He forced himself away from the close game. Twenty minutes later he was standing at the Stoddard residence.Two women were shouting inside the house, m...ffled by the door.He knocked again. Harder.The door yanked open, a middle-aged man was there, his jowls ruddy. "Detective?" he blinked."Your wife called. Phillipa has turned up?" Yeah." Another loud yell echoed from upstairs."Is everything all right?" Phillipa is moving out," he answered. "Her mother is ... discussing it with her." Has she told. Some dividends were reinvested back into the awarding company while others were used to strengthen her behind the scenes control of the city’s criminal element.Then came the bad years. The years where her husband speculated feverishly, losing and gaining small fortunes within days, generating a deep sense of insecurity for his wife. After two years, she’d had enough, and became determined to stop him before he destroyed the family name and her in the process.Choosing her time, she struck when. I could tap into it, and redirect it out of me, but reversing the flow wasn't going to happen. Imagine opening a dam's floodgate and trying to empty a bucket of water back into the lake behind it! This metaphor felt reasonable, but it was still far more a figment of my imagination than based on much in the way of facts.[[It's not a great metaphor, but it captures some aspects fairly well and is useful enough for now. Later on I find a way of reversing the flow, an effect I also name after Ava,. I think you'll like them better than the picture on the website.There was a delay, and after I sent a message asking whether she got the photos, she came back.LukeWarmMama: Did you get those pictures from the Internet?YoungFungi: No. That's me, for better or worse.LukeWarmMama: How do I know that? Can't see your face.YoungFungi: I'm shy. Look at the date of the newspaper.LukeWarmMama: Holy s***!Young Fungi: It's okay to say shit.LukeWarmMama: Shit. It's not even hard, is it?YoungFungi: To be.