Day Two Hundred Seventeen Late Morning #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lyle writes:

At times weakness weighs me down. But it passes.

Switching from nocturnal to diurnal, I toured around the whole oasis this morning just to be sure I hadn’t missed anything. I hadn’t.

I am content with my new “home.”

Waiting on the Spirit for direction.

Day One Hundred Ninety Three Morning #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lyle writes:

Grazie is being held at her post in the vineyard. And we can’t do anything about it.

She had left for it at the normal hour this morning. One of the patrolling drones pealed off and followed her. That seemed normal too, until Moglen came into the camp to claim his daughter Terresta.

Regret seized me. I should have insisted a change in Grazie’s duties to keep her in the camp. But then again she always made herself scarce if ever there were even a hint of her father anywhere near.

I told Moglen we will oppose him however we may.

Day One Hundred Seventy Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Awoke this morning and during my ablutions I discovered I had been bitten by something. Such is life in the outdoors.

On a similar note, we also received a messenger from Moglen.  A different type of pest.

I know – how uncharitable of me. Probably the irritation factor of that bite unsettling my equilibrium.

Lyle was commanded to accompany the messenger back into the city.  He went freely. After I argued with him. That bite again.

I kept busy in Lyle’s absence. I had to change our original plan of trying to find a more direct route down to the desert. Instead I stood with Grazie and selected seed for planting.

In times like these, I really miss my walled courtyard.

Day One Hundred Seventy Six #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

On the heels of the morning drone fly over, we had another visitor from the city. Moglen.

Along with him came the demand that we hand over Flowers to them.

I spoke up and told Moglen that Flowers has been missing for days. Moglen begged to differ, stating that the fugitive had been spotted by their drone.

No one knew what to say to that. And we told him so.

Moglen wasn’t happy with our answer and even less so when Lyle asked if he could speak to Flowers if and when he was found.

Moglen left after that. But with a parting shot. We no longer will be allowed free movement within the city. And hinted at stricter measures.

Day One Hundred Thirty Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lights shone out of the west end last night.  Not the light from fire, candle, or oil lamp, but the bright glow powered by electricity.

It’s a clear message. Stan has delivered on his promise to the west end leaders. Or would it be more correct to say that the world government has exerted its power?

Anyway, it does not extend here. The electrical circuits for the east end have not been connected. Already this morning, Lyle has heard complaints through the leaders from their people, wondering why they have not been included.

Sore trials lay ahead. Camping outside the walls for the harvest is looking more preferable. Yet Lyle would still like to hear from Kip and Moglen first.

Day One Hundred Twenty Three #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lyle made it back this morning. He’d been detained at the order of someone very high up.  I shared my knowledge with him, and the details lined up with what he had learned. We both agreed that this shadowy figure is most likely Stan.

They are all fearful of talking about him.

I turned to Kip and described our companion from the mountain. Kip went wide eyed and nodded with resignation.

Kip explained that this young man with a beard left a few weeks ago and had just recently returned. Now more emphatic that they line up with his orders as dictated from the world authority, as they have quelled wars and lent succor to disaster areas.

Is it time?

Day One Hundred Nineteen #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

A little late rising this morning. We sorted our day out quickly. I returned to the fields and took the widow’s son with me. Lyle left to attempt the west end again, this time via the fifth avenue entrance.

Though overcast at first, the sun burned through before lunch break. The aroma of the earth and growing things lifted our spirits.

The widow’s son joined the crew with which he will be working for the rest of the season. Their foreman pointed out the vast fields to the west of us, all worked by people from the west end. Their numbers appear much lower than ours.

Lyle was already home upon our return. He had shocking news – he sighted Stan.

Day One Hundred Six #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lyle was first up to the gatehouse this morning. He was a good long while talking there, so our hopes were lifted with each passing minute. But at the last our expectations were dashed.

Lyle trudged back down the hill to rejoin us. He spoke to the widow first, telling her that all is not lost, and then gathered us all together and led us away from that spot.

He explained that we have to apply at another gate. And before we could protest, he added that we are promised that we will be all admitted.

He grinned at me and insisted it’s still not the way things should be.

After a long hike we arrived at another staging area.

Day One Hundred Five #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

   Our hopes were raised this morning when the first six petitioners were admitted. When told “yes,” they appeared before the gate and waved the rest of their party forward.

However the next five were turned away. This set me thinking that there may be a daily quota in effect. Lyle must have read my thoughts for he spoke the idea out loud. The widow admitted that this idea had never occurred to her.

   But then as people continued to answer the call up to the gate, I thought why not just close down for the day.

   Still we kept advancing behind people who went up and back down again. Finally the day ended.  Tomorrow we will be first in line.