Hell Yeah 😂

the Locker Room: Liam Dunbar

Requested

Warnings: well, Liam and the reader don’t really like each other at first so some harsh words are exchanged. But then they make out in the girls’ locker room which is kinda awkward because I didn’t really know how to write it so yeah

 Being the one of the only girls on the lacrosse team had its perks. For example, boys. Practices were like heaven, watching their muscles flex as they ran and flexed and just exercised in general. Of course, after practice, they stunk to high heaven and I didn’t want them to come anywhere near me, but that was beside the point.

           The second perk was Kira. I met her on the day of tryouts, and she quickly became my best friend. Her love for Marvel and my love for action had us constantly throwing movie marathons which turned into sleepovers when we saw how late at night it was.

           All the attention was definitely the third perk. I mean, Kira and I were the talk of the school. The team was completely male dominated, but our small estrogen edition seemed to draw a crowd of feminists and guys who just wanted to look at a chick playing rough. Coach was happy about that; there was a bigger turn-out at the games, and the school newspaper frequently printed segments advertising us.

           It was great. Really, I loved it. But… all of the good things could be sucked away as soon as Liam Dunbar and I made eye contact.

           In my opinion, he was beyond stupid. Dunbar was always very competitive with me- I guessed that it was because we were the only freshmen on the team because he seemed alright with Kira, so it couldn’t be that I was a girl. He threw temper tantrums a lot, which always resulted in Scott, Kira’s boyfriend, and Stiles, Kira’s… weird… friend, rushing him off into the locker room. Coach used to yell at them when they did that, but eventually he got tired and just rolled his eyes.

           That made me angry. Why the hell was Dunbar so special? Why was he allowed to be escorted off the field by his junior fairy-godmothers? It just wasn’t fair.

           The Friday that I finally lost it was the one that followed our first loss of the season. Last night, in the middle of the game, Dunbar decided that he wasn’t going to pass me the freaking ball liked we had practiced. That pissed me off. He ended up scoring, but I was too mad to care. When I got the ball, I acted like I didn’t see him waiting for me to pass it to him. I scored. The crowd cheered. I basked in the glory until a rough shove to my shoulder jerked me out of the happy haze.

           It was Dunbar, and he wasn’t happy. Through his mask, he spit, “What the hell? Why didn’t you pass to me?”

           I laughed. “Just returning the favor, thickhead. You didn’t pass to me either. And I scored anyway, so I don’t know why you’re getting your tighty-whiteys in a wad.”

           “You’re kidding me, right?” He stepped closer; our masks were pressed together as he shouted. “You’re acting like a child. We’re in the middle of the game.”

           Scoffing, I shoved his chest. “You’re the one who’s acting like a child, Dunbar. Now get out of my face before I make you.”

           He let out a sharp snort of derision. “I’d just love to see you try.”

           Hands were pulling us apart suddenly. Kira had her arms around my shoulders while Scott and Stiles held onto Dunbar’s arms. Coach and the referee were sprinting over to us. Faintly, I could hear Scott muttering, “Hey, Liam, you got this. Stay in control. Breathe.”

           Stiles was chanting as well, although I wouldn’t exactly define his words as ones of encouragement. “You freaking idiot, chill out! You’re going to shift in front of all these people! Because of a girl? You’re kidding me, right? We have a game to play.”

           Kira spun me around. “Y/N, what- are you okay?” Her dark eyes looked me over anxiously.

           “Oh, I’m fine.” Then I raised my voice, knowing he could hear. “Dunbar is just pitching a bitch fit like he’s five and making everything about him again. Nothing new.”

           “What?” Dunbar snarled- I mean, he actually snarled. “You’re the one who’s not following the plays. You won’t pass to me because of your silly little grudge.”

           I was screaming. “You didn’t pass to me first! So how dare you get mad when I do the same?”

           “Are you-” He lurched against Stiles and Scott’s tight hold. “I didn’t see you!”

           “That’s bull and you know it, Dunbar!” I shrieked. “You looked me dead in the eyes and then kept running. You just wanted to compensate with a big win for something smaller, am I right?”

           To make a long story short, by the time Coach got over to us, we were both cussing, so he benched us. “I can’t believe you two.” He angrily shoved his clipboard under his arm. “Okay, yeah, Dunbar, kind of expected it because of your record- no hard feelings- but Y/N? Really? You’re going to try and fight him?”

           I raised an eyebrow. “Are you insinuating that I couldn’t take him out? Because I could, if you’d like a demonstration.”

           Dunbar laughed coldly. “I would love to see that happen.”

           Whirling on him, I pushed his shoulder. “Do you want to go Dunbar?”

           Coach stuck his arm in between our faces, which were so close that our noses were almost touching. “That is enough!” He roared. “Tomorrow night’s practice, you both are staying after. You’re going to help me clean the gear. And… and… you both better be here Saturday morning. I think a little PT is in order. It’ll be a bonding experience. Might make you like each other.” At the dirty looks Dunbar and I exchanged, Coach back-tracked. “Or maybe it’ll just make you hate each other all the more. Well, my advice to you is- bottle it up and use it on the field. But not against each other for crying out loud!”

           Then we lost the game because Scott and Stiles were benched for some illegal hits- I had a sneaking suspicion that they did it on purpose- and towed Dunbar off to the locker rooms, leaving our team without its captain and some of its best players.

           So yeah, that was mainly the reason why my Friday sucked. I knew I was going to have to stay after. Kira was more understanding than my parents. They chewed me out. She only promised that we could reschedule the Iron Man marathon.

           “Seriously, it’s no big deal.” Kira assured me as I thanked her, slipping my Nikes on. “I just wish you and Liam could get along.”

           I hit my head on the bench when I jerked upwards so fast, quickly brushing off her concerned hands. “Me and Dunbar? Get along? I happen to be a big fan of our relationship. I hate him and he hates me. It’s perfect.”

           Kira pursed her lips as she shimmed into her shorts. “That’s nice, but… do you really hate him?”

           “Well…” I thought it over. Kira was my best friend; I told her everything. I figured this was no different. It wasn’t like she was going to go squealing to anyone. “I mean, yeah, he pisses me off a lot, but… sometimes he’s funny. And he’s definitely not ugly. But you didn’t hear that from me, got it?”

           Hesitantly, Kira nodded. “Okay, but… I mean, no offense, but I think it would make the team more of a team if you tried to focus on those things instead of how angry he makes you and maybe attempted to get along. Plus, it would be nice not having to stop him from ripping your throat out.”

           “Hey!” I settled my hands on my hips. “I am more than capable of ripping Dunbar’s throat out if the time comes.”

           “Please,” I jumped, spinning around to see Coach standing in the doorway with his eyes covered. “Just stop, Y/L/N. I don’t want to give up my Sunday for you, too. Just put some clothes on and get out on the field.”

           I pretended to think about it. “I don’t know, Coach, I kinda like this look.” I gestured to my shorts and sports-bra. “It makes me feel much freer.”

           “That only makes me worry. Thank you for making my gray hairs grow faster.” He said sarcastically, shifting his weight while still keeping his eyes covered. “Now get on the field!” Coach left then, shaking his head and muttering something about ‘teenage girls are weird.’

           Kira giggled. When I looked at her and asked, “What?” she only shook her head and tossed me my shirt. I slipped it over my head, and we jogged out.

           Everyone was waiting for us, it seemed. Scott came over with a smile on his face, Stiles and Liam trailing him like always. “Hey guys.” He greeted, nodding to me and pecking Kira’s cheek.

           “Hello.” Stiles said awkwardly, scratching his head under his helmet. I guessed he was playing goalie today.

           “Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence.” Liam muttered. I smirked and flipped my ponytail over my shoulder, retailing with, “You don’t have to thank me. Just know you’re welcome.” Liam was about to get his revenge when Coach blew sharply on his whistle and told us to take a few laps.

           Kira, Stiles, and I all jogged at the same pace while Liam and Scott ran up ahead. “So, Kira, did it work?” Stiles panted.

           “Did what work?” I asked.

           “Oh,” Stiles faltered. “Maybe it was a bad idea to ask with you right there.”

           “Maybe you should tell me what the hell you’re talking about, Stilinski.”

           “Alright!  Hey, no need to bust out the last names. We’re cool; we’re good here.”

           Kira rolled her eyes. “He’s talking about the talk we had in the locker room. About Liam. And maybe you and him working out your differences.”

           My mouth dropped open. “You put her up to that?” I almost screamed. I knew people were looking, but I didn’t care.

           Stiles gestured for me to quiet down. “No need to raise your voice, little one! We had the same talk with Liam in the guys’ locker room.”

           Bitterly, I asked, “Well? What? Same results?”

           Raising his eyebrows, he looked over at Kira. “Depends on what you said, Y/N.”

           Gasping, I smacked Kira’s arm. “Don’t you even think about selling me out!” I warned. She gave me a cool look before suggesting, “Well, then, maybe you should tell Stiles what you said. It’s you or me.”

           “I don’t want to tell Stiles!” I whined. “He’s just going to blab to Scott who will blab to Dunbar.”

           “Nonsense!” Stiles protested. “I am a trustworthy guy. I won’t tell Scott; I’ll tell Lydia. Who will probably tell Liam directly.”

           It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Whatever. I’m done with this conversation. Kira, if you know what’s good for you, you won’t tell him crap.” Then I took off at full speed, shooting past and weaving through groups of guys. Being the smallest person on the team had its advantage- I was the fastest. Another thing that pissed Dunbar off about me.

           Because I could, as I sprinted past Scott and Dunbar, I shouted, “On your left!”

           “Go to hell!”  Dunbar yelled. I just laughed, “See you there, babe!”

           This went on for the next three laps: I would pass Dunbar, say something to him that would piss him off, and then zip on right ahead of him. On the fifth and final lap, when I came up behind him, I made a very dumb, split-second decision. I smacked Dunbar right on the ass before sprinting as fast and hard as I could.

           “That’s it.” I heard him growl.  Scott warned, “No, Liam, don’t-” But I guessed he didn’t listen. I didn’t bother looking back; I was almost at the stopping point. My lungs and legs burned, and the back of neck was sticky with sweat.

           Something hit my back, and then I was rolling. People started yelling, but I couldn’t really make out what they were saying over the blood rushing through my ears.

           Dunbar glared down at me, and I fixed him with a fiery stare. “What the hell is your problem?” I screeched in his face, trying to worm my way out from underneath his body. His hands tightened around my wrists, pinning them to the ground beside me.

           “You’re my problem!” He barked. Breathing heavily, I brought my legs up to the point my feet touched my butt. Using my hips, I thrust upwards and to the side, dumping him off of me. The move obviously took him by surprise.

           I was just about to start wailing on him when someone picked me up around the waist and hauled me over his shoulder. I recognized those damn shoes. “Stiles!” I pounded on his back. “Put me down!”

           Stiles shook me slightly. “Um, no? Why would I do that? You guys are trying to kill each other! Again!”

           “Stiles!” I thrashed against him, but nothing seemed to faze him. Suddenly tired, I let my arms hang limply, stretching towards the ground. Through Stiles’s legs, I could see Scott chewing Liam out. Kira came to his side, speaking quietly in Scott’s ear. I had a hard time hearing what they were saying because everyone was running over and yelling.

           Coach somehow overpowered them all. “Separate them! Stilinski, take Y/L/N over there! This has got to stop! McCall, you’re- taking Dunbar to the showers again. Fine. Whatever. Everyone, settle down! Take another lap to get all of that excitement out of your system.”

           Grunting, Stiles set me down. I watched Scott disappear into the school with Dunbar and Kira. I looked at Stiles, and then back at the doors. Stiles seemed to catch on. “No no no no no. Y/N, don’t you dare-”

           It was too late. I sprinted for the doors, ignoring Coach’s yells and Stiles’s promised shouts, “I’ll get her Coach! I’ve got her! You just go back to… coaching…”

           I knew that Stiles was sprinting after me- and that skinny bastard could move when he wanted to- so I pushed myself, throwing the door open and running as fast as I could for the boys’ locker room. As I pounded through the entry way, I could see shadows in the corner, and water running. Was the shower on?

           I skidded to a stop, peeking my head around the corner.

           Dunbar was puffing under a constant stream of water, back against the wall, eyes closed. Scott was squatting beside him; Kira was standing on his other side. “This has got to stop, dude.” Scott clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re putting her in danger.”

           “Don’t you think I know that?” His eyes flashed open, a furious golden tint to them. “But she’s just so… and I can’t… and it pisses me off!” Dunbar slammed his fist into the tile, completely shattering it. Bits and pieces shot up, scattering all around him. “It’s like I can’t control myself around her! I get so angry because I can’t…” His voice caught in his throat. He shook his head. “And then I do something stupid…”

           Kira stroked his hair, pushing it off his forehead. “We know, Liam. Calm down. We’re going to figure something out.”

           “You guys keep saying that.” He closed his eyes again. In that moment, I found him… very nice looking. His gray shirt was soaked, clinging to his toned chest. Droplets slid down his neck; his hair looked darker, messy. His full lips were pink and inviting.

           “Because it’s true!” Kira insisted.

           Scott sighed. “Did you talk to her?” His mocha eyes were wide and earnest.

           Tentatively, Kira nodded. “Yes… but she didn’t want me to tell you.” When Scott gave her a look, she threw her hands up. “Hey, she is my best friend!”  

           I didn’t realize that Stiles had caught up until he announced, “Yeah, your best friend that part-times as a peeping tom!”

           —

So I got caught. Dunbar was pissed, Kira was pissed, Scott was pissed, Stiles was pissed, Coach was pissed… everyone was ticked off.

           “I don’t know what the hell you were thinking,” Coach was beet red as he ranted in my face, “but that was the stupidest thing I had ever seen. And I’ve seen a lot, thanks to Greenberg.”

           Yawning, I watched the other players pick up their stuff and head to the locker rooms. “Coach, I’m pretty much immune to scolding. I’ve been bitched out three times today now. You might as well save your breath because I’m just tuning you out.”

           Coach sputtered.

           “Not trying to be disrespectful.” I tacked on at the end, hoping it wasn’t too late.

           “Well that was a nice save.” Coach waved his clipboard behind him. “Go ahead and meet Dunbar in the weight room. I left the equipment and cleaning supplies in there. I’ll be in my office. And if you two decide to fight, I won’t break it up. I’ll let you kill each other. I’m getting too old for this.” With that, Coach stalked back into the building.  

           —

The weight room was exactly what it sounded like- it was a square building with one room that was filled with weights. There wasn’t any air-conditioning, and it always smelled like butt.

           Dunbar was already seated on the side of a treadmill, furiously wiping the inside of a helmet. “Nice of you to show up.” He snickered.

           “Yeah, well, I was getting my ass chewed. Does that make you feel any better?”

           “Loads.” He threw the can of Clorox wipes at me. “I’ve already started on the helmets. You wanna do the pads?”

           “If you lace up the sticks.” I consented. With an eye roll, he nodded. We worked in silence for the longest time, cleaning and fixing the gear. It was a bit of a surprise to me. Why weren’t we bickering? How come he was so quiet? What was he thinking about?

           Coach poked his head in. “It’s too quiet.” Dunbar and I just looked at each other. “I don’t believe this. It’s too weird. A little bit of yelling never hurt anybody.”

           Once he had left, Dunbar turned to me. “How much did you hear earlier?” He looked at me with his intense blue eyes. “Back in the locker room, I mean.”

           I mulled over my options. I could either lie or tell the truth. I figured that the truth would piss him off the most, so that’s what I told him. “You were talking about how angry I make you. Scott said that you were putting me in danger, and then you said that you couldn’t do something, and that it made you lose control. It made you really angry.”

           Dunbar ran his hand over his face. “Why did you even come in there, Y/N?” He sounded tired. Not upset in the slightest. Damn.

           I shrugged. “I don’t know. I was mad after you tackled me, and wanted to see why you always escape to the locker room with Scott.”

           He let out a puff of air, laying back across the treadmill. His shirt lifted a tad to reveal his stomach. “Okay, well, don’t do it again, alright?” I didn’t say anything. Dunbar laid there for a little while longer. Then he sat up abruptly. “You done with yours?”

           Nodding, I set the last elbow pad down. “Just finished.”

           He held open one of the bags and I began to stuff equipment inside. Once we had finished with that, we stowed everything away in the storage closet, and went to tell Coach that we were done.

           “Oh, you’re still alive.” He looked us over briefly before returning to whatever he was working on. “Go change out of your clothes; you both smell. Be here tomorrow at seven thirty. You’re going to be trying out some of these military workouts I found on YouTube the other day. I suggest eating a light breakfast.”

           Dreading tomorrow, Dunbar and I went our separate ways. The janitor was mopping up the girls’ locker room when I walked inside. “Hi.” I greeted softly. She just nodded and stepped out.

           I had just slipped into my clothes- thankfully- when the door swung open. In the threshold was a red-cheeked Dunbar, gripping his change of clothes with a sour expression.

           “Um, what do you think you’re doing?” I asked. “This is the girls’ locker room.”

           “The boys’ locker room is closed. Coach just left and the janitor locked up.”

           “Really?” I crossed my arms. “How did you get your clothes then?”

           “I left them sitting out. The janitor was putting them in the lost and found when I caught up to her.”

           “Okay. Why can’t you change in the bathroom?”

           “Because they’re all locked.”

           “Just drive home in your gym clothes. It won’t kill you, I promise.”

           “No. I’m changing now.” Dunbar threw his clothes on the bench and yanked off his shirt. I quickly averted my gaze, focusing on tying my shoes.

           Alright, I couldn’t help it. I kept sneaking peeks at him, watching his arms flex as he moved, back rippling, veins standing out along his arms and hands. It was confusing. He made me so angry, but at the same time…

           “What are you looking at?” I snapped out of it instantly, blinking. Dunbar had his shirt and jeans on now. “Do you like me or something?” He teased, shifting his weight on his sock-covered feet.

           I blanched. “Oh no, sweetheart. Don’t flatter yourself. Besides, I think you like me.” I smirked, feeling quite accomplished.

           “No, I’m pretty sure that you like me.” Dunbar sneered. “Maybe that’s why you like to push my buttons so much.”

           “You definitely like me.” I stood up, edging my way towards him. “Did you like having me under you earlier?”

           Dunbar stepped up to the plate; we were almost chest to chest. “Not as much as you did. ‘Cause you like me. I drive you crazy. Your heart beats faster whenever I’m around, and you don’t even realize it.”

           I put a finger on his chest to accentuate my point. “You like me, and it pisses you off because you think that you can’t have me.”

           He shook his head. “I don’t think; I know.” He looked at the ground between us. “It wouldn’t be safe for you.”

           “What, because you’ve got an I.E.D.? That’s stupid.” I cocked my head to the side as my voice took on a much softer quality. “Liam…”

           His blue eyes met mine. “You’ve never called me that before.” He whispered.

           I wrinkled my nose. “What?”

           “You’ve never called me ‘Liam’ before. I’m always ‘Dunbar’.”

           “Oh,” I watched him chew on his lip. “I never noticed that.”

           “Yeah, well, I always do.”

           We didn’t say anything for what felt like the longest time. My heart was pounding in my ears at our close proximity. I could feel every breath he took, almost. It was hot- sweltering, even. I could feel my cheeks blazing.

           “Y/N?” Liam murmured. “Be honest with me for a second. What would you do if I kissed you right now?”

           “I would kiss you back.” I answered, blatantly honest. I didn’t have it in me to put up any pretenses; I was too captivated in the way his lips moved, wondering how they would feel and taste. “I’m not rude.”

           “Okay.” He breathed, hand coming up to cup my cheek. “So, I’m going to kiss you now.”

           “Because you like me.” His tongue darted out to wet his nervous lips.

           “Only because you like me.”

           “That doesn’t make any sense.” I said, breathless. Our lips brushed each other as he spoke. “It sounded a lot better in my head.”

           That’s when I lost it. My patience, that is. My fingers knotted in his hair, pitching him forward. The second our lips met I sucked in a deep breath, molding my body to his, holding him as close to me as I could. Liam’s hands left my face to grip my hips and then slid down to my ass, squeezing, indulging in the soft supple skin. I bit down on his lower lip, earning a hiss.

           “Too soon?” He panted as his hands retreated to their position on my hips.

           “Bingo.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, planting another kiss on his rosy lips.

           “Sorry.” He chuckled. “Just had to get you back for slapping my ass earlier.”

           I giggled. “Then I better have the opportunity to pin you down sometime.”

           “I am so okay with that.” Liam grinned, giving me a softer, more sensual kiss. I cupped his jaw, stretching on my tip toes, allowing his arms to wind around me, tugging me closer.

           “What the hell?” We both jerked away to see a wide-eyed, open-mouthed, red-faced Coach Finstock.

           Blushing, I shoved Liam’s chest. He didn’t even budge. “I thought you said that he was gone!”

           “I was!” Coach held up his coffee mug. “I forgot this. Now I’m wishing I had just left it.”

           “Nothing was happening-” Liam started to protest, but Coach cut him off. “Nothing was- Dunbar, you were making out in the locker room!” He ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “Is this why you two were so quiet earlier? Were you plotting? Maybe going for it on the mats?”

           Laughing, I shook my head. “Oh my God, no, Coach. We literally just found out that we like each other like five minutes ago.”

           Liam grinned. “So you do like me! You just admitted it!”

           “Oh my God, Dunbar, you’re so dense. Obviously I like you, otherwise I wouldn’t have just let you get away with groping my ass.”

           “I think I like it better when you call me Liam.” He said as Coach covered his ears, “I don’t want to hear any more! Go home and do whatever you like, just… not in my locker room, for God’s sake!”

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It’s essay writing season for tons of students!

After being a college writing tutor for over a year, I thought I would share my advice with all you awesome people on tumblr. This is how I write essays, but if you’ve got more tips, feel free to add them below. 

Happy writing. You can do it!

http://iglovequotes.net/

Soon after I left Mr. Edison's employment a company was formed to develop my electric arc-light system. This system was adopted for street and factory lighting in 1886, but as yet I got no money — only a beautifully engraved stock certificate. Until April of the following year I had a hard financial struggle. Then a new company was formed, and provided me with a laboratory on Liberty Street, in New York City. Here I set to work to commercialize the inventions I had conceived in Europe.

After returning from Pittsburgh, where I spent a year assisting the Westinghouse Company in the design and manufacture of my motors, I resumed work in New York in a little laboratory on Grand Street, where I experienced one of the greatest moments of my life — the first demonstration of the wireless light.

I had been constructing with my assistants the first high-frequency alternators (dynamos), of the kind now used for generating power for wireless telegraphy. At three o'clock in the morning I came to the conclusion that I had overcome all the difficulties and that the machine would operate, and I sent my men to get something to eat. While they were gone I finished getting the machine ready, and arranged things so that there was nothing to be done, except to throw in a switch.

When my assistants returned I took a position in the middle of the laboratory, without any connection whatever between me and the machine to be tested. In each hand I held a long glass tube from which the air had been· exhausted. “If my theory is correct,” I said, “when the switch is thrown in these tubes will become swords of fire.” I ordered the room darkened and the switch thrown in — and instantly the glass tubes became brilliant swords of fire.

Under the influence of great exultation I waved them in circles round and round my head. My men were actually scared, so new and wonderful was the spectacle. They had not known of my wireless light theory, and for a moment they thought I was some kind of a magician or hypnotizer. But the wireless light was a reality, and with that experiment I achieved fame overnight.

Following this success, people of influence began to take an interest in me. I went into “society.” And I gave entertainments in return; some at home, some in my laboratory — expensive ones, too. For the one and only time in my life, I tried to roar a little bit like a lion.

But after two years of this, I said to myself, “What have I done in the past twentx-four months?” And the answer was, “Little or nothing.” I recognized that accomplishment requires isolation. I learned that the man who wants to achieve must give up many things — society, diversion, even rest — and must find his sole recreation and happiness in work. He will live largely with his conceptions and enterprises; they will be as real to him as worldly possessions and friends.

In recent years I have devoted myself to the problem of the wireless transmission of power. Power can be, and at no distant date will be, transmitted without wires, for all commercial uses, such as the lighting of homes and the driving of aeroplanes. I have discovered the essential principles, and it only remains to develop them commercially. When this is done, you will be able to go anywhere in the world — to the mountain top overlooking your farm, to the arctic, or to the desert — and set up a little equipment that will give you heat to cook with, and light to read by. This equipment will be carried in a satchel not as big as the ordinary suit case. In years to come wireless lights will be as common on the farms as ordinary electric lights are nowadays in our cities.

The matter of transmitting power by wireless is so well in hand that I can say I am ready now to transmit 100,000 horsepower by wireless without a loss of more than five percent in transmission. The plant required to transmit this amount will be much smaller than some of the wireless telegraph plants now existing, and will cost only $10,000,000, including water development and electrical apparatus. The effect will be the same whether the distance is one mile or ten thousand miles, and the power can be collected high in the air, underground, or on the ground.

-Nikola Tesla

“Making Your Imagination Work for You.” By M. K. Wisehart. The American Magazine, April 1921.

I, a universe of atoms, an atom in the Universe

A poem by Richard Feynman in his address to the National Academy of Sciences: There are the rushing waves mountains of molecules each stupidly minding its own business trillions apart yet forming white surf in unison Ages on ages before any eyes could see year after year thunderously pounding the shore as now. For whom, for what? On a dead planet with no life to entertain. Never at rest tortured by energy wasted prodigiously by the Sun poured into space. A mite makes the sea roar. Deep in the sea all molecules repeat the patterns of one another till complex new ones are formed. They make others like themselves and a new dance starts. Growing in size and complexity living things masses of atoms DNA, protein dancing a pattern ever more intricate. Out of the cradle onto dry land here it is standing: atoms with consciousness; matter with curiosity. Stands at the sea, wonders at wondering: I a universe of atoms an atom in the Universe.