Aluxia

The door viciously pinched his fingertips as it slammed shut.

"Don't think we don't know what you're up to, boy!"

Harry stuck them in his mouth. Five bright slats of light from the cupboard's visor illuminated his face. Gaunt, dirty, defiant.

One day, I won't live here anymore, he thought to himself, shaking the aching sting out of his hand. One day, it'll be the last time they ever lock me in here.

A strand of starlight fell down over Privet Drive, settling its invisible gossamer thread around young Harry Potter's magical core, tying a knot around his promise.

At the same time, deep in the heart of a scarred castle, in an old forest, near a town that was forgotten more than a hundred years ago, young Theodore Nott curled his fist over his heart.

One day, I'm going to get out.

His uncle's voice lanced through the stone, The vicious snarls of his hunting dog didn't drown out the painful screams from the demiguise. Theo slid his hands over his ears, wishing to magic itself that he could somehow put the silencing wards back up without his uncle ever knowing.

One day, I'll take this place back, he decided, rocking slightly as the screaming and snarling and cacophony of men celebrating the bloodbath grew to an unbearable heights.

One day, my life will be mine, both of them swore.

Wait, no. That's a bit harsh, innit? Let's rephrase.

Every summer, your best friend returns to his cage.

The first time this happened, you had to break him out.

You asked your older brothers to help, and the three of you pulled the bars from his window and spirited him away.

You showed him around the home you feel self-conscious about and he looked at it like it was the most wonderful thing he'd ever seen.

You were pleased by it, but at the same time, you couldn't help but remind yourself that he doesn't know any better, living in a cage and all. Anything would be better.

That school year, your best friend saves your sister's life.

Then he returns to his cage.

The following summer, you're not here to break him out so he has to do it himself.

He blows up one of his jailors and runs off into the night, unaware that he's gambling with his life by doing so.

It's a bit of a mess.

If you had to put a specific start to it, you'd say that that year's when the adults start really insisting that your best friend is better off in his cage.

It's safer in there, apparently.

Every year, the matter of the cage gets brought up, though that is never what the adults call it.

Every year, you start to feel like you've befriended someone's pet bird, who can only stretch his wings when his owner allows it, and who has to stay in his cage so the cat doesn't get to him.

(You don't like cats much. Your other best friend has a lot to say about that.)

It always feels wrong to you, but you learn to ignore it.

It's for his safety, you repeat to yourself.

Your best friend lives in a cage.

Once upon a time, you were the first person who ever tried to free him of it.

It seems to you like that was eons away.

Now you're one of the people who tell him that the cage cannot be so bad if it keeps him alive.

Who are you betraying by saying so, you wonder.

Him?

I explained very clearly to the manager my issue with the meat section not having the price tags listed, and they claimed it was only going to be for the meat, since meat is by weight, and the price of each item is printed on the packs of each item.

Sure. That’s how they get their foot in the door. Fast forward not even two weeks, and here we are:

Bar codes. No prices, no item descriptions. No price stickers on the individual items. Heck, not even the name of the item that is SUPPOSED to be there.

No. The only way to see the price is to scan it on your phone app, which is also recording what you looked at recently, as a way of gauging what you might be looking for in the future.

So here’s what we’re gonna do gang:

Every time you go into a store that has implemented these price-less tags:

Take 1-3 items up to the cash register. Ask the cashier for the price, or hit the price check item on the self checkout, which will likely call over the attendant.

Express that you didn’t actually want it, you just couldn’t see on the shelf how much it was.

POLITELY, AND WITH A THANK YOU FOR THE PRICE CONFIRMATION, Give the items to the cashier or attendant to put back.

When they inevitably try to push the app, politely decline. If pressed for why not, say you don’t want to have to carry your phone in-hand the whole time you are shopping in order to see how much things cost. (Not having cell service or data to use the app is NOT a valid excuse, as stores already often have complimentary WiFi AND more stores will provide WiFi rather than give up on this push for surveillance pricing)

If it’s a shelf-stable item, the cashier will have to set it aside, taking up room in their limited operating space, and eventually pass it off to someone to put in a holding area to put back later. If it’s a fridge/freezer item, it might have to get tossed due to food product sale regulations.

In either case, you are making it a pain in the ass for them to have these digital bar codes. Tie up the checkouts. Give the employees more busywork that the company has to pay them to do. Hurt their bottom line having to toss the pint of ice cream you carried around in your cart for 20 minutes before giving it back to the cashier.