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She regarded me for a moment, sensing there was more to my distraction. “Is something troubling you?”
I hesitated.
Sharing my concerns might put them on edge as well. “Just reminiscing about the past,” I finally replied.
Elara nodded, understanding more than I’d given away. “The past has a way of catching up with us, doesn’t it? But sometimes, we need to trust in the present, trust in the good people around us, and move forward.”
I took a deep breath.
Her words held weight.
But it wasn’t just about me; it was about Violet, our future, our dreams.
We deserved a chance at happiness.
I nodded in gratitude. “You’re right, Elara. I need to focus on now, on this moment. On our new beginning.”
She patted my arm gently, “Good. Now, you better get back to work. Don’t want you daydreaming the whole day away, especially with your visit to the neighboring farm coming up.”
A chuckle escaped my lips. “You’re right.”
As I returned to work, I let the sun warm my back, the wind tousle my hair, and the dreams of a new future fill my heart.
And yet, the shadow of the past lingered, a subtle reminder that vigilance was a luxury I couldn’t afford to lose.
Bending down, I resumed my work.
* * *
The afternoon sun cast a warm hue over the landscape as Violet and I, along with Marlen, made our way to the neighboring farm.
As we approached, I was taken aback by the similarities between the two farms.
“This land is part of the original settlement,” Marlen explained, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “Built using the same designs, same layouts.”
It was picturesque, a tranquil oasis amidst the vast expanse of the planet.
Rows upon rows of crops stretched out before us, and beyond that, a small forest.
A winding path led us to the heart of the farm, where a quaint farmhouse stood.
The barn, located just a stone’s throw away, appeared to be in good shape.
The fields were tilled, ready for a new harvest.
Even the machinery and tools were left in their respective places, waiting for their next user.
Inside the house, the rooms were spacious and bright.
Sunlight streamed in through large windows, illuminating the dust motes that floated lazily in the air.
An old wood stove sat in the kitchen, a pot still resting on its top from the last meal that was cooked.
“It’s… beautiful,” Violet whispered, her eyes shining with a mix of wonder and hope.
I squeezed her hand, sharing in her joy.
Yet, the lingering doubt about our ability to afford it crept into my mind.
