This was started as The 365 Story Part 1, so if you want to catch up with the story I would suggest there first. To make it even easier for future reads, I have created a new page The 365 Story – In Development. This will contain all parts of the story as of the last blog post. So, in this case, it has Part 1 only!

With thanks to Tshang of 365Vets for basement laboratory, wife Irene (who has Alzeimers) and the Ebers Papyrus, Napthali of Craig Motor for rebuilding the stop light and Jackie Paulson of Post A Day Challenge for photos that talk!

And here we go:

The 365 Story – Part 2

Home, Charlie mused, home. That used to be such a wonderful place before Irene got sick. It had not taken long for the Alzeimers to ruin her body and their marriage. 35 years of wedded bliss and now a year of sickness. Unfair, he mumbled, just dang unfair.

But that is when the plan started to come together. It all happened almost at once. That strange letter with the instructions on how to build the device, and where to find that bit of ancient Egyptian paper. The letter said that its name was the Ebers Papyrus, and that it was meant to be locked away in a museum in Germany but that was wrong, so wrong. All he had to do was send away a self-addressed envelope and, within a week, it arrived by courier to his front door. He could tell that was very old.

But the strangest one was the photo that talked. He could not help thinking of the Harry Potter movies when he needed to use the photo, but that was where the resemblance stopped. The people in the photo knew things, told him things that would never have known without it. They told him what stuff he needed, how to build it and where to build it.

Driving into the driveway, Charlie left the pickup truck idling. After each successive burglary, stealing, knicking, he felt more and more guilty. This time it got the better of him, so he reversed out of the driveway back to the scene of his latest crime.

But they were there. He could see the glow of them way before he got too close. They were there, and if he got any closer they would know it was him again. Charlie had started to suspect that they knew it was him anyway. If they found him now, it would ruin everything. The plan was almost complete now.

Slipping into reverse and planting his foot on the accelerator, the truck zig-zagged backwards down the street before he could spin it around and throw it into first gear. Hopefully, he had been far enough away that they did not hear him.

Before too long, he was back in his driveway, sweating and watching the street for followers. Irene knew when he sat in the car that there may have been trouble, so she stayed upstairs.

But it was downstairs where he needed to go. The basement had been converted, over time, into a laboratory. The photo people told him what he needed to do and how the experiments should go. Each time a new part of the machine was integrated, the photo people asked for more test to be run.

This should be the last set of tests before he could fix everything. Change it back to when life was good.

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