Budsday, 07 Senescence

Earned 0/ Spent 10

Savings 16,602

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When there is a storm in Kernel, it comes with a great pressure that exerts itself upon the township.

It always comes from the far side, the place where the new union sits.  It arrives with shades of grey that literally roll over each other in the sky, thunderheads like new continents surging through the realm of the gods.

Spatters of rain come at us from high above.  The jungle loves this weather.  A storm near Kernel only feeds the verdant wilderness that surrounds it.  As it darkens, even so early in the morning, I peer into the shadow between the massive trees and picture the changes that go on there: roots surging with vigour through the moistening earth; leaves outstretching to catch the rare waters that trickle through the canopy.  Petals of yellow and red swell vividly.  The Earthen Crustaceans, of legends still too recent to forget about, are maybe stirring in their burrows.  I both fear and anticipate the day when those colossi awaken.  The relief that their mythical destruction will bring.  When the time comes, I would hope to be with those of the Jade Reefs who claim the Earthen Crustaceans as gods – and devils.

The pressure rolls in.  Couriers wouldn’t work on days like this.  It’s too easy for a parcel to get drowned and ruined in the downpour.  And even easier to get paid and lose that packet of seeds to the Green Shower and find yourself in a new garden, deified by seedless, as the powerful rain creates life from your life savings.

As it happens, I had a day free from work to return to the tree where I used to live.  There, the two domesticated xylem still roam like miniature walking trees.  I imagine them staring out of the windows at the rain, vaguely confused by the weather but appreciating it in some primal way, a blood memory from the times when they used to be wild and free.  The other tenants are out today – I’ve checked.  It will be empty.  I feel a responsibility to return to it and tidy up the place for the retiree, reorganising the mess of the student who lives with her, and picking up after the xylem.  It will be a long few hours, but it will distract me from the bombardment of Kernel and the shadows that lurk in the jungle.

I wonder how long I will stay in Kernel.  Of course, I want to be with Foist in Metrodon, but some days this seems like a dream.  Cut off by the weather and the new union: seen through veils of fancy.  Metrodon is a costly dream in more ways that one.  Should I concentrate on Kernel and the new PM Union, or should I surge towards the envisioned happiness that Metrodon must bring – a spiritual healing?