{"id":2391,"date":"2022-06-18T14:55:03","date_gmt":"2022-06-18T21:55:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2391"},"modified":"2022-06-18T14:55:03","modified_gmt":"2022-06-18T21:55:03","slug":"we-lived-lifetimes","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2022\/06\/18\/we-lived-lifetimes\/","title":{"rendered":"We Lived Lifetimes"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p class=\"has-small-font-size\"><em>prompt: Write about somebody breaking a cycle.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-small-font-size\">available at <a href=\"https:\/\/blog.reedsy.com\/short-story\/k6lu9o\/\">Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mark looked at his locker with a sigh of resignation. He toweled off his close-cropped blonde hair, the slight paunch around his middle, his pasty legs and his perpetually sunburnt arms. \u201cThirty-three,\u201d he muttered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d Luis was already donning his uniform. He was short and sturdy; sun-darkened, swarthy skin, black hair, large nose and bright brown eyes gave away his Mayan heritage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cOh, just talking to myself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNot a problem, until you start answering back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mark dressed in his uniform and paused, bulletproof vest in his hands. \u201cYou like science fiction stuff, right? I have a weird hypothetical for you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cHit me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cLet\u2019s say you\u2019re trapped in a loop. Like, you keep coming back to the same moment, over and over. How do you get out of it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cLike Groundhog Day?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cKind of, except it doesn\u2019t reset every day, just every time you die.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cSeems like staying alive would do the trick, then.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cEven if it\u2019s months\u2026or years, later, and you still come back?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNow we\u2019re getting tricky.\u201d Luis tugged at his vest. \u201cYou writing a book? That\u2019s cool. I\u2019ll help you figure it out. Now let\u2019s get out of here before we\u2019re late.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mark put on his vest and tightened the straps before strapping on his belt and holster. \u201cYeah, you caught me, thinking about a book.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Luis was getting antsy, looking at his watch. Mark closed and locked his locker. \u201cRelax, Luis. Cap\u2019s going to be a few minutes late.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhat makes you think that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cTell you what,\u201d he said, \u201cbet you ten bucks Cap is late, and has Stephanie\u2019s lip gloss on her neck.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cLate, <em>and<\/em> the coffee-girl\u2019s lipstick? That\u2019s an easy ten; you\u2019re on. Now let\u2019s go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>They walked into the briefing room, the only places left to sit front and center. There they waited. Mark watched the clock. At four minutes after the hour, he sat up straight and watched the second hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Nineteen seconds later the captain entered. Even with her rich, red-brown skin, the blush of her cheeks was evident. On the left side of her neck was a smear of bright pink lip gloss, threatening to stain the white collar just below it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>After getting their assignments, they stopped by the coffee cart on their way to the garage. Stephanie danced behind the cart, her perfectly coiffed blonde hair with blue stripes, hot pink lips, and overly made eyes, the epitome of Instagram culture. \u201cYour usual today, guys?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYeah,\u201d Luis said. \u201cYou look pretty happy today.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s Junebug\u2019s birthday. Did you get her a card?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cSo, you\u2019re past first-name basis and on to nicknames, I see,\u201d Mark said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cOh, stop. I\u2019m allowed to call her whatever I want.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cIsn\u2019t she\u2026a little\u2026um\u2026,\u201d Luis hesitated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Stephanie put her hands on her hips and gave an exaggerated scowl. \u201cShe\u2019s <em>not<\/em> old. Twelve years isn\u2019t that big of a deal. Besides, we love each other and don\u2019t care what <em>you<\/em> think.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mark grinned. \u201cSo, you\u2019re official now?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYep! Since yesterday!\u201d Stephanie continued to dance as she set their coffees down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cGood for you, Steph.\u201d Mark took his coffee and nudged Luis. \u201cLet\u2019s get at it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>As they pulled out of the garage to the exit, Mark said, \u201cHead out to West Hawthorne first; start from that end.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cGut feeling.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>They cruised the West Hawthorne district, moving from the outside of their beat toward to the center. Less than a minute after they reported 10-41, the radio cracked to life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cAll units in the Hawthorne district, reported man with a gun at 10<sup>th<\/sup> and Evans QuickMart.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cSwing left, that\u2019s one block south.\u201d Mark grabbed the mic. \u201c1-David-9 responding, on scene. 10-52 for a code 5150.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhy the fuck are you calling for\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cTrust me.\u201d As soon as the car stopped in front of the convenience store, Mark jumped out and walked toward the small figure, covered in several layers of clothes, waving a black, pistol-like thing around. As he approached, he kept himself between the figure and the other officers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cStay back! I\u2019ll shoot you!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cSelina,\u201d Mark said, walking toward the woman, \u201cit doesn\u2019t work out the way you want.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She stopped. \u201cHow do you know my name?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWe\u2019ve been here before,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWait, I know you! You held my hand while I died. Right here!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s right. And we\u2019ve been here a bunch of times.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She held it out to him; a crudely carved wooden pistol painted black. \u201cWhy does this keep happening? I just want to die!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI know, Selina. Here, sit with me while we wait for the ambulance.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>After the ambulance had carried her off, Luis looked at Mark. \u201cWait, you knew about Cap, you pulled us out here first, you knew her name, and you knew she was 5150 before we got here. That loop you\u2019re talking about\u2026it\u2019s real?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYeah. Sergeant Kerry wins the football pool tonight, with the nine-eight square, sorry. Cap and Steph get married next year, and when Cap retires they move to Maine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cShit, maybe you should memorize the horse races, take the day off and win big at the track.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cBeen there, done that. This isn\u2019t the first time you\u2019ve suggested it, either.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWell, what next?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cDo you want to sit around and watch SWAT grab a bank robber when he steps out with an undercover as a hostage, give a reckless driving ticket to a douche in a brand new 400,000-dollar Ferrari, pick up a peeping Tom, or get a free pizza?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhat happens when you don\u2019t ticket the Ferrari?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cHe makes it another block and totals it. Minor injuries, no property damage beyond his fresh-off-the-lot ride.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cAnd the peeping Tom?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cKerry and Knowles pick her up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cHer, huh?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mark nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cFuck it, let\u2019s get free pizza.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cHead over to Davino\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cZigzagging across the district, eh? Let\u2019s do it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>They pulled up to the restaurant and Mark said, \u201cLet\u2019s head inside. You\u2019ll know what to do.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>They walked in and saw a heated exchange between two men. Luis stepped between them. \u201cIs there a problem here, gentlemen?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cUh\u2026no, no problem,\u201d one of them said, \u201cI\u2019m leaving.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The other waited until he was out the door. \u201cThanks, officers. My neighbor. He\u2019s been causing trouble all week. Today he\u2019s upset because he thinks my dog shit on his lawn. I don\u2019t have a dog.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Luis chuckled, shook his head, and held out a contact card. \u201cIf he keeps harassing you, don\u2019t be afraid to call the non-emergency number.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He took the card. \u201cI appreciate it. Hey, since he left his order here, you guys can have it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cDid he pay for it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNo, but it\u2019s on the house. I\u2019d just have to throw it out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI appreciate it,\u201d Luis said. \u201cMind if we pay for a couple bottles of water to take with us?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNot at all. Dollar a bottle.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Luis laid a five on the counter while Mark grabbed two bottles. \u201cKeep the change. We\u2019ll be back to check on you Monday.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The weeks continued with Luis and Mark seeming to be in the right place at the right time more often than not. Luis read voraciously, ripping through his collection of pulp searching for any hint at a way out. Once that was exhausted, he turned to the used bookstore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mark made him provide a list of all the novels, shorts, and articles he\u2019d read, and worked every night to commit it to memory. At each new loop, he\u2019d write out the ever-expanding list on the ride to the West Hawthorne district. Once Luis was sufficiently convinced, again, he\u2019d hand over the list to avoid duplicating efforts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-center\">#<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mark\u2019s phone rang, early on a Saturday morning. \u201cMark Dover.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cMark, it\u2019s Luis. I thought of something.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019ve you got?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cIn any of your\u2026things\u2026did you and the crazy lady both die?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mark grunted. \u201cIn a bunch of them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cAt the same time?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNo, never at the same time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI think you should go talk to her. She\u2019s still on psych hold until tomorrow, but she\u2019s asking to see you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cHow would you know that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI went to check on her. She knows about your\u2026thing. The doctors, of course, think she\u2019s nuts, and want to commit her permanently.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ve never visited her in the past. In fact, I don\u2019t think you have either. What gave you that idea?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cAn anonymous short story in an old magazine. I wanted to talk to her before I decided whether to bring it up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mark shrugged. \u201cIt\u2019s something at least.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>As the original responding officer, Mark had no trouble getting in to see Selina. Cleaned of the grime of the streets and freed from the multiple layers of loose clothes, she looked fragile and haunted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She looked up when he entered. \u201cIt\u2019s you. That\u2019s new, too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhat else is new, Selina?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYour partner visited. Talking about some magazine article.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ve been having him research all his sci-fi. Every loop, I give him a list of the ones he\u2019s already checked.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI can\u2019t do this anymore,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mark sat next to her on the bed and took her hand in his. \u201cI understand.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ve died so many times,\u201d she said, \u201cand others I\u2019m doing something, then\u2026I\u2019m back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI <em>always<\/em> die. I\u2019ve made it as far as eighty-seven a couple times. Then I end up right back in front of my locker, yesterday morning. You say you don\u2019t always die?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cMost times. Doesn\u2019t matter. I end up in front of the QuickMart, high on I don\u2019t know what.\u201d She sniffled and wiped at the tears that threatened to spill.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cLuis, my partner, mentioned that maybe we\u2019re supposed to die at the same time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNo,\u201d she said, shaking her head vehemently. \u201cYou\u2019re young, you\u2019ve got a career ahead of you. I\u2019ve just got\u2026the streets.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cEvery time? And come on, you\u2019re younger than me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI cleaned up a few times, had a job, an apartment, all that shit. But it never lasts more than a couple years.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWell, I\u2019ve retired from the force four times, quit and moved to a cabin in the woods twice, died in the line of duty too many times, and even choked to death on a candy bar once.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Selina chuckled through her tears. \u201cWhoops.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ve been through the \u2018golden years,\u2019\u201d Mark said, \u201cand they aren\u2019t. Not after a lifetime of physically abusing my body. The job\u2019s hard on the joints, and the skin cancer sucks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t think it\u2019s about dying,\u201d Selena said. \u201cI think we\u2019re supposed to help each other, like right when we show back up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThere\u2019s still an old payphone at the QuickMart, right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mark wrote out a sentence and his number and handed it to her. \u201cAs long as you are alive, repeat this to yourself at least once a day. I find that makes it easier to remember things the next time around.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-center\">#<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mark looked at his locker with a sigh of resignation. He toweled off his close-cropped blonde hair, the slight paunch around his middle, his pasty legs and his perpetually sunburnt arms. \u201cForty-two,\u201d he muttered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Luis started to say something when Mark\u2019s phone buzzed with an unknown number, and he snatched it up. \u201cMark Dover.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s Selena, come pick me up at the QuickMart. Loop start, something\u2026I can\u2019t think\u2026my head\u2019s all fuzzy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cOn my way.\u201d Mark threw on his work-out clothes. \u201cWest Hawthorne QuickMart, 10<sup>th<\/sup> and Evans,\u201d he said, and rushed past a dumbfounded Luis to the parking lot. He made it to the QuickMart while his shift was still getting their assignments.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>There she was: hair greasy and plastered down, layers of shabby clothes hiding her tiny frame, a black object in her hand. Mark ran from his car to her. \u201cSelina, I\u2019m here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She shook. \u201cI don\u2019t remember what I took, but I remember the note. I said it out loud three times every night for the whole time I was in the hospital, until I died.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cGood job, Selina. I knew you could do it.\u201d Mark led her toward his car. \u201cHow about we get you something to eat, some clean clothes, a bath, and a haircut. Would you like that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She nodded and handed him the crude pistol carving. \u201cWhy do I keep dying and living all over again?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ve been asking myself the same question.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cBut this is new,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYes, this is new.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Sirens announced the arrival of a squad car. It skidded to a stop and the officers got into firing positions. Selina screamed and a jolt of icy fear ran up Mark\u2019s spine. He stepped between her and the squad car, hands raised.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cDrop the weapon and step away from the bum!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Another squad car barreled in, driven by Luis. He barely had time to shout, \u201cWait!\u201d before a shot was fired.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mark felt a hot pain in his chest, and everything below that went numb as he collapsed to the ground. Selina dropped beside him, holding his hand. It was just like the first time, but the roles were reversed. \u201cNo, Mark. No! You can\u2019t\u2026not yet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI think I have to,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Luis was calling \u201cofficer down\u201d on the radio as he ran to Mark\u2019s side. \u201cHang in there, buddy, you\u2019ll be all right.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mark felt the blood pooling in his right lung, but nothing below that. \u201cI doubt it. I\u2019ve lived enough lifetimes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Selina sobbed, still holding his hand, her tears making streaks down her dirty face. \u201cI can\u2019t do this again,\u201d she said. \u201cWhat if I forget?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The morning light began to fade, and Mark felt it to his bones. \u201cThere won\u2019t be another time, Selina. I can feel it; you\u2019re free now. Promise me you\u2019ll take care of Luis? He needs a lot of help.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-center\">#<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Selina was in front of the QuickMart again, this time by choice. She turned the five year-coin over in her fingers before putting it away in her pocket. She laid the bundle of flowers on the bench outside the store and ran her fingers over the plaque. \u201cIn Memory: Marcus Brian Dover \u2014 Officer and Friend.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>A fresh cup of coffee in hand, she began to walk the neighborhood, passing out flyers for the shelter and counseling center. Her job there allowed her to help others in the same position she\u2019d been in so many times.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>A familiar figure walked toward her, and she waved. He approached with a cup of coffee from the QuickMart like the one in her hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cAlready been by the bench, I see,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYeah,\u201d Luis said. \u201cI see you beat me there this year.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She looked him over. \u201cYou finally got your sergeant stripes. Is that why you haven\u2019t been by the shelter in a while?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYeah,\u201d he said, \u201cbeen on night shift, just got off. Who knew that more pay meant more work, too?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cSpeaking of work,\u201d she said, handing him a stack of fliers, \u201clet\u2019s head over to the homeless camp in the empty lot on Oliver and 14<sup>th<\/sup>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou only knew Mark for a few minutes,\u201d he said. \u201cWhat was it that got you so determined to get clean?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Selina smiled. \u201cHe held my hand while I died, I held his while he died. We lived lifetimes in that moment.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou know you\u2019re weird, right? I still think you\u2019re all right, just\u2026weird.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Selina laughed. \u201cCome on. Let\u2019s get to the encampment before they all head out to score.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>prompt: Write about somebody breaking a cycle. available at Reedsy Mark looked at his locker with a sigh of resignation. He toweled off his close-cropped blonde hair, the slight paunch around his middle, his pasty &hellip;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[210,228,209],"class_list":["post-2391","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-fiction","tag-science-fiction","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pxT7i-Cz","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2391","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2391"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2391\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2393,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2391\/revisions\/2393"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2391"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2391"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2391"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}