During breafast, unsupervised, maxwell yumm found a misplaced bottle of ibuprofen in the bread box, beneath rice cakes
During breakfast, unsupervised, Maxwell Yumm found a misplaced bottle of Ibuprofen in
the breadbox, beneath rice cakes. The seal had been broken, Maxwell gathered, by
impatient hands, and he pictured his father or mother dropping the bottle to draw a glass
of water. After that, who could say what had happened? The headache's pain fogged his
father's memory bank? His mother was hiding the pills from his father? In a similar way, it
seemed to Maxwell, babies were born: an initial action followed by the thick, sometimes
two or twenty years long, stupor of ecstatic discharge. The theory was clean, and
desultory. Maxwell lost it among battle plans for pinball as he moped to the bathroom.
Once there, squatting, he took a sudden liking for his socks, which combined a
peanut butter orange and Welch's grape jelly stripe around the squashed lump of calf.
Maxwell rolled the sock evenly to his ankle to look at his pressed skin. He remembered a
dream about lightning bolts freezing in the sky for him to climb. At the top, above the
cloud-line, he found all sixteen of the baseball cards that had dodged him in his four years
of collecting. They were alive, and throwing a ball around, made of fire. "You'll burn!"
Maxwell shouted, and woke up. He emptied the bottle of ibuprofen into his palm, pushed
the tablets into his exposed calf, and rolled up his sock. When his business was over, he
opened the medicine cabinet, removed a bottle of Anacin, and transferred half the tablets
to the empty bottle from the kitchen. He put both battles back, closed the medicine
cabinet, stuck his tongue out at his reflection, and headed to his parent's bedroom.
Maxwell's parents worked demanding jobs in the television industry. In the Yumm
house, the remote control substituted for all manner of child-rearing paraphernalia, from
pacifier to playpen. A steady supply of batteries could be found in an ornamental box on
every TV, and two more in the refrigerator. The rooms were set up to facilitate the particle
flow of each remote control. Obstructions such as tables and plants were stored behind
couches and beanbags. Maxwell's younger sister's crib sat near the window. Its mobile
of storks hung six feet above the girl for a clear link to the tube. At intervals, Maxwell
marveled at his sister's belly button, having warmed to the thought that her umbilical cord
had also been remote. He tickled her in the space of it and she stretched her hands
Wedge Yumm came into the world during the historical equivalent of a break for
commercials. In the lull between the Gulf War and its negligible effects upon the 1992
presidential election, she thrust forward her head and screamed something akin to static.
In the next days, Maxwell watched her through thick hospital glass, from a distance of
several feet. He wished he could turn up the sound. At times, the picture seemed too
green or lacked contrast. "My sister is a cipher," he complained. "She never even
moves." Then the family took her home and Maxwell stationed himself by her crib. He
took great satisfaction in watching her work at her bottle, which squeaked between her
lips. At first, her senseless attachment to a household remote control bugged him. He
quickly got over the feeling. In obedience to their oldest morning ritual, Maxwell removed
In the elevator, Wedge drooled on Maxwell's shoulder. He carried her through the
building's revolving door and out to the bus stop. When the M-30 came, he climbed
aboard and flatly denied the driver's joke to accept the baby as a fare. An old woman cast
expressive eyes at him, as if delighted by any reminder of human origins. Maxwell sat in a
seat reserved for the handicapped and coughed twice. "You should take something for
that," said the old woman. "I have," Maxwell said, and squeezed his sister.
The bus stopped at 72nd and Central Park South and Maxwell stepped off holding
Wedge in pretend-flight. Reversed, her bib rested on her back like a cape made of
tablecloth. Maxwell explained to her as they traveled the street that she was flying, and
should enjoy it. He raised and lowered her in response to urban turbulence and a mild
tingling in his arms, which he wanted to keep moving.
Ácido alfa lipoico (AAL) El “Antioxidante Universal” Por: Dr. Alejandro Sánchez Almanza El ácido alfa lipoico es una molécula pequeña compuesta de una cadena de ocho átomos de carbono y un radical disulfuro colocado en su parte final, actúa como un cofactor en diversas reacciones orgánicas favoreciendo que las células incrementen su producción de energía y se fac
Re a c t iv it y P e rs o n a l P ro t e c t io n Material Safety Data Sheet Sulfuric acid MSDS Section 1: Chemical Product and Company Identification Product Name: Sulfuric acid Contact Information: Catalog Codes: SLS2539, SLS1741, SLS3166, SLS2371, Sciencelab.com, Inc. CAS#: 7664-93-9 US Sales: 1-800-901-7247 RTECS: WS5600000 International Sales: 1-281-441-