Today's word is: Loveableness!

               The crowds all keep rushing by, on their way here and there like ants in a colony. A few of them even acknowledge each other as they pass, but it’s a rare occurrence. And there I stand here, still, being knocked this way and that as everyone churned forward to their workplaces.

               What am I even doing? Hoping for some sort of human interaction, I guess. I saw a few of them glace at me where I stand, wearing my long raggedy coat and hat. It was only ever like this at rush-hour, so it made sense that I came here now, but as for why, well, that was a different kettle of fish. It’s difficult to say exactly why, except for perhaps the idea that someone might bump into me, to have a conversation. Even if someone just asked what I was up to, that would’ve done. But no, nothing.

               At that moment, a bell chimes above. Eight-fourty-five. I should get a move on, I can’t be late for my meaningless filing. I let the tide of the crowd pull me toward my office-block, a mediocre looking building with grey walls, blue halls and the smell of paint and coffee.  Recently they even put some cheese-plants in to make the place look vaguely more accessible, but nothing says I love my work like plasticesque indoor foliage.

               I climbed the stairs to my little cube, not a single response from any of my so-called co-workers. Tapping keyboards, phones ringing and the occasional screech of our crappy wheeled chairs scraping across the plastic linoleum. This place is a little slice of purgatory. Not bad enough to be hell; but balancing on a knife-edge between acceptable and abysmal. I can’t even fathom what half of my job is as I sit down and start booting up Excel and Word and another thing for accounts, and a proxy so I can still see half the internet while I’m on my break.

               There’s no joy as my day flits by, another eight hours of clicks and numbers and tired eyes. I didn’t even bother standing in the crowds to gain something. I stop at a Tesco on the way home and buy some macaroni and cheese, but I don’t even really like it, let alone love it. The only thing I can think is that she’ll  be home and awake by now. Then again, she does like to nap.

               I catch a packed bus home, the smell of sweat and smoke on everyone around like smog. No one enjoys the bus except little kids, and sooner or later they learn otherwise. I get off, trudge up my driveway and slot a key into the door.

               Immediately, I’m knocked back by the smells of spice and warmth. It’s the antithesis of the office, all reds and oranges and browns, and from the kitchen she yells “You’re just in time, lovely, dinner’s almost done.” And then I remember why I’m going to go through it all again tomorrow.

               

Happy 1001st viewer, Blog!

So, last night with the addition of yesterday's (or today's post, but who's keeping track anyway), Sudden-fiction-sunday.blogspot.co.uk hit 1000 hits. Yaaay!

So here's a breakdown of who has been visiting:

United Kingdom	743
United States	138
Germany	29
Russia	23
United Arab Emirates	21
Argentina	12
Egypt	11
Sweden	9
Netherlands	8
Belgium	6

Firstly, and foremost, I'm from the UK, so most of the UK hits can be accounted for. Still, if you're someone who doesn't know me personally, I'm really very glad you follow this blog.

Second, the US. I can only think of a handful of people who are out in the US, so this one's a little trickier to explain. Even still, thanks for dropping by! :D

Now we get into the more confusing territory. I only know two people in Germany at the moment, so for all you German viewers, Hi and hello!

This one really confuses me, though. Hello Russia, nice to see you here. I don't actually know any Russians (except my aunt, but she lives in London somewhere anyway), so it's great to see you here.

Same goes for you, United Arab Emirates. I mean, that one seems particularly random, but still, I hope you guys are enjoying my snippets of literacy.

Argentina! Hi! How's it going. Only twelve of you out there, so that one's really interesting.

And hello to you Egyptian followers. Down to eleven! 

Sweden. Now this one I can account for. Hi Abso-folk, nice to see you've dropped by ;) (and for those of you sitting there going, "Abso-folk? Huh?" then I'm glad to see you too!

Netherlands can also be attributed in part to Absolution. So hello to you out there, and same goes if that made no sense to you!

And finally, Belgium. I know of a few people out there who might read this, so I'm glad you've taken the time to stop and look.

Anyway, that was the point-break-down for the countries. Thanks again for helping me hit the 1000 mark, and lets hope I've got more flash fictions up my sleeve!

Yesterday's word was: Photosynthesis!

Sorry about this being late! I’d love to say I was busy, but it was more or less just not knowing what the fuck to write. So anyway, here goes:

               Where did it go? Where is it!? I’m so hungry….

               It stared towards the concrete sky. A little bit of light filtered down, but the poor thing could already feel itself wilting.

               C’mon, it’s not like I’m asking for much here. A little bit of flare, that’s all. I just need to bask a little while. I’ve got plenty of water. Just a little break would do.

               The little strip of foliage didn’t know how long it had been cloudy. Plants don’t really check a calendar or observe holidays. They just wait. That was all there was to it.

               A few vibrations began to stir the damp soil, reaching through dirt and detritus to the plants slightly furred roots. It was rhythmic, but it wasn’t rain, but rather a plants worst nightmare.

               Agh, get off, there’s a thing on my stem! Get off, get off, stop it! The plant couldn’t shake, couldn’t escape. It’s getting closer to my leaves, my precious leaves! I need those you thief! Get away!

               It was something long, slightly hairy, and too big to be a group of ants, too heavy to be a centipede. The creature only had one thought on its mind, and that was to feed.

               Oh no… it’s a pillar…thing. What are they for anyway? They just make useless fluttery things, and they don’t spread pollen half as well as the bumble-y guys. I know; I’ll just wait. I’ll get him off.

               Slowly, steadily, the caterpillar climbed up the plant, reaching ever closer towards food. Perhaps if he was full, he could even hang his cocoon off of the top. But who knows, he still felt hungry.

               That’s right, a little closer, I’ve nearly got you, you rogue. Aha! Take this!

               Suddenly, the plants leaves flooded with tannic acid! It was too late, the caterpillar had already begun eating, and couldn’t stop. More of the toxin drained into the plant’s assailant. Victory, at last!

               Ah, stupid thing. I think I can even feel the clouds breaking. I sure hope it’s the Sun!

               It wasn’t. It was a meteorite.

               

Today's word is: Speaker!

               It just sat there. Doing absolutely nothing.

               I’d bought a pair of them in a garage sale down the road from a guy with a crooked walk, and an even crookeder look in his eye. He couldn't wait to be rid of them, sold me the pair for just under a tenner. Attempting to set them up in my car, I couldn't get the fricking things to work for the life of me.

               On the drive home, my car was totaled by some asshole in a red four-by-four. He just came out of left field and in the crash my boot sprang open and one of the speakers got absolutely crushed by a bus, which in turn burst a tire and went reeling off to one side. From there, I rang my insurance, rang my parents, and rang work. I wasn’t going in the next day; that was for sure.

               So I took the remaining (left) speaker, and caught a taxi home. My neck hurt a little from the jaunt, but I was more or less fine. Still, more than acceptable as an excuse for a day or two off from handing tickets out. I stared at the now lonely speaker, and the round pad in the centre seemed to stare back. It was a little unnerving, but mostly just because it rattled in my empty flat. I shook it, but the box appeared to move against me, as if it was trying to unbalance me. I set it down and pushed it out of my mind for a week, up until just now, in fact.

               See, I was watching reruns of Top Gear (there’s nothing on during the day anyway), and I was more focused on the groups of school kids walking by outside, when I heard a faint knock.

               I got up, walked to the door, but there was nothing there. Bloody kids, probably. I sat back down, and heard the same knocking. However, it sure as hell wasn't coming from the front door, but from somewhere inside. I guessed at pipes, first, and then at something banging against the wall from outside, but as I stood up, the speaker toppled over on its side.

               The strange knocking was coming from inside the speaker, so I snatched it from the floor and shook it again. The counterbalancing feeling happened once more, only it seemed worse. I didn’t want this thing in my house anymore, but as I walked to the door, I heard one of the creepiest things in my life.

               “Where’s my sister?” it whispered. The voice sounded course, crusty, like wires zapping from being a little damp.

               So what do I do now? This thing is still talking to me.

Today's word is: Mottephobia!

Now hold on,  I know what a lot of you (at least those of you who know me for reals) are thinking “mottephobia? Bit lucky for that to be the word this week.” Well, have a gold star, because it isn’t  lucky at all, but rather because in the past week, I’ve rediscovered my absolute loathing of all moth kind. So, fuck the police, today I’m not going to do a random word, but instead here’s a story about my absolute fear of moths.

               Pastel shades of lilac punctuated the orange sky that night. It was lovely, and with a warm summery breeze blowing through the open window, I took my chance and swooped in. It was bright in this new place, really bright. A thing like the sun hung from the centre of the square place I’d just become a new resident of. There were places to hide everywhere too, open places, dark places, under-the-bed places, and it sure was great. I could stay here a while.

               I felt the air change as a large door opened across the room, it must have been a part of this bigger place I was in, and in came a human. A man-human, with hair and shorts and stuff that smelled like sweetness. He seemed friendly, and I bet he wouldn’t have minded, but I think I was too quick to show up.

               He swung an arm, and the gust blew me round. I was dizzy. I didn’t like it in here anymore, it was weird and the light was really big, and I wanted it, so I flew upwards, but something swept me away, like a tentacle of the things that hung up one of the dark, open places. I fluttered back up toward the sun-thing and I bounced away, it repelled me. I tried again to no effect. By now, I could feel the human on the other side of the room. He was shrieking and throwing big clumps of things at me, and every time one got close, the air tore me away. But I no longer cared, I kept smashing myself against the sun-thing. It could’ve been for days.

               The last thing I remember was a big soft, heavy thing catching and pulling me down. I couldn’t move, my wings shattered and I’m too sleepy to think.

***

               I walked into the room, sat on my bed and opened my laptop. Looking outside, the sky was pretty and all, but having spent the day getting sunned, I thought a little inside time was more than apt.

               A dark shadow flew past my face and I flinched, shoulders up. Not another one.

               I swung my hand aimlessly, trying to hit it, but the stupid thing flew out of the way. The moth darted toward the light, and bounced. The dread boiled up inside, and I considered just leaving the room entirely. I didn’t need my laptop, right?

               But no, I had to do something about the moth, so I chucked a bunched pair of underwear at it, no effect. I kept throwing pieces of clothing, but the harder I tried, the more frantically the moth bashed against my light. Time seemed to move slower, and the longer it took to catch the little bastard, the more scared I felt. I know they’re harmless, but they’re erratic, they’re annoying, they’re precious. When you kill one, they seem to turn into a grey smear of dust, which is just nauseating.

               As a last ditch attempt, I took a used bedsheet and threw the entire thing at the fluttering menace, which caught it and went down. I shook what was left of the moth away and chucked the sheet in the wash. Breathing slowly, I sat down and cold fingers sped down my back. I shook my head and lay back, staring up at the dusty ceiling.

               “I should shut the window.” 

Today's word is: Exutory!

               “There’s an exutory!”

               The room was silent save for the repetitive beep of a heart-monitor and the slow pushing wheeze of breathing apparatus. Light shone off of every surface, the scalpels and tongs and clamps of an E.R, but not a single orderly or nurse made a sound.

               “An exutory people! Get moving!” Doctor Hargreave said, a surgical knife in hand. The other doctors looked at each other, masks obscuring all but their eyes.

               “What… what do you mean?” Nurse Foreman whispered. She seemed loathe to break the silence.

               Hargreave lowered the knife, his eyes ablaze. “You know, now find out what it is!” Nurses and doctors alike peered at one another. Doctor Bisharpe shrugged at Nurse McDonald. Foreman returned with a large dusty book.

               Beep beep beep. Beep beep beep.

               “You can’t bring that bloody thing in here!” Hargreave’s voice carried over the various machines. “You should know the term, Foreman. Can’t anyone just follow an instruction?!”

               “No one knows what the word is Hargreave!” Bisharpe to Hargreave, E-five. “You’re using a word no-one knows.”

               Beep beep beep. Beep.. beep.. beep.

               A bead of sweat trickled down Hargreave’s face before being stopped on its way down by his mask. “It’s an issue, ok?! An issue. A bloody issue in the stupid patient. Now find it!”

               And the room sprang into action.

“5 milligrams of rocephin!”

               “I need another blood-bag here!”

               “Why didn’t he just say there was an issue?!”

               Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep.

               “We don’t have time for this! Hand me a clean scalpel, he’s not breathing and we need to do a tracheostomy!”

               The room swirled with movement, clattering and shifting and making sure everything was set for the process. Still, no one could find the issue complicating an otherwise easy procedure.

               Bisharpe spun around, watching the patients sats sink like a brick through a lake. “Is there something in his lungs, Hargreave?”

               But there was no response.

               “He’s frozen!” Foreman cried. Hargreave had stopped everything, his eyes down on the boy with a new hole in his throat. “Get him out of here!

               Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-

So, it's been a while:

Hello everyone!

For various reasons (i.e skiing, coursework, killing dragons ect) I haven't been as proactive as I'd like to have been for the past few weeks, but I'm kicking this back up now I've got more free time. Isn't that exciting?

For now, I thought I'd share my flash-fiction-based coursework I did over Easter, which is all centred around the items people sell on eBay around Valentine's Day because they are "not needed". Each item listed is a real thing I found on eBay that I could have bought, and this is also my first time linking many flash fictions together. I hope you enjoy it!

Not Needed

Listed: February 15^th 2013

Matching his/hers hoodies and towels. New.

Description: Due to unforeseen circumstances, this is no longer necessary. Never been worn/used. Contact for more information.

               Tom narrowly dodged a plant-pot flung at his head, which smashed as fast as their crumbling engagement. The earth clung to the walls, leaving a brown smear on the bone-white, but he couldn’t stand still for too long, more foliage was on its way.

               “You’re out of your mind!” He yelled, a particularly nice peace lily meeting its doom to his right. The room was slowly becoming less inviting. The pillows from the sofa were everywhere, uprooted from their usual place, and glass was shattered across the fine mahogany floorboards she’d insisted were so pretty at the time.

               Lydia launched another pot, this time a hand-sized grenade-like cactus, pre-empting his movements and hitting Tom squarely in the chest. The cry of pain echoed through their apartment. I do hope the neighbours are out.

               “Aargh! Seriously,” He panted, doubled over while brushing spines and dirt off his striped shirt. “Who reacts like this? It was just a phone-call.”

               “I heard her voice, Tom! I’ve heard it before, you’re clearly fucking that bitch!”  The moment Tom’s back was turned, Lydia seized the opportunity, pushing the wheeled armchair directly at him. It slammed with a large thud.

               “And what,” he snarled, looking up at her immaculate face through his now tousled black hair. “You immediately jump to us having an affair when I just forked out about one-and-a-half grand so we can go on a honeymoon for our future wedding? Call me crazy, but that’s one expensive fucking cover-up.”

               He waited for a response, and like clockwork, the insanity melted into crocodile tears. Lydia collapsed into a ball, crying while her floaty summer dress pooled around her like magma. Whatever this whole act was, it was damned theatrical.

               “Ah, we’re at this stage now.” He walked to her, sidestepping broken petals to her side, and squatted a foot or so away. Make up lined her face in smudged bars, and her hair was everywhere, in a haystack. She looked at him, before dispersing into more floods of tears. Sighing, he put his hand on her shoulder.

               “So what did you get for me then?” He smiled, attempting to alleviate the situation. Tom looked around the devastation. It was the same more or less every time. I’m going to have to do another plant run, I guess.

               Lydia looked at her soon-to-be-husband and buried her face in his chest. Great, another shirt ruined. She gracelessly groped around behind her for something, before pulling out a now trampled package covered in dirty shards. Towelling peeped through the torn paper.

               Cringing a little at the saccharine gift, he forced a grin. “See, we needed new… err… his and hers towels! Awh, it’s sweet.”

               At that, the tears broke off abruptly, and she took back the parcel, “I’ll sell these ones on eBay. I mean, they’re a bit ruined now, and then we can start planning for the trip, yeah?”

 Tom rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Listed: February 13^th 2013

One set of La Sanza lingerie, Red Lace, 32-C. Used. 

Description:

Only worn once, this set should spice up any romance. Not needed any longer.

               The rain pattered against the windows, filling the awkward silence between Vince and Ellie. Every now and then, lighting would ignite the features of the room, just long enough to silhouette his dark, hulking frame against the walls.

               The pair sat on the end of a hardly unmade bed. “I’ll… sleep on the sofa then?” Vince mumbled, looking at his feet. His eyes were full of tears. “Don’t be silly,” Ellie comforted, grabbing his cool hand in her own freezing ones. Vince flinched a little.

               Wordlessly, Vince grasped the duvet and drew it round the two of them, cutting off the rain and the darkness to a safe-feeling hideaway. He looked at the barely visible features of her face. “I wish I’d found out sooner. I bet I’ve screwed you up a lot.”

               Ellie shook her head, cuddling up to him. Her body was like ice against his. “I don’t feel you have. At least now we can start this new chapter together. And heck, we’ve roomed together for years, I’m not going anywhere just yet.” The tall, cue-balled man smiled at the slight girl beside him, and drew her in. Ellie breathed in sharply. She was going to miss the cuddles, that was sure.

               “How do you know?” Maybe it wasn’t what she thought it was. “Well, obviously this is a bit of a giveaway, but did you know before today?”

               Vince nodded vaguely, still not looking at her. His fists clenched and unclenched, and Ellie could feel a tear or two hit her leg. It wasn’t fair. Was she defective? Some girl who can only ever chase the wrong thing? He was big, protective, and good looking, but didn’t want her. Couldn’t want her. Ellie shied away from the thought, and let the night run on through the rain. Regardless, Ellie could hardly leave him now.

Listed: February 15^th 2013

One soft-leather bondage set including: four bed-ties, handcuffs, PVC bed-sheets and two cotton blindfolds. All black. Used

Description

This once-in-a-lifetime bundle comes at a very reasonable price. Used twice, this item has been thoroughly cleaned and is in pristine condition.

Selling due to unforeseen circumstances.

               Riley had never been so ready for anything in his life. The sheets were pressed, and newly on, the candles around the room were lit. A gentle, if slightly brisk breeze rolled through the slatted wooden blinds. Perfect.

               Dong, Dong. 9 strikes.

Riley looked at the clock on the far wall. Would he have time to use the loo? No, it would take him forever to get back into position. It had taken all evening already. Besides, maybe she’d be excited by the prospect of-

The door opened with a slam. The woman looked utterly flustered, eyes half shut with headphones still in. Her normal smart shoes weren’t on, replaced by worn, outdated trainers.

“Ugh, such a mess, traffic was murder, and I can’t believe I was this late on Valentine’s Day.” She grumbled, pottering around removing her shoes and gloves and various other trappings. “So what was this big Valentine’s Day surprise-” Her voice faltered, looking first around the room, and then to the bed.

Tied, ankles and wrists against each bedpost, with naught but a pillow covering his cock, was her boyfriend of 6 months. Riley grinned, guessing she had seen, not that he could tell through the blindfold across his eyes. Any minute now… any minute.

“What the HELL is wrong with you?” she screamed. Vi looked at around the bed, before snatching the blindfold off of the thirty-something year old man. “Seriously, what the Hell?” Instead of the grinning, slightly naughty face he expected from her, she looked shocked, even angry at him.

“You don’t know me at all, do you? DO YOU?” He cowered away from the biting fury in her voice. Now what was he going to do? “This was supposed to be our Valentine’s Day. Our first one!”

Vi shook her head, before storming out of the bedroom, snuffing a couple of rose-and-cinnamon scented candles on the way.

“Well shit.” He mumbled, before he tugged at each wrist brace with a frown. He’d secured the ones on his wrists with his teeth, but now there was not a snowball’s chance in Hell he could untie them again. “Vi? Can you at least untie these? We can talk about it, right?”

The silence said it all. Any second now, he expected to hear the slam of a door, or the phone ringing for Vi to talk to her mother about staying over. Riley’s eyes filled with tears. “We can talk about it, Vi, please come back!”

He tugged fruitlessly at the bindings, trying desperately to free himself to console his girlfriend. His thoughts drifted to his coat pocket, inside of which was a sapphire and chrome ring Vi had seen and loved a week or so ago, but now through his carelessness, he’d lost her. Riley’s longish ash-blonde hair covered his face, and he waited for the inevitable.

The door creaked, but he didn’t raise his face. He couldn’t face her, not like this.

“Look up.”

All he could hear was the ticking clock, but as he raised his face, his eyes brightened. The short, fiery-headed woman was dressed from head-to-toe, or... well… toe-to-knee and then belly-button-to-bust in leather. A top-hat perched on her curled hair, and on her crotch, attached by harness, was the shiniest, largest strap-on dildo he had ever seen. Riley gulped.

“You bought leather bindings? What ever happened to the chains, huh? God, you’re an idiot. I’ll make you pay for that.”

Listed: February 15^th 2013

18ct White-Gold Diamond Solitaire Engagement Ring Clarity VS1

Description

Brand new white-gold engagement ring, never worn. Was not wanted.

               Tonight is the night.

               Tonight is the night that she’ll marry me. That’s all there is to it.

               I look around the restaurant, couples all over the place happily eating, trading stories and laughing. Getting to know each other. We did the same three years ago, and it’s finally time. I think we’re ready. Aha, here she comes now. Fuck, she’s beautiful too. The high-neck red dress with the open shoulders and the frill-thing at the bottom, and her black-brown hair all knotted like silk behind her. But she’s flushed, and keeps glancing around the room.

               “Hey honey”, I say, mouth parched. I drank all the water in the first half an hour waiting for her. She’s late, but I guess she had work to do.

               “Bill, this is… nice.” She doesn’t like the place. But we came here before. Maybe that’s it. Maybe she just doesn’t like it here.

“We can go somewhere else.” I offer to leave, to find another place, whichever is the most expensive. She’s worth it.

               I start to my feet, and she sits down, so I guess that’s not it. I sit back down too, and I my mind paints out a thousand different pictures. “Did you want a drink? I can call the waiter over.” She nods, and when the fancily-dressed man arrives, she asks for vodka, neat.

               “So how was work?” I stab at conversation. Maybe she’s just not feeling well. Women’s problems, or stress, or she could’ve caught something. She doesn’t say anything and gazes into the candle in the centre of the table.

               “I’ve fucked the boss.” Her voice twists, harsh, as though she had rehearsed that phrase a dozen times. My fingers run across the little chestnut case in my pocket, and I hear her say “fucked” half-a-hundred times until it doesn’t even sound like a word any longer.

               “Well, why?” I know why. Fucked. Fucked. Get out of my head. I stand up, I feel sick, and it can’t be from the three whiskeys I’ve had waiting for her.

“I just need someone else. You’re so boring.” Boring. Fucked. My head’s spinning. I spend so much on her, why doesn’t she love me? Why?

               I stumble, kicking a dessert cart in my haste to the bathroom. People are watching, staring at me. I open the top of my shirt, breaking a button while I careen towards the bathroom.

               Like our relationship.

               Fucked.

Listed: February 14^th 2013

One complete wardrobe of women’s clothing, sizes range from 8-12.

Description

I’m taking a leap of faith today. I’m hoping it’s the right leap. Most clothing used to varying degrees.

               That was the last box.  Elin waved the slightly confused looking pick-up man away and shut the door. It felt so freeing, knowing that was it. And whether he wanted to come or not, Elin knew she would never be so restricted again. Spinning around the house, Elin started mixing up flour and eggs in just her apron.

               The doorbell went, and at the ringing through the silence, Elin yelped, spilling a little of the mixture on her “Baking for Beginners” book. He was home early, what would she say. Could she just say it immediately? Oh damn, what if it was a mistake?

               Elin steadied herself, knowing either way, she would be fine. Well. Mostly. She could still work from anywhere, so it all depended on Patrick’s decision. With a sure spring in her step, she waltzed toward the door, and opened it.

               “Elin? You’re-…” The sentence hung in the air. Elin spun around and curtsied with her air-dress. Patrick’s broad face split into a cheeky grin. “Oh, I see, well happy Valentine’s Day to you too.” He pressed his lips against hers, and shut the door.

               Well, so far so good, she thought, wandering a little behind him into their shared bedroom. “Good day, dear?” his deep, silk voice seemed musical. “Better now you’re back.”

               “I’m glad of the random nudity. Good surprise.. yeah, good.” He grinned again, stripping down to his boxers. The naked girl walked through to their room, and stared at her boyfriend, her sapphire eyes bright in their pastel-shaded boudoir.

               “What about… permanently?” Her voice softened, and she toed the carpet, looking anywhere but his face. “What, as in… nudism?”

               Mistake mistake, abort! “N-not necessaril-…” She looked back up at him, and, as naked as the day he was born, opened a box revealing a simple silver ring.

               “Permanent sounds good to me.” Patrick locked his soft granite-eyes onto hers and decided to marry his slightly unconventional partner.