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Post by Rolphe Jackson on Sept 11, 2010 22:35:19 GMT -5
Work. Day after day. Week after week. Month after month. Year after year. Every day, Rolphe got up at daybreak slid into his work-provided heavy-duty pants, and thick jacket, and grabbed a small bowl of mush that had been made from the tesserae he was able to sign-up for. It tasted disgusting, but nothing he was ever able to eat was anything but. He nodded and muttered a stiff, impersonal greeting to his brother, sister, and mother, who were all also up at the same time. They ate in silence. Even though Rolphe loved his family, communication among them didn't always occur. Finishing up their mush, Rolphe and Trandon headed towards the cotton and wheat fields, while Fae and their mother headed towards the orchard. It was the same deal every day, and their routine rarely changed. Arriving promptly at seven in the morning at the field, Rolphe and Trandon were always there exactly on time. Praise was non-existent, though, so their only "reward" was a less severe look from the Peacekeepers that rigidly maintained order around District 11. It wasn't much, but being not-disliked by them was much better than the alternative.
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