A morning jog was my thing until my knees began to throb.
Then, I rode a bicycle; I was aware of my surroundings. Pedestrians, dogs, pedestrians walking dogs, or pedestrians walking along wearing air buds, completely oblivious. Other aggressive bike riders who rode too fast and cars, always the expensive cars being driven by people who don't know how to operate them. All those precautionary measures took the fun out of cycling, so I just stayed home and bought an elliptical machine. That was an excellent investment. I stuck to my diet, exercised daily, and shed some healthy pounds. A month into this routine, I noticed an unusual stain on my wall. It's the spot that I stared at while using the exercise machine. I mean, you know how you look at something, and you're not really looking at it even though it's right in front of you? This was it. I applied some cleaner to the stain and used a scrub brush under the sink to vigorously brush it away. It came out with no problem; although the stain began to flake once the cleaner was applied, at least it was gone. The next day, the stain was back, spread out broader and more extensive than yesterday. I removed the paneling to ensure that it wasn't some kind of toxic mold, but there wasn't anything there. Putting the panel back, I scrubbed off the stain the same way I did the day before, and it went away, no problem.The next morning at three, to be precise, I sat at the computer watching the market. Things were good, no volatility and ready to buy up. Once the market closed, I headed upstairs for a nap, but something caught my eye. I flipped the switch, which lit up the living room, and there it was, the stain. It looked like three shadowy human figures with no discernable human features. It was almost as if it was still deciding what specific shape it would take once it made up its mind. I immediately removed the panels from that whole side of the living room and set them out for bulk pick up. The strange stains appeared again on the concrete, but this time, they were much more detailed. They were Hawaiian warriors carrying torches. They were night marchers; my house must have been built on their procession. The short story is that I managed to refinance and what I did was move my entire house and the garage off to the left. In place of where my home used to be, I built an atrium and filled it with life-giving plants and ferns, which grew off to either side but left a path down the middle from the front to back entrances. In my mind, I thought the night marchers might appreciate the symbolism of what the atrium represented. No trouble ever since then, our royal ancestors get to process during their moon phases without a problem, and I get to continue keeping my health in check.
17A Productions Presents
LOPAKA KAPANUI - CHICKEN SKIN GHOST STORIES
A LIVE and IN-PERSON storytelling concert at the historic Hawaii Theatre. This master storyteller is one of Hawaii’s most popular teller of tales and has been in the business of scaring people for more than 20 years. Lopaka is terrifically skilled at provoking that sudden chill going down one’s back or causing the small hairs on your arms to stand up. Chicken skin is what we call it in Hawai‘i. Others might refer to it as chills or goosebumps. Sharing real accounts of Hawaii’s supernatural culture, Lopaka often leaves audience members questioning the darkness on their drive home and anxiously leaving the light on at bedtime.
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