09/06/23 08:28

I made it.  I made it through the wilderness.  I made it across the security bridge that passes over the unrelenting highway.  Along the street with the closed shops and graffiti-strewn barriers.  I found my source of refreshment and my shade out of the unforgiving heatwave.  I am outside of the walled city and in a Portuguese sanctuary, I feel safer.  I have no choice now, I have to find food to eat for so far, nothing has passed my lips of any nutritional value today.  I find solace in a cup of hot water and a pastry.  Before venturing back out, out into the now changeable weather, I shall have to drink a juice of some sort to gain the vitamins I need to ensure my safe return.  On my way here, through the open fields, I found a local magazine, its language still foreign to me.  This may be my only hope to blend in with the locals, should the need arise.

I’m joined in this establishment by a much older gentleman, adorned with a hat.  The type of hat very much suited not only to his attire but to the scorching heat that still remains outside.  The type of hat that I myself failed to bring with me on my own journey.  A local lady of similar age has just arrived.  Her matriarchal voice booming across the floor, many decibels higher than both the radio and the traffic passing by this open-fronted refuge.  She is well known in these parts.  The people working here all greet her as she takes a seat.  She is used to this region outside of the city.  Her many years must’ve gained her a reputation.  The younger population come and go on their journeys through life.  She is given toast to accompany her coffee as another new face is brought to my attention.  He’s walking up the stairs beside me with a tray of produce, prepared to sell to the locals of the area, trying to provide a profit in this ever increasingly difficult financial economic situation we are all facing.  The unified global governments are getting greedier and more selfish by the day.  The citizens of major towns feel it worse.  Yet those living outside the peripherals have the real struggles, as supplies are expensive and demand is high; prices don’t allow for either to be satiated.  Somehow, we get by, but the tensions are rising.  So much is said, unreported.  What we do hear are the oppressors telling us lies, covering up scandals and still vying for our votes.  When republics are built, the options to remove and replace them become limited.  More restrictions are required, resulting in resistance.  There will come a day.  And when that day comes, I’ll be ready.  I’ll be nearby to tell the story of how it happened.  For it won’t be long.