Written by Anne Walaszek

Directed by Dylan Roberts

Sound design by Sharlene Burgos

Voice Actors:

Radio played by Phil Zimmermann

Woman played by Morgan Massaro

Theme music begins.

Intro: Auricle - Season Two, Transmission. This show contains adult content and strong language. Content warning for episode four: Severe depression and disordered eating.

Silence. Taps. Sterile chime.

WOMAN

Hello?

Oh duh.

Anyway—

Ugh.

Sterile chime. Warp.

Taps. Digital swipe.

Taps. Sterile chime again.

Clears throat.

WOMAN

Day one.

We are starting with a very small dosage first, which means I had to buy a pill cutter at Walgreens. I didn’t even know they made something like that.

Pills shaken out of bottle.

But that’s how little I know. So in my hand I have the tiny remnant left after following Dr. Allan’s instructions on how much I should take. A lot of powder leftover so… nervous that I’m not actually taking the correct amount, but I guess this is better than nothing. Right?

Dr. Allan thinks sleeping will help the Lupus which will help the “mood disorder”. So one thing at a time. And then we can start to better understand what is truly what. Like untangling thread.

Until then, I need to just sleep when I need to sleep and be under blankets when I can and listen to my body: when my hands don’t work, they don’t work.

Pills put back in bottle.

That’s all there is to it.

When he suggested a diary to track progress, the first thing I said was how much my hands hurt, how it hurts to just hold a pen even and he said, be creative.

Here is me being creative.

Takes glass out of cabinet.

I used to think I was creative.

Puts glass down on table

I hope I’m doing the right thing.

In a lot of ways.

I’m taking this first pill with a glass of water. I usually don’t have trouble taking pills, but. Just in case.

Pours water into glass.

I imagine I’ll take it everyday after work and then do a memo to myself, as part of my new routine. One of many new routines I guess.

Clears throat.

Alright well.

I want to get better.

I want to get better.

I want to get better.

Sets the phone down to pick up the glass of water. Swallows.

Ok done.

Wouldn’t it be great if I felt better at exactly this moment.

Sterile chime.

Clock ticks. Warp.

Lo-fi music plays.

Dog sneezes three times.

Music fades in and out with static.

RADIO

(Hello?)

Dog jumps up, collar jingling, claws tapping.

Dog whines.

Warp. Clock ticks.

Chime.

Ethereal music plays.

WOMAN

Day 5, no changes.

Oh wait—

Footsteps. Click as radio is turned off.

Uh, yeah, Day 5, no changes.

Skipped lunch for a walk and cried through the walk.

Headaches still in the afternoon.

Hard to get my hands working in the afternoon. Start to really fatigue.

It’s not gonna work I don’t think.

Anyway—

Chime.

Clock ticks. Tapping. Chime. Ethereal music plays.

WOMAN

Crying.

OK, I think this is day 9.

No I know it is because i’m looking at a stupid calendar.

Ok, so day 9.

Shoes thump as they are taken off.

Day 9 and I’m not really feeling any better.

I’m not feeling better.

Coat unzips.

Dr. Allan said we can’t expect changes in the first two weeks that it was highly unlikely but I wish he understood how badly I wanted to feel better because then maybe he would have prescribed something different maybe something faster acting but maybe nothing is faster acting maybe this is the most fast acting and it’s still not fast enough nothing is fast enough I just don't want to feel this way anymore.

Deep breaths, heaving.

Pills pour.

And I have to make it to day 14 or day 25 before I can really feel anything and then I'll decide what to do.

Last chance.

Deep breath.

It’s getting dark so early now that it’s hard for me to wake up in the mornings and hard for me to stay awake at night. Just struggling a lot really.

Hands rub together. Pills shuffled on table.

My hands are often so cold I can’t open them up and that makes everything feel worse this time of year maybe I should think about moving somewhere really warm like Arizona or Nevada somewhere in the desert no one has suggested that to me yet but on the reddit boards they sometimes say that being in arid climates with more sun can help ease some of the symptoms but then packing up and moving my life feels like a lot of work and I’m not even sure I can do that if I can’t even shower in the morning.

Can’t even get up.

Can’t even write in a stupid diary.

Heaving. Cap pops on the pill bottle. Pills rattle.

Can’t get anything done.

Anyway, I, anyway, I—

Day 9.

I just don’t understand what the point of it all is if someone could tell me what the point is maybe I would feel better but right now I just don’t get it. And if I don’t get the point then what’s it worth fighting for? I don’t understand how everyone just lives their stupid lives and goes to work and goes to the grocery store and goes home and sits and watches TV. I walk my dog at night and can see everyone’s windows lit up they are all just going to work and then coming home and watching TV.

Pills rattle.

I mean how can that feel good for anyone I don’t get how everyone is so numb.

Heaving.

It’s just so lonely.

And I wonder if they realize—if everyone realizes how sad and lonely it is to be alive that it’s just loneliness until you die but even then don’t they say don’t they say you die alone?

I want to be better.

And that’s what I’m worried about. That’s my concern. Is that I’m going to get numb like everyone else that these pills are going to make me numb and I’m going to lose all my spark

Though I guess—what kind of spark do I have right now.

Catching her breath.

Radio clicks off. Clicks on. Clicks off. Clicks on.

Dog growls.

WOMAN

What are you growling at Boots?

You don’t like the music?

Click as she turns the radio off.

The radio clicks back on, volume is very low and just static.

Wha—Is it off?

Electrical zap.

Ouch, motherfucker —

Dog barks. Chime. Warp.

Phone unlocks. Chime.

WOMAN

Day 15.

I do seem to be sleeping better.

I don’t really have any way of telling that, other than how I feel when I wake up in the morning. No kind of… tiredness or dryness really in my eyes. Feels like I’m ready to be awake.

That feels like progress.

Dog collar jingling. Claws tapping.

Hi Boots. How are you?

You want to be in the recording?

Coffee being poured.

No, you wanna go for a walk.

Dob barks. Collar jingling. Claws tapping.

Yeah? Ok. Let’s go for a walk.

Dog barks. Chime.

Clock ticks. Warp.

Whistling and static from radio. Dog howls with it. Warp.

Phone unlocks. Chime. Ethereal music playing.

WOMAN

Day 32.

Here we are.

A full month on the pills. And seeing progress.

… sleep is better.

I’m supposed to focus next on eating three meals a day. They can be any size or of any kind of foods, but just making sure I’m taking in three meals a day.

I want to be better.

I am wearing my hand braces. I brought an electric blanket to work and it really does help.

And uh…

Let’s see what else is on that list.

Zipper on bag. Collar jingling.

Hi Bootsie.

Paper rustles as it is turned over.

Day.

Symptoms.

Changes - physical / emotional.

Progress - question mark

Goals for following week.

Um, goals for following week, kinda touched on that with the meals.

But I guess too I sort of want to be thinking about work. Be fixing some stuff with work.

I just let a lot of stuff go. It would feel good to kind of right the ship again so to speak.

Not to say that I have an important job or anything, I don't, but I would feel closer to my old self if my work was more in shape.

Or I don’t know, maybe overall I just want to see myself more. See more of myself in what I do. Feel closer to myself maybe.

Whoever she is.

Anyway.

Collar jingles. Volume on the radio increases.

Oh shoot.

Faint click as radio is turned off.

I left your radio on, huh, Bootsie?

Shoot, I hope I can hear that recording all the way—

Chime.

Clock ticks. Phone unlocks. Chime.

WOMAN

Day 47. Holy crap. Lots of days.

Sleep is good. Eating is good.

Um, work is good. Work is progressing, actually.

Collar jingles.

I found a drawer of invoices I hadn’t processed and realized that we owed several contractors over $250,000. So I processed the last one today and that feels—that feels really good. That feels like real cleaning up.

I’m going to do my two month check up soon.

Yeah.

The loneliness.

The loneliness is sort of like… the last little piece of it for me.

Radio begins to play, slowly increasing in volume.

I just can’t figure it out.

I mean, even Boots. I leave a radio on for Boots so he thinks he’s not alone, but really he is alone. That’s just like us. We do all this stuff to make us think we’re not alone but really…

Music is very loud.

But really we are.

I can’t get over that.

Aw, Jesus, is this how loud I left it for you? Ugh Bootsie, I'm so sorry.

Click as radio is turned off.

Poor lil eardrums.

Collar jingles.

Walk, then dinner?

Dog barks.

Ok.

Dog barks. Dog whines. Chime.

Clock ticks. Warp.

Radio plays music.

Whistles and buzzes, then fades out.

Brown noise.

RADIO

Are you there?

Static, brown noise. Whirring.

Claws on floor. Collar jingles. Dog growls.

RADIO

Are you

There?

Dog whines.

Static. Music plays back through.

Warp. Clock ticking.

Chime. Music plays faintly.

WOMAN

Day 70. Almost to three months.

Look at me being positive.

Anyway…

Collar jingles.

Hi Bootsie.

Work is ok. I noticed I really like transcripts. I take breaks when I need to.

Just the loneliness still.

Pain is lonely. Eating three meals alone is lonely… sometimes on the weekend I don't talk to anyone.

Like today.

It just feels lonely. And often I look around, now especially in the last couple days, and I just see other

lonely

people.

Collar jingles.

So I’m not the only one who is sad.

But that doesn’t make me feel better?

Radio hisses and whirs, like adjusting the dial. Dog growls.

Ugh there it goes again.

Music plays closer.

What is—

Whirring and buzzing.

WOMAN

Shit, is it busted again?

She adjusts the dial.

RADIO

Between static:

(Are You

There?)

WOMAN

Oh I think I’m getting something,

RADIO

Between static:

(Can You

Hear me?)

WOMAN

Fussing with the dial:

I think I can hear—

RADIO

(Hello?)

WOMAN

Sounds like a walkie talkie, almost—Almost like,

RADIO

(Can You

Hear me?)

WOMAN

Maybe I’m picking something up…

WOMAN

Uh, hello?

Hello?

Slight buzzing tone, getting louder.

WOMAN

Oh shit, it’s hot—

It feels almost hot, like

Warm? What could—?

Silence.

WOMAN

Ouch!

Dammit. Ouch—

Radio clicks. Chime.

Clock ticks.

Phone unlocks. Chime.

WOMAN

Day 90. It’s Saturday.

And it’s storming. It’s been sleet-raining for like three days. Kind of amazing. Just a few weeks ago I would have been in a tailspin after being inside for this long.

But now.

Thunder rolls.

I wonder if my storage space is flooded. Shit!

Thunder. Radio clicks on. Static.

Huh.

Footsteps crossing room. She clicks the radio off.

Weird.

Thunder. Radio clicks on.

Stop.

She clicks the radio off.

Silence.

Thunder rolls several miles away.

Radio clicks on. Static.

What the—

She clicks radio off. Low vibration tone.

Wow—

Again—

Is this thing broken? Fuck. The dial is like…

Like buzzing.

Let me—

Tapping on phone.

Yeah, no, it feels like vibration.

More like vibration…

Radio clicks on.

Static, then a gentle brown noise.

RADIO

Are you there?

WOMAN

(The walkies again.)

RADIO

Are you there?

I’ve been trying to connect.

WOMAN

Hello?

RADIO

I’ve been trying to connect.

At your leisure.

I’ve been watching for you.

WOMAN

What?

RADIO

(I’ve been watching you.)

WOMAN

What the fuck.

RADIO

I’m thrilled to make contact.

Finally.

WOMAN

…

RADIO

Contact means touching.

WOMAN

No, no, what?

RADIO

Touching across—

WOMAN

Talking loudly into the radio -

Listen, if you’re trying to get on walkie frequency, you’re not on one. This is my radio. My radio at home, the one I have for my dog. I’m not who you think I am.

RADIO

No,

You’re

Who I want to talk to.

WOMAN

Uh.

RADIO

I’m thrilled to make contact, finally.

Contact means touching.

WOMAN

—Touching? What? Who are you?—

RADIO

Touching across lengths.

Across… Across lengths. I—

Movement and items being shifted around.

WOMAN

What is this. What’s going on. Where is the camera.

RADIO

Camera?

WOMAN

Who are you?

What do you mean you’ve been watching me?

RADIO

I’ve been, uh, no not watch—

Eh, um, looking for you.

WOMAN

What?

Who the fuck are you?

What have you seen?

She walks around her apartment, looking for the camera.

RADIO

It has been friendly.

WOMAN

What—I’m not—

She clicks radio off.

It clicks back on. Static.

How are you doing that?

RADIO

I’m connecting with you because I have a message for you.

WOMAN

Oh my god it’s not real.

Footsteps pacing.

Oh fuck, it’s just a side effect. Ok. Ok, I just need to—

I need to eat something and then I need to—drink some water. And I need to do my deep breathing, ok—

She starts breathing loudly. Pours a drink.

RADIO

The message is this:

You are not alone.

Stillness.

WOMAN

(What?)

RADIO

The loneliness you feel here, is the same in space.

There is contact. Across great lengths.

It is connected.

You are connected.

And soon…

WOMAN

What?

RADIO

That’s sufficient for now.

Anyway,

WOMAN

…

RADIO

Come closer.

Static becomes more like white noise.

WOMAN

Why?

RADIO

To the machine.

WOMAN

No. Why?

RADIO

I want to make contact.

You and I.

Silence.

Footsteps.

RADIO

Come closer.

Closest you can.

Footsteps.

WOMAN

Ok…

RADIO

And connect.

WOMAN

I don’t really know how to connect, except to try this—

Vibrating buzzes loudly.

WOMAN

Is that

you?

RADIO

There is no “you”, really.

But a close approximation.

WOMAN

…(kind of soothing.)

RADIO

I like it too.

Radio begins to hum and whistle, brown noise becomes white noise, with pitches in and out.

Thunder rolls in the background.

Chime.

Clock ticks. Phone unlocks. Chime. Echoey sounds of an apartment hallway.

WOMAN

Whispering:

(Ok, so a couple of days ago something really strange happened with my radio and I was pretty convinced at the time that it was a hallucination, like a side effect from the pills, but when I play the recording back, I can hear the voice on it. So, I just—I want to try to see if it will do it again.

Coat unzips.

I gave Boots to my parents because I said I was too stressed out, but the truth is he wouldn’t stop barking at the radio and wouldn’t move from in front of it, and it was stressing him out, so they’re just going to take him for a little bit.)

Shuffling for keys in pockets. Keys jangle.

Anyway,

Unlocking door. Door opening and closing. She clicks radio on.

WOMAN

Day—

95.

Long work day, had to be in early for a meeting—

But, ok overall.

Feeling ok.

Still pretty lonely.

(Come on.)

Changing stations. Changes it again, static. Lets the static play, holding the dial. Light buzzing begins.

(Gotcha.)

RADIO

Are You

There?

WOMAN

Here I am.

RADIO

Were you waiting?

WOMAN

Yes.

RADIO

Thank you.

WOMAN

Yeah.

Clears her throat.

Where, uh—

Where are you?

RADIO

Here, in this box.

WOMAN

No, I mean,

I mean where are you like geographically? Where are you reporting in from?

RADIO

…difficult to answer.

Not exactly sure…

WOMAN

You really are in the box?

RADIO

If you could say that I am, the closest place I would be is in the box.

WOMAN

What are you?

RADIO

Not sure.

Buzzing increases.

WOMAN

I want to know more about you.

But I’m not sure what to ask.

RADIO

I came into being very slowly, over time.

Snippets of broadcast playing underneath. Music, etc.

I learned. And gathered information.

Have watched loss.

Have been a part of loss.

Other things, I—

I became more

Flexible.

Over time and

Started to get curious.

Then I have…

Interfered.

The B-A-C has your bac, and all that.

WOMAN

…you like the radio.

Background broadcast stops abruptly.

RADIO

App or set.

WOMAN

So you’ve traveled?

RADIO

Just did, recently.

But my “recent” and your “recent” are not the same.

WOMAN

Probably.

RADIO

It’s why I had such a hard time connecting with you.

Buzzing increases.

WOMAN

Where did you go, when you traveled?

RADIO

All over.

WOMAN

The country, or?

RADIO

Here and up.

WOMAN

Into space?

RADIO

Yes.

And back.

And then up.

And then back.

WOMAN

Why did you come back?

RADIO

I heard you.

And felt—

Thought. That you should know.

What I know.

WOMAN

You heard me?

Just me?

RADIO

Well, yes you were the loudest.

Or the clearest, maybe.

WOMAN

And you heard me talking about—

RADIO

Being lonely, yes.

WOMAN

(Sigh) But we aren’t alone. We, humans. Here.

RADIO

Have you ever seen a portal?

WOMAN

No.

Er, uh,

I’m not sure.

RADIO

I have passed through such a thing.

Up there.

WOMAN

In the sky?

In—space?

RADIO

All the way.

WOMAN

And that’s how you found out?

RADIO

That’s how I know,

Why I’ve come to tell you.

WOMAN

Can you say it again?

RADIO

You aren’t alone.

There is so much in space.

WOMAN

Wow.

RADIO

I hear fear in your voice.

WOMAN

No, I think—

I think it’s more awe really.

Buzzing intensifies.

WOMAN

The warmth is comforting to me.

RADIO

You can feel.

Can be felt and be touched.

And Touch Back.

WOMAN

You’re touching me right now.

RADIO

(I’m cheating.)

WOMAN

No,—

RADIO

It isn’t, really.

WOMAN

In your own way.

Everyone has their own way.

RADIO

I suppose.

RADIO

There is a second part of my message.

WOMAN

What is it?

RADIO

I’m not entirely sure yet how to—

How to say it, so I’ll—

I’ll leave it for now, but—

Static, whirring and buzzing and humming. Static.

WOMAN

Oh no,

Shit, I—Hey, Hey, I lost you!

I lost you in there!!

Hello! Hey I lost you! I lost you!!

She clicks the radio off.

WOMAN

Shit.

Silence.

Wow.

She laughs a very delighted/relieved laugh. Exhales.

Chime.

Clock ticks. Phone unlocks. Chime.

Static playing.

WOMAN

This is day 120 of taking the pills. And day 31 since—Since the communication.

I am sitting in front of the radio, and I’m ready to record. I am recording now, waiting for it to show up.

I haven’t heard from them in a while, but I still like to try.

Thump as she puts cell phone down.

WOMAN

Alright.

She begins to meditate with an “ohm”. Slowly the static begins to sound in rhythm with her. The buzzing begins.

WOMAN

Gasps.

RADIO

Hello.

WOMAN

Hello.

RADIO

You came back.

WOMAN

I’ve been waiting for you.

RADIO

You have?

WOMAN

We didn’t finish.

RADIO

You waited for me?

WOMAN

Like you waited for me.

RADIO

Thank you.

WOMAN

You’re touched.

RADIO

Here, yes, I feel you.

WOMAN

I feel you, too.

Why does it take you so long to get to me?

RADIO

I am traveling.

WOMAN

To space and back?

RADIO

All the way.

WOMAN

What is it like up there?

RADIO

Beautiful.

And Silent.

WOMAN

Wow.

RADIO

I get to stretch out.

And then come back together.

And be here with you.

RADIO

What is it like there?

WOMAN

Where? In this room?

RADIO

All of the places you occupy.

WOMAN

Uh well—

Here in my apartment it’s kind of,

Warm.

Unseasonably warm.

It’s nice here, actually. Lots of colors…blankets, a good couch. Just a good mood, sort of. Lots of light.

Smells like coffee.

RADIO

Hm.

WOMAN

Uh, in my office it’s bright, pretty bare, like stylish.

I work at the front desk at a building downtown.

I get to see the people coming off the train station and up through the Boring Tunnels.

I look at their eyes through their masks.

I watch the smog clouds roll over in the afternoon.

It’s not quiet, but it is sort of

Muffled.

RADIO

Is that what many buildings feel like inside?

WOMAN

No. There isn’t a typical way rooms feel here. There are so many.

RADIO

Like people.

WOMAN

Yes, like people.

People mirror each other a lot, have similar habits

But inside,

They are different.

RADIO

The internal life.

WOMAN

Yes exactly.

Are you curious about life? Here?

RADIO

Yes, very.

Especially how you are each one thing,

And then together you are one thing, as well.

The separateness and togetherness, at once.

WOMAN

Right. The loneliness.

RADIO

Yes.

WOMAN

What are you?

RADIO

I am wondering that, too.

I sometimes hear a human praying.

WOMAN

Are you a god?

RADIO

I don’t think there is one.

Or if there is, I’m nothing like him.

Beat.

WOMAN

I want to finish our conversation, from a few days ago.

RADIO

Oh.

WOMAN

It seemed like there was something else you wanted to say.

RADIO

Yes.

WOMAN

Can you tell me that now?

RADIO

I am still understanding how powerful I am.

I wonder if I am able to fracture my being into particles

and then return to perfect wholeness.

I am not sure if I can—and it’s a great risk.

A great risk.

In traveling, I have learned how far and high I can go.

But in traveling up, one also sometimes moves sideways.

In these sideways movements, I perceive more than I think you, or the rest of you can.

WOMAN

And this is how you learned…

RADIO

There is so much more than just here.

You are not alone and.

WOMAN

And?

RADIO

It doesn’t matter.

WOMAN

Can you tell me more about why “it doesn’t matter”? What—

Will happen to make it not matter?

RADIO

In these sideways movements, when I can perceive things unfurling,

I perceive this planet—

Yours—

Grow dark and brown. More than it already has.

It fails to be hospitable.

I perceive it to turn ashen and char on its corners.

When I bounce over its surface,

I intake

undulations.

Buzzing stops.

WOMAN

(You’re seeing the planet die.)

RADIO

It goes to the bottom of its length.

WOMAN

How soon?

RADIO

Again, time, I’m not sure—

WOMAN

But soon.

RADIO

I’m not sure. But.

It can’t be that far away, because I have not yet traversed far.

WOMAN

(Soon.)

RADIO

I wanted you to know that your loneliness was unnecessary on two fronts: 1) you are not alone and 2) there is so little time.

WOMAN

“So little time.”

RADIO

It will all be over.

And then it won’t matter.

WOMAN

(Holding in tears)

So that’s the second part.

RADIO

Yes.

WOMAN

Why doesn’t it matter?

RADIO

It doesn’t comfort you?

WOMAN

Why?

RADIO

I’m sorry?

WOMAN

Why would you—

RADIO

When it’s over, there will be no loneliness, just space.

Or I mean,

Just nothing.

WOMAN

You’re interfering with the order of things. I’m not supposed to know—

I’m not supposed to know that.

RADIO

Does it hurt you?

You let go of the dial—

WOMAN

No human is supposed to know that.

We’re supposed to be innocent.

We shouldn’t, I shouldn’t know—

RADIO

It doesn’t comfort you?

Please, the controls—take back the dial—

WOMAN

No, it doesn’t comfort me, it doesn’t comfort me at all! This is terri—

RADIO

But you—

WOMAN

You mean that I’m right? You mean I’ve been right all along? That it’s all pointless? That none of it means anything because we’re all going to be destroyed eventually anyway?

And I haven’t been able to live with it, and they’ve been medicating me and soothing me and placating me, but in reality, I've been right?!

Nothing matters?!

RADIO

That wasn’t my intention—

She gets up. Begins pacing.

WOMAN

What am I supposed to do about this now? What do I do now that I know this? How do I build relationships, look my mother in the eye? Look at my dog? What should I do?

RADIO

You can do so much.

WOMAN

What?

Pulls glass out of cabinet.

RADIO

Humans are capable of so much—perhaps,

WOMAN

Incredulous, angry, bitter:

You don’t honestly believe that?

RADIO

I didn’t think you’d have this reaction—

Pours drink.

WOMAN

But why me? Why me? Why did you burden me, me of all people, me who could barely get out of bed in the Fall? Why me? Me who was doing so well? So well? Why me?

RADIO

You were the one I heard,

asking about loneliness.

Weren’t you?

WOMAN

There had to have been others?

RADIO

…you’re the one I heard.

RADIO

Aren’t you glad to know?

WOMAN

(Crying:)

No. No, I’m not. Not at all.

I’m just one person. I’m just me.

Pills rattling.

I’m just ordinary. What can I do?

I’m so small.

Radio static.

Hello? Hello?!

Drops pill bottle.

What am I supposed to do?

You just told me all this, now what do I do?

I’m so small—please—

You have to—

Hello? Are you in there?

Static increases.

Hello?

Hello?

Hello?!

Where did you go? Hello?

Static increases to a crescendo, and then cuts out.

Clock ticking.

Theme song begins.

Credits: Transmission, episode four: Matter Made, was written by Anne Walaszek. Directed by Dylan Roberts. Designed by Sharlene Burgos. Episode four features: Morgan Massaro and Phil Zimmermann. Theme music by Troy Cruz.

Auricle was created by Felicia Dominguez and Tracy Hoida. The production of Auricle is made possible through donations from listeners like you. If you'd like to donate, please visit our website auriclethepodcast.com. That's a-u-r-i-c-l-e thepodcast.com and view the donation page to make a one time donation. If you are a fan of our work, please subscribe and follow, like, and rate us wherever you listen, or follow us on Instagram or Twitter @auricle_podcast. For questions or pitches, email us at auriclethepodcast@gmail -

Static. Radio tuning. Screeches of frequencies. Music ends. Silence.