Softly It Goes [Ems Blitz]

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Morning came and I was up, face washed and beard trimmed, coffee on and drank, Yani changed and toddled off to her aunts, a brief quarrel over whether Emmanuel or Sofia needed to clean the barns versus start aerating the fields, and a bite of bread and butter before being out the door. Red still claimed the sky and clouds were streaked in orange and yellow hues. The district hummed and came alive, even in the dead of winter, good folk ready to work ten hours across the fields before the sun escaped from the horizon.

I gave a wave to folks that passed, and stopped when a few asked about what I planned to do about the irrigation systems (better metal from the upper districts, my friend) before ambling my way toward the town center. I’d sent a letter to Ikaia after the debate as the election drew near. Momentum was building across the different factions, and more than anything, I wanted to make sure all of us agreed to peace and harmony no matter the result.

I chose the diner on the corner of the town square, one that connected to the general store. That way folks could see us talking, and know that there was no animosity toward one another. Folks had a way of inventing their own narratives in the election, taking sides, and being tribal. It was all exhausting, and while I preferred the comfort of my own family’s bubble, knew it was a political reality (not everyone is going to like you, Emma had reminded me).

I order a cup of coffee and take a long sip, and breathe in the life. I turn to watch the door, and get up to stand seeing Ikaia.

“Hola, amigo. Welcome!” I beam. “Glad you could make it. I trust you’re well?”