I'll keep this short. We have a Patreon. And lately the amount on that Patreon has gone down.

While income from live shows and merch do obviously help, the Patreon is still the main way that

we make this show and pay all the people involved, both behind the scenes and, you know, in front of

the scenes. Is that the phrase? So if you are able to and have not yet supported us on Patreon,

please consider it. It helps the show exist. And we have all sorts of cool rewards, like

director's notes on every episode, zoom hangs with the cast and crew, add free versions of every

episode, and even having yourself inserted as a character into the show, yes, you could become

an actual citizen of Nightfail. To help us out, go to welcometonightfail.com and click on donate.

Please consider doing that and enjoy the show goodbye.

The trees are dying again. You know it. I know it. The trees know it. They have known it for decades,

centuries, in some cases. The shiver of cyclic symbolic death, a rattle in the cold night air,

a rattle in the footsteps of a hungry deer. It is October and something is different.

It is October and the trees draw the crackling red and orange curtain on the year's final act.

It is October and so listeners, deer listeners. Nightfail Community Radio is proud to introduce

the October monologues. I am lonely. Oh, I see people. I see lots of people every day. I see you

right now. I see you, Caleb, sitting in your rolling desk chair, hunched over your computer.

I am a faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home watching you download yet another

video game, Caleb. But seeing people and being with people are different things. Different ideas

altogether. I miss touch most of all. A father's hand, a friend's arms, a lover's chest.

I still touch, am touched. But it is not the same. It is not a mutual touch. My touch is unwelcome,

unfriendly, unwanted. Yet I touch because I love, and I love you, Caleb. I do. I know you don't

believe me after what I did to you tonight, but I do. My love is not romantic, nor maternal.

...