1x06 "Return to Sender", written by Tim Schlattmann. All dialogue from that scene belongs to him.
So that's all folks, the end. Horrible ending, but if I'm honest, I could sort of see it happening. Not necessarily in the actual series because the show is so set in Miami and with the cast of characters it has that to send Dexter off and away would totally mess with that. But I could see this being something the characters would do if they weren't bound by the constrictions of their own medium.
And just because Deb never saw Dexter again, it doesn't mean he didn't check up on her. I think he would. He'd make sure she wouldn't know and he'd watch and make sure she was alright.


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New CC with new poses!
I am truly crazy in making them. XD
Pics one all three poses are under adjusting,
and will be soon released in Random Pose Set 02.
Thanks to clothing creators new outfit.
Clothing | Simsimi, Sughomie, JS SIMS
Shoes | Pixicat
Accessory | Julies
Poses | dreampainter, me

subset: commoncrawl


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Conceptually the idea seems acceptable but the truth is it also seems extremely unrealistic. The following information is quoted directly from the proposal:
"Companies providing web, video, and other forms of browser applications should provide functionality (i.e., a browser feature, plug-in, or extension) that allows users to import or otherwise use the "do not track" list of domain names, keep the list up-to-date, and block domains on the list from tracking their internet activity."
It seems to me that the coalition doesn't want the consumers to have to make any effort to protect themselves but rather push the burden back on the businesses meeting the demand of the consumers.
When the "do not call" list was implemented the burden of having to comply with that ruling was not one felt by all nearly all businesses but rather a small few whose businesses themselves were directly and often overwhelming invading in an uncontrolled way the consumers way of life. This is just not the case with web based companies.
In my mind consumers have the right to visit or not visit a website as they see fit. Consumers already have protections, some provided directly from advertising organizations, as well as browser based security protections, and anti virus options to keep cookies, software, and other unwanted materials off of their systems.
Not being technical and or not being web savvy enough to protect one's information doesn't seem like a good enough reason to want to pass legislation to bring the federal government into the online advertising arena and allow them to dictate for the perceived benefit of the consumer what and or what types of surfing information an advertising network may collect. What do you think?


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Art Exhibitions
Allen Memorial Art Exhibitions 2014-15
The Americas is the special focus of exhibitions, lectures, and other programs throughout the year.
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Violin 2015 | Piano 2014
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Concerto-round performance with the Cleveland Orchestra. Competition is presented by the Oberlin Conservatory of Music, the Cleveland Orchestra and showcases the most promising young musicians from around the world. The competition provides more than $20,000 in prize money and concert engagements with orchestras in Beijing and Shanghai, China.


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LANSING (WKZO) -- One west Michigan state lawmaker is proposing legislation that would allow some Michigan students to have vocational credits count more toward high school graduation. State Senator John Proos says that Senate Bill 66 is designed around the notion that not all high school graduates are necessarily headed for a four year college, but some might still pursue a skilled trade.
Proos says that, under his legislation, some students would be able to have skilled trade classes count for graduation without having to meet certain other requirements. The plan has the backing of several education and business organizations.
Also this week, Proos said that the predicted state budget surplus for this year is proof that reforms made by lawmakers and approved by Governor Rick Snyder have made a difference. However, Proos isn't taking a definite position yet on how the surplus should be used. Some want it to be spent on fixing Michigan's roads, while others are calling for a tax cut. Still others think taxpayers should be sent rebate checks. Proos says that, whatever is done, lawmakers should be prudent about it.


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Sampling the Sublime at the Delano in Miami Beach, Florida
With an enormous chessboard worthy of Alice in Wonderland, a whimsical outdoor canopy bed, hammocks slung from citrus trees, and an elevated infinity pool with a table and chairs in the shallow end, The Delano is at once elegant and wacky—the sort of hotel Lewis Carroll might have dreamed up. The public spaces are draped in billowy white sheers and crammed with art by the likes of Man Ray and Salvador Dali and furnishings by Antoni Gaudi and Mark Newson. The rooms are spectacular (and expensive), and the Blue Sea sushi bar offers astounding choices, among them, caviar and kobe rolls and Asian creme brulée. If you can't afford to stay, at least dress up and go to lunch.


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David A. Frisby, III Tribute, June 2013
David A. Frisby, III Tribute, June 2013
Goddard Videos
Education Program Director Sue Fleming made this beautiful slideshow tribute of the late David Frisby, faculty advisor at Goddard from 1992-2013.
Goddard Videos
Watch More Goddard Videos
Baba Israel is a twice... more
The wife of Goddard College founding president Royce S. "Tim" Pitkin, Helen Pitkin, discusses the early history of Goddard Seminary. Helen Pitkin filled many different roles at Goddard College... more
About Goddard
Watch Goddard alumnus and jazz saxophonist Archie Shepp (BA RUP '59) receive the Goddard College Award for Excellence and perform at Goddard College's Haybarn Theatre in Plainfield,... more
Larry Reiner (BA RUP '56) called in to the Goddard Storyphone to share his memories of Goddard College during the 1950s: "I am from the old school," he says, and more. Video has... more
150 Years
The Pratt Family and Goddard College have been connected since 1949 when his grandfather Eliot joined the Board. Chris now serves on the Goddard Board of Trustees and, like his father and... more


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Romeo and Juliet
Critics PicksBen Brantley RECOMMENDS Charles Isherwood RECOMMENDS
Readers Favorites
The following shows have received ratings of at least four stars from Times readers.BROADWAY OFF BROADWAY
13 Readers' Reviews
December 10th, 201312:21 pm
Took the kids to NYC a week ago, and in particular to share Shakespeare with them via his greatest and most accessible work, Romeo and Juliet.
Just didn't expect a high school performance (for $150 a pop), complete with the reluctant, cool high school quarterback as Romeo.
What a let down.
Orlando, next time your agent suggests recharging your acting creds with a Broadway performance, I'd suggest another Hobbit movie instead.
— Quin, DC
October 29th, 201312:41 pm
It was a challenge to find a show my sister and I would both enjoy, so I figured "Romeo and Juliet" with two cast members she would recognize (which was the point of hiring them, right?) and actors I had seen before on Broadway, it would be a pretty good bet.. The first scenes were not encouraging. The set moved well and formed useful door and wall shapes, but the blazing gas braziers and torches seemed a too obvious nod to flaming hatred and burning sexual passion. Mr. Bloom indeed arrived on a motorcycle, but hey, Emilio Sagi had macho Nathan Gunn do the same out at San Francisco Opera a few years back when Figaro rode laps around the huge stage, while singing the opening "La, la, la, LAY las" of "Largo al factotum." When Orlando took off his helmet , the teenage girls in the audience squealed in delight. Now that was, as my sister noted, "different." Yes, the Capulets were Black and the Montagues white, but that made sense, even when some of the Black actors used American accents, while Orlando and his kin labored on in British tones. Mr. Bloom wisely did not play Romeo as a very green teenager, but as a more mature man of the Veronese world. And it definitely suited that he would be charmed by the younger, completely inexperienced Juliet. Jayne Houdyshell created a loving and strong Angelica (Papa Capulet calls her by name!) and Christian Camargo brought plenty of sexual activity to Mercutio's carnal language, including the line about Rosaline's "quivering thigh, and the demesnes that there adjacent lie." A brave Condola Rashad spent many minutes suspended on her catafalque high above the stage, but it landed when Romeo wanted to die. If you'd like to see a modern dress R & J, I suggest you rent Baz Luhrmann's movie. It's over the top, but not in the glitzy, quick cutting way of his messy "Great Gatsby" or "Moulin Rouge." Enjoy the beautiful close-ups on their hands when they discuss pilgrims, kisses, and palms.
— pea-dash-elle, Brooklyn, NY
October 1st, 20132:48 pm
I was expecting to roll my eyes a bit at this production -- Broadway spectacle, Hollywood star, all that -- but found it a solid if not especially innovative production. There are some misfires (the opening scene and most of Act 5), but Bloom and Rashad both do good work. Their rendering of the relationship is affecting and emotionally believable, and they've got a solid handle on the verse.
The Nurse is the real standout in this production -- her scenes with Juliet are among the best in the play, and the ones that have some claim to be doing modestly new interpretative work -- but Capulet is also excellent, as is Mercutio. The black/white casting is smartly done, and not gimmicky or heavy-handed: the Capulets just happen to be black and the Montagues just happen to be white, but the feud is never made out to be about race (moreover the Capulets have a white servant, the Nurse, and Paris's race is ambiguous). It's largely a post-racial world.
I was surprised by how many empty seats were, and surprised by the mixed-to-negative reviews. It's not going to revolutionize your understanding of the play, but it's a perfectly enjoyable production, and one that seems well-pitched for both an audience with limited familiarity with Shakespeare and for those who know their way around iambic pentameter.
— BC, Upstate
September 21st, 20138:25 pm
Saw it in previews and liked it. It doesn't top the Zeffirelli movie, which is the gold standard as far as I'm concerned, but it is definitely better than Luhrmann's grand mal seizure of a movie, and it is probably one of the better stage versions I've ever seen--properly caught the lovable silliness of the two lovers in the first part, instead of making them tragic all the way through. Excellent character actors, with Chuck Cooper giving the stand-out performance as Lord Capulet: the Great Guy who stops being Great as soon as you contradict him. The Gangsta trappings will go over well with students, and frankly, I've encountered much more gimmicky interpretations of Shakespeare. (This includes a "Shrew" set in a 1920s Country Club, an '80s Times Sq. "Measure," a '70s Smiley-Face-n-Disco "Errors," and a college production of R&J set in a circus. I walked out as soon as I saw that the balcony scene involved trapezes.)
— violetta1485, NY
September 20th, 201312:06 pm
I usually take issue with Brantley in his reviews, but everything he says here is exactly what I was thinking when I saw the show.
— David, Brooklyn
September 20th, 201312:05 pm
I saw it last night (the final preview) and loved it. The play can seem old and stale if not staged very well. This production is staged very well and the concept (modern day dress and race relations) works wonderfully.
The Montagues are white. The Capulets are black. This adds a new dimension to the play. The modern day dress is very subdued and the costumes seem timeless.
The cast is great. Orlando is dynamic and Condola is sweet and touching. Jane Houdyshell is a great comic force as the nurse. Brent Carver brings a fresh feeling to the Friar.
The audience loved it and I'm sure the critics will praise it. Of course, there will be a few naysayers, but that always happens with a fresh take on Shakespeare.
— Alan H, Jersey City, NJ
September 20th, 201312:05 pm
First things first: the star of the show is Mercutio's leather jacket with contrasting grey/teal slashing scalloped contours; after that the costume designer has not done his job well. Romeo looks as if he is ready for a revival of "West Side Story," about to sing "When you're a Jet." and Juliet looks as if she walked in as Tatiana off the set of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" or as Miranda shipwrecked in "The Tempest." However, the sets designs are interesting, mixing contemporary with classically referenced frescoes on public walls. The lighting elements work beautifully in certain scenes.
The show is intermittently enjoyable up to a point but at times seems numbingly awkward. Mr. Bloom and Ms. Rashad play across from each other very well but have an erratic ( as opposed to erotic) chemistry. I enjoyed Bloom's performance as he has a natural stage presence--he moves well and has a luminous shine to his persona. His characterization grew throughout the evening and he was touching in the final moments of the tragedy.He has a pleasant tenor speaking voice; however, his vocal projection is a disaster, lacking strong, clear projection across the footlights. .
The staging seems under-populated in the first opening fight scene as well as at the Capulet ball.
The second act seems to have been truncated, with the direct intent of speeding to get to the tragic ending: this creates an unbalanced (and unintended) narrative effect.
This production was like the theatrical Cliff Notes version of "R and J,"-- intermittently enjoyable but somewhat lacking in depth, but nonetheless thankfully sparked by Mr. Bloom's sexy presence and Ms. Rashad's lovely glow.
— robert, new york. n.y.
September 20th, 201312:05 pm
An Italian tragedy -
"Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow " - Romeo and Juliet , stage 1595
An American tragedy -
"Seems like we always spend the best part of our time just saying goodbye." - A Place in the Sun , movie 1951
— la.melb, Australia
September 20th, 201312:01 pm
eh...not much passion here, totally unmoved at the end!! we should be weeping and horrified, but here, the tomb opens to light as if nothing happened 40 seconds earlier! while the play has some great lines and a great plot, it's not really a great play- probably the reason it hasn't been on Bway for 35 years,
— guy595, NY NY
September 20th, 201312:01 pm
A little generous, I would say, Mr. Brantley. The motorcycle entrance is more than cumbersome--it is an atrocity. The cuts completely obliterate the story's sense. The supporting cast--the Nurse excluded--are unwatchable--perhaps all displaced musical theatre actors more compatible, surely, with insubstantial libretti and pop-rock lyrics? Best to get this production off the stage before Mark Rylance arrives--or the host of other impeccable interpreters of Shakespeare that will be performing in New York in the upcoming year or so. Mr. Brantley: with tickets at these prices, at least let people know what they are getting into; Orlando Bloom is only shirtless for 2.5 seconds!!!
— PKB, upper west side
September 16th, 20131:07 pm
The set is nice.
Jayne Houdyshell and Chuck Cooper are clear, full voiced, and have read the play. The rest of the actors seem to think that what is most important is showing their characters feelings about what they are saying, while making very little sense of the actual lines and story telling.
The set is nice.
Mr. Bloom is really super handsome. But he lacks the requisite technical skill to fill the theatre rhetorically, let alone vocally. He is physically awkward, not in a good way.
Ms. Rashad nicely marries her natural charm with her minimal skill to give us something passable.
Mr. Carver once again makes his scenes about showing us how different and quirky he is.
The set is nice.
Mr. Leveaux gives us a bloodless, passionless production. The actors tend to wander aimlessly.
There seems to be an assumption that the audience won't know the difference. But we do. None of the production thrills or sticks in any good way.
But the set is nice. Really nice.
— JKikis, New York, NY
September 12th, 20137:55 am
Within the first five minutes of Romeo and Juliet the audience is treated to; a pyrotechnics show, a flying live bird, amplified kettledrums and a movie star arriving on a motorcycle. It isn't until the arrival of the Capulets, all played to beautiful perfection, that we realize that this is a show that has something for everyone...http://heresheisboys.com/2013/09/12/romeo-and-juliet-review/
— Brenda Tobias, New York, New York
September 6th, 201311:50 am
My husband and I saw this version of Romeo and Juliet last night. It was wonderful! Made contemporary by the staging (Romeo enters on a motorcycle) but classical by the language, this play hits all the right notes. Orlando Bloom as Romeo and Condola Rashad as Juliet are very believable as the star crossed lovers. This limited run play is Must See!
— PKT27, NewYork
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Feb 01, 2013 5:24 PM
Gay Equality Bowl? Of course - what did you expect?!?!?! Quarterbacks now "wear skirts" to be "protected," WR's can't be hit when they're "defenseless," and the whole league wears pink. To quote Bruiser LaRue: "I LOVE football! It's absolutely FABulous!! Bodies here, Bodies there, Bodies, bodies, EVERYWHERE!!"


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Harbour Town House Rental Photos and Description
Single family House with private pool, 3 Bedrooms, 3 Baths, (Sleeps 8)
Autumn is a great time of year to enjoy beautiful Sea Pines. Weekly rentals still available now at a discounted rate! 30 Stoney Creek is the ideal place to enjoy Sea Pines. Weeks book quickly, so why hesitate? Get your autumn 2014 vacation planned now. A perfect location for your family to enjoy lovely Sea Pines and Harbour Town! Walk through the front door and start your vacation. Our three bedroom Stoney Creek Road home has a beautiful view of the Pete Dye Heron Point Golf Course and is just steps to the Harbour Town Golf Links & Tennis Center and local shopping. We have a private (HEATED EXTRA FEE) pool surrounded by a multi-tiered deck. The master suite overlooks a beautiful par 5, 11th fairway on the Heron Point Golf Course and has sliders to our oversized deck. Deck furniture and gas grill make outside dining easy and comfortable. Bicycles, beach chairs and towels, umbrellas and boogie boards are here for your use at the nearby beaches. Another plus (which most rentals do not offer) is FREE TENNIS at the South Beach Tennis Club!
There is a king-size bed in the master and first guest bedrooms, the second guest bedroom has two double beds. All three bedrooms have their own private full baths. The living/dining room is very large with a huge sectional sofa, large dining table. Great room has a wet bar and 55' HD TV. Our eat-in kitchen overlooks the pool and it's tiered decking. Several lounge chairs and deck chairs are ready for you to sit in and relax. Full length rear deck has lounge chairs, outdoor dining, gas grill and view of the entire par 5 eleventh hole at Heron Point.
There is always something to do in Sea Pines. Home of the South Beach Racquet Club, Sea Pines Racquet Club, Lawton Stables Equestrian Center, South Beach Marina, Sea Pines Beach Club with outside restaurant overlooking the ocean, and Harbour Town. Sea Pines is famous for its three championship golf courses including Harbour Town Golf Links, home of the PGA Tour's Heritage Classic. We're just a five minute walk away!
Whether you come to golf, play tennis, have a family vacation or just relax...you will love our home and Sea Pines.
The Harbour Town Marina, with its famous red and white lighthouse, hosts yachts over 100 feet long, restaurants, charming shops, and outdoor activities. You can walk to Harbour Town, where you can shop, eat, or watch the boats and spectacular sunsets with your family and friends. The Sea Pines Trolley will take you to our beautiful beach (free). We have20 miles of bicycle trails and you can also bike on the 12 mile beach.
Staying in our home will be your most enjoyable vacation ever.
Keywords: house, Stoney Creek Rd, Sea Pines, Harbour Town
- Suitability:
- Long-term Renters Welcome
- Low Allergen Environment
- Minimum Age Limit for Renters
- children welcome
- non smoking only
- pets considered
About The Owner
Owners since 2007, we have enjoyed our second home and are happy to be able to share it with many friends.
The Owner purchased this house in 2007
Why The Owner chose Harbour Town
After looking at many properties in Sea Pines we decided 'the place to be' was Stoney Creek. A short walk to Harbour Town, a mile from the beach and close to all the local sporting venues makes it a winner. The serene setting is perfect for unwinding and relaxing in the South Carolina afternoons.
We try and get there as much as possible and are always sorry to have to return to work in the north.
Our home is family friendly and we hope your family can enjoy it as much as we have!
What makes this house unique
location .....location....location...that's what makes 30 Stoney Creek a gem! Quiet street, but just a 5 minute walk to all the activity in Harbour Town.


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Well in case you guessed Tom Brady, you were WRONG! The winner for most requested replacement was 5-time Pro Bowler Vince Wilfork. The New England Patriots swapped out more than 2,500 Aaron Hernandez jerseys for free in Foxboro this weekend.
A rep for the Patriots says that the team happily spent roughly $250,000 to make sure any fan who had a Aaron Hernandez jersey could get a free replacement featuring a Patriots player who's not currently facing murder charges. Out of the 2,500 people that arrived at the stadium for the swap, 30% were children requesting new youth jerseys.
Vince Wilfork, the 325 pound defensive tackle was the #1 most requested replacement jersey, with Tom Brady coming in 2nd place. Tim Tebow was NOT even in the top 5.
Would you have swapped your Hernandez jersey? If so, to which player?


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Tubal Reversal FAQs
Frequently Asked Questions about Tubal Reversal
Chloe Slattery, RN, MSN
CHSC Nursing Supervisor
Question: How can I find out if my tubal ligation can be reversed?
Answer: Obtain a copy of your operative and pathology reports relating to your tubal ligation. Fax them to Chapel Hill Tubal Reversal Center's main fax number 919-869-1976 and attach the Fax Cover Sheet so we can reach you when your records arrive. Dr. Berger will review your information, and we will contact you to discuss your outlook for a successful outcome after tubal reversal based on your medical records.
Question: What if I can't get a copy of my operative report?
Answer: If you cannot get a copy of your tubal ligation operative report, Dr. Berger can begin your surgery with diagnostic laparoscopy to examine your fallopian tubes and determine if tubal reversal is likely to be successful. If so, he will repair your tubes right then. If your tubal ligation has severely damaged your tubes and Dr. Berger does not repair them, you will be given a partial refund. The "laparoscopy package" is excellent insurance in situations when the type of tubal ligation is unknown. The screening laparoscopy option is limited to patients with a body mass index (BMI) of less than 30.
Question: I live out of state. How can I arrange to do everything in one visit?
Answer: Most of our patients come to Chapel Hill from other states. To minimize the time you have to spend here, your preoperative consultation will be scheduled for the day preceding your tubal reversal. On the day of your tubal reversal, you will spend the morning at Chapel Hill Surgical Center and the rest of the day back at your hotel room. The following morning, Dr. Berger or one of our nurses will visit you at your hotel for a postoperative check prior to your returning home.
Question: How long will I need to remain in Chapel Hill to have my tubal reversal?
Answer: You will be here for two nights - the day before your tubal reversal for your consultation and the day of your surgery.
Question: How do I schedule an appointment?
Answer: Let us know what date you would like to have your tubal reversal. E-mail Julia Smith RN, or telephone us at (919) 968-4656 between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. Eastern Time weekdays. On weekends and evenings from 5-8 p.m. Eastern Time you can telephone a tubal reversal nurse at (919) 656-9861 or Julia at (919) 656-8204.
Question: How can I find out about what to expect when I come for my tubal reversal procedure?
Answer: We have prepared a great deal of information on what to expect and what to bring when you come for surgery. It is helpful to read the tubal reversal surgery checklist and information on what to expect before, on the day of your surgery, and following your ligation reversal. Our mission is to provide patients with complete and detailed information so that their tubal reversal journey is a positive experience from start to finish.
Question: Will I need an appointment with my doctor once I arrive home?
Answer: If your local physician has referred you, he or she will probably want to see you after your tubal reversal. If you are self-referred, you do not need to arrange for routine follow-up with your local physician unless you wish to. Should you have any concerns or problems after returning home, Dr. Berger can be reached at all times via a toll free pager. If you do not have an ob-gyn physician, you should find one without delay since you may become pregnant at any time after your tubal reversal!
Question: Post Tubal Ligation Syndrome
Is there such a thing?
Answer: Many doctor's say "No", but we see many women who have experienced problems since undergoing a tubal ligation and they say otherwise..... Read More about Post Tubal Ligation Syndrome
We are here to help you.
We are here to help you with every step in your journey. We want to make your visit to Chapel Hill Tubal Reversal Center the best medical experience you have ever had. Please Contact Us if you have any questions.Getting Started on the Tubal Reversal Journey
Latest Additions | FAQs | Press | Mission | Privacy Policy | Doctors Directory | Site Map
http://www.tubal-reversal.net/tubal_reversal_faq.htm was last modified on July 9th, 2013 21:03:54


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FOX Consumer reporter Steve Noviello has tried and tested hundreds of products before determining his top picks for this year's holiday gift guide. But the best gift is not the best, if you can't afford it. So here's some of his top picks under $20.
For more information, click here!
1551 Briarcliff Rd., NEAtlanta, GA 30306Main Number: (404) 875-5555News Tips: (404) 898-0100


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A back-and-forth battle between the Falmouth Academy and Mashpee High School girls' lacrosse teams resulted in a 13-13 draw on Monday afternoon at FA.
The Lady Mariners built an early lead but couldn't hold on. FA took the lead back with 4:32 left on a goal by Lilly Patterson. Once again, though, the Lady Falcons came back and drew even with 2:58 left when Christina Ball netted her fifth goal of the game on a shot from in close to make it 13-all.
Mashpee, which suffered a 20-11 loss in its opener last Friday, is 0-1-1 overall. The Lady Mariners are 1-1-1, having lost to Providence Country Day, 10-9, last Friday.
Early in Monday's game it looked like the Lady Mariners would have their way. Behind the scoring of Eliza Van Voorhis (3 goals), Jane Earley (2 goals) and Patterson (2 goals), the Lady M's jumped out to a 9-5 lead midway through the first half. Mashpee roared back, pulling to within 9-7 at the break on goals by Ball (5 goals) and Jackie Lynch (3 goals).
In the second half Mashpee continued to roll, coming back to tie the score at 9-9 early in the frame when Ball and Lynch each connected again.
From that point the game was a back-and-forth affair. Mashpee went up 12-11 with about 15 minutes left thanks to a goal by Erica Caldwell (5 goals), who spun around the net and beat keeper Kenzie Rogers to the far post. Falmouth Academy answered, scoring three minutes later on a strike by Van Voorhis, then taking the lead when Patterson scored with 4:32 left.
Related Content
Mashpee head coach Pat Ball called timeout after the Patterson goal to settle his troops down. That move worked as his daughter came through with the equalizer. Mashpee then had three quality chances late, but one went wide and Rogers stopped the other two.
Both teams return to action today. Mashpee will travel to play at Hull, while the Lady Mariners are home against Sturgis West. The squads hook up again, this time in Mashpee, on May 6 for a rematch.


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These are the pictures of Linda and "Vanity" when they were on the list to be euthanized. Thankfully, we were able to save both of these girls. Below are pics of each since and videos! "Vanity" has been renamed Cody. She doesn't like other kitties so her video is of her being pet in a cage, but that will all change this weekend when she goes to a foster home with no other kitties and she'll have the run of the place!
How they look now:
This stunning green-eyed calico sweetie is about the best little girl I have ever met. What an angel!! This stunning little calico loves to be pet, head butts your hand, adores being touched by everyone. How is it that someone this fantastic became homeless? Her previous guardian hit hard times. He/She lost their own home and we don't know why or how that happened, but we do know sweet little Linda should not have to pay for it, though it is the animals that usually do. Linda was going to be euthanized despite her sweet and easy nature; her time was up at the pound because she had contracted a cold. If we hadn't been able to rescue her, she would not have lived another day. We feel lucky we were able to save this girl, but our work is not done. It is now time for someone to step up who recognizes a jewel when they see it.
Cody was also slated to be euthanized and would have been had we not stepped in. She does not like other kitties and of course in the shelter there are tons of them so she was mistakenly thought to be mean cat because when other kitties are around she growls. But when she is in a room with no other kitties she is a little sweetheart! She is absolutely in love with being pet and a total noodle. Cody needs to be the only kitty in your home. She loves attention and loves humans! You can see in the pics I am holding her and in the video she loves petting. This is a total sweetie too, just like Linda. You can even hear her purr away in this video: http://youtu.be/zxsg_05z6iI
These two cats are so affectionate!!
These angels can be found on our website http://www.brooklynanimalaction.org/adopt
Update! Both kitties have been adopted!! Yeah!! Here are pics of Cody in her new home:
and here is Linda, renamed Fiona's in her new home!


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Curiosity factor: Lytro review at dpreview (and more!) [updated]
What does one of the top two camera review websites think of the new Lytro light-field photography camera? Find out in their brand new review of the camera! As usual, we won't leak the light field here, but if you are in a hurry or running out of battery, you can jump to les conclusiones.
UPDATE #1: Thomas Hawk has published a 24 hours with the Lytro field test on his blog.
UPDATE #2: CNet Reviews also posted their take on the new Lytro creature.
UPDATE #3: Apparently today was set up as Lytro review embargo day because there are even more reviews and/or hands-on blog-posts published, including Robert Scoble and The Verve and All Things WSJ (via Techmeme)
UPDATE #4: More hands-on action, this time at the website of the Popular Photography magazine.


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Jarrett M. Cote
Sep 18, 2014
Christopher Stevens
Sep 4, 2014
Scott and Genevieve Kelley
Aug 28, 2014
Dominick Stanin
Aug 21, 2014
Home » News » Crime
Deal allows Vt. truck driver to avoid prison for fatal Lebanon crash
Brewster Thurston, 53, will have to find a new line of work, his attorney said Wednesday, and must pay nearly $30,000 restitution to the estate of Richard Rouleau as part of a plea agreement in Grafton County Superior Court.
Thurston had been scheduled to go to trial this month on a charge of negligent homicide, and a conviction on that Class B felony could have meant 3½ to 7 years in prison.
But Judge Peter H. Bornstein instead approved a plea agreement Tuesday between Assistant Grafton County Attorney Paul Fitzgerald, the prosecutor, and Thurston's attorney, Charlie Buttrey of Lebanon. Thurston pleaded guilty to vehicular assault, a Class A misdemeanor, for causing Rouleau's death by failing to properly maintain his 1996 Western Star logging truck and its trailer.
Bornstein sentenced him to 12 months in the Grafton County House of Corrections in North Haverhill, all suspended for four years during which Thurston must maintain good behavior. The judge ordered that his Class A commercial driver's license be revoked for seven years, but he can petition after three years to have it restored.
The restitution includes more than $14,000 for Rouleau's funeral expenses. Buttrey said Wednesday Rouleau's widow, Sandy Lea, gave her approval to the plea deal.
Authorities at the scene of the Feb. 17, 2011 crash said Rouleau - a 59-year-old Manchester native - was driving on Route 4 that morning near the bridge over the Mascoma River on his way to a job when he encountered the runaway trailer coming in the opposite direction and straight at his van. The self-employed tradesman had no time to react, according to police, before the impact knocked his van over, killing him instantly.
Thurston had just dropped off a load of logs that day and was on his way to reload, police said. He has not been available for public comment since the crash.
"He's haunted by this," Buttrey said Wednesday, regarding his client. "A day does not go by that he does not think about it."
Regarding the loss of the Class A license that allowed him to operate a logging truck, Buttrey said, "He's going to have to find a new line of work. This doesn't affect his Class B license; he can still drive a dump truck or a plow truck."
On the morning of the crash - which Lea described in an interview last year as "the worst, worst, day of my life," - she was also headed to work over much the same route her husband had taken, and passed the crash scene on her way. But she didn't see her husband's van, and didn't realize he might have been involved until she couldn't reach him by phone a bit later that morning. She then drove back to the crash site where police gave her the news. Records on file at the court show that during its investigation of the case, the Grafton County Attorney's Office found a history of safety-inspection violations involving Thurston's truck.
Assistant Grafton County Attorney Mary Bleier last year filed a report saying the same trailer had come loose from his truck in another incident that had occurred just several days prior to the crash that killed Rouleau.
Neither Bleier nor Fitzgerald returned messages left for them on Wednesday.
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Keene man held on bail after alleged assault of 2-year-oldREADER COMMENTS: 0
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Report on Manchester schools cites falling test scores, higher dropout rates among ongoing challengesREADER COMMENTS: 2
Report on Manchester schools cites falling test scores, higher dropout rates among ongoing challenges
Nashua urges a focus on mid-skill jobs
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Job fair is Wednesday in Concord
Food stamp loophole not a go in NH
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Report on Manchester schools cites falling test scores, higher dropout rates among ongoing challenges
Shaheen unveils Republican supporters
- Mass. Supreme Judicial Court has found upskirt photos taken on a subway aren't illegal. Should such voyeurism be a crime?
- Yes
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- No
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- Total Votes: 917


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Pictures: Florida 31, Tennessee 17
Check out pictures from the 2013 NCAA football game between the Florida Gators and the Tennessee Volunteers at Ben Hill Griffin Stadium in Gainesville, Florida.
Image 1 of 54
Florida vs. Tennessee( Joshua C. Cruey / Orlando Sentinel / September 21, 2013 )
Florida quarterback Tyler Murphy (3) gets off a pass as he is pressure by Tennessee's Dontavis Sapp (41) during first quarter action of an NCAA college football game against Tennessee in Gainesville, Fla. on Saturday, September 21, 2013. (Joshua C. Cruey\Orlando Sentinel)


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Antlers at Vail unit 420 is a 4 Bedroom/4 Bath condominium over in the "newer" section. It is all on one level and is 2200 square feet. It has a Full kitchen, two private balconies, gas grill, 2 gas fireplaces, washer/dryer, TV/DVD/Stereo, hair dryers, humidifiers, iron and ironing board, free DSL internet and daily housekeeping. Views are to the East. The balconies are quite large. This is a popular unit for large families and has even been used for small meetings, bridal showers, etc. It is non-smoking.
To enter the photo gallery for Antlers residence 420 click a thumbnail below.
Important Notice…If you are using these pictures to make a reservation decision, please note:
We do not guarantee specific room assignments. There are a myriad of surprises that can force us to change room assignments. If you ask for this certain condo and we confirm that request, the odds are very good (95%), but NOT 100%. We DO guarantee that you'll be in a comparable or better room of equal or larger sizes. As much as we want your business, if your entire decision to book a reservation is based on these pictures and being absolutely assured this specific condominium, we regretfully can't do it. But if you're comfortable with a 95% chance that this will be your condominium, and trust us to "make things right" if it isn't… then book with us…you'll be glad you did.


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SPOKANE-- Police say the girlfriend of a prominent Hell's Angel member may have helped try to hide a murder.
Taylor Wolf, Breanna and Justice Simms are all behind bars as suspects in the murder of Nicholas Thoreson.
Now police say Britney Bjork may have helped the suspects try to cover-up the murder.
Police have cell phone records and recorded jail conversations linking Bjork to the main suspect Taylor Wolf.
Wolf was living at Bjork and Ricky Jenks apartment while Jenks was in jail on an unrelated case.
Police say Taylor Wolf, Justice and Breanna Simms killed Nicholas Thoreson then tried to burn his body and have now named more people involved.
Court records say Britney Bjork may have helped the three suspects light the car on fire then flee the scene of Biglow Gulch and Forker Road.
After police arrested Wolf they recorded phone conversations he had with Bjork from jail.
He said "I was gonna shoot him, I couldn't do it so me and Justice did it together."
Bjork then told Taylor to be quiet.
Police warrants revealed nearly 60 calls were made between Taylor and Bjork's phones


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Newark, N.J. • Super Bowls always inspire opportunities for creative gambling, and it is possible this year to bet whether Brock Osweiler will become the Denver Broncos' starting quarterback next season.
The proposition is not worded quite that way, dealing strictly with the potential for Peyton Manning's retiring — which is viewed as unlikely, according to the odds. Yet the circumstances make Osweiler an intriguing figure, considering he's currently next in line, whenever that day may come.
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And he believes he's well prepared to play in the NFL, thanks to Dennis Erickson, his coach at Arizona State and now a member of the Utah staff.
"Not only was it a lot of fun, but I learned so much about playing the position," Osweiler said.
As the Sun Devils' head coach, Erickson was heavily involved with the offense, particularly the quarterbacks. "He kind of laid out what he wanted from his quarterbacks, and as long as as you did that or exceeded that, it was a lot of fun."
And less so, when the standards were not met. "He really helped me grow at a very rapid pace and be prepared for those demands of major college football," Osweiler said.
Osweiler completed 25 of 41 passes for 325 yards and three touchdowns in a 35-14 win at Utah in 2011, his junior season. He entered the NFL Draft after that year, when Erickson was fired, and the Broncos took him in the second round as the fifth quarterback taken — ahead of Seattle starter Russell Wilson.
Ute connection, part II
Denver defensive lineman Mitch Unrein played at Wyoming, where Dave Christensen replaced Joe Glenn as head coach in 2009, in advance of Unrein's senior season.
Christensen was named Utah's offensive coordinator in December, when Erickson was demoted to running backs coach. Compared with Glenn, Christensen was "more strict, that's for sure," Unrein said. "He was the coach that really prepared me for the NFL."
Unrein said he particularly benefited from defensive line coach Jerry Montgomery, who's now at Oklahoma.
Pot Roast goes extra mile
Denver's Terrance Knighton is nicknamed "Pot Roast," nicely capturing the 335-pound nose tackle.
Knighton said he has studied the NFL's top players at his position, including Baltimore's Haloti Ngata, a Highland High School product who earned a Super Bowl ring last year. Nose tackles are sometimes viewed "as just being cloggers," Knighton said, but Ngata and other stars "have such quick feet for their size, and quick hands. … So I just take a little bit from everybody."
Unlike Ngata, Knighton is a big talker on the field. The research of his opponent, Seattle center Max Unger, goes beyond film study. "I'll start Googling him and doing all types of stuff to guide out his personal life," Knighton said. "I want to know everything about him … from his favorite food to his favorite color."
Copyright 2014 The Salt Lake Tribune. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.


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Within 2.7 miles of the Garden Walk shopping center, picnic area provided with patio and gas BBQ grills, thick apartment walls for optimal privacy!
Located in Anaheim, Seville is conveniently close to schools, shopping, dining, and MORE. With easy access to the 91 and 5 freeways, you are within easy reach of Disneyland, Angels Stadium of Anaheim, and Honda Center. Get your retail fix at the Anaheim Garden Walk or the Downtown Disney District and view live concerts at the outdoor venue, The Grove. Our one, two and three bedroom apartments offer casual living with a blend of comfort and sophistication. Make this your home today and experience living the Seville way. Features include: Air conditioning, dishwasher, garbage disposal, wall-to-wall carpeting, ceiling fans, private patio/balcony, high speed internet access available, covered parking, pet-friendly, cats allowed small dogs allowed, swimming pool, easy access to freeways, laundry facilities, faster response with instant applicant screening, easy access to public transportation.
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The 47th National Farm Machinery Show will take place this week in Louisville, Ken., at the Kentucky Exposition Center. In conjunction with the event, the 44th Championship Tractor Pull (CTP) will also occur nightly after the show closes.
Show Hours: 9:00 a.m.-6:00 p.m. daily (Eastern Standard Time)
Location: Kentucky Exposition Center, 937 Phillips Lane, Louisville, KY 40209
Admission: NFMS admission is free; parking is $8.00
CTP ticket prices range from $35-$45
All CTP seats are reserved. Tickets are subject to availability. All prices include a facility fee.
Tickets are sold at the Freedom Hall Ticket Office and all Ticketmaster outlets. Charge by phone at (800) 745-3000. Tickets can also be purchased on the Web at ticketmaster.com .
Visitor Info: Call the Greater Louisville Convention & Visitors Bureau at (502) 584-2121 or 1 (800) 626-5646.
More Info: Call the National Farm Machinery Show Hotline at (502) 367-5004, visit us on the Internet at: twitter.com/nfmslouisville and facebook.com/nationalfarmmachineryshow.
Wed., Feb. 15, 1 p.m.
Sponsored by Michelin
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