3/11/1934

Fifteenth entry of my limited-time journal, and I have to say it's gone really well. Elly's parents begged us to stay another week or two, but we had to refuse. To be honest, Elly has leave that runs out at a certain point, but I can just stay another month if I really wanted to. I might if I didn't want to fall behind work that much. It's a good thing I'm writing things down; I just enjoy it so much that I can't bear to leave.

There's been entire days where I kind of forgot I was superhuman in the first place. I remember when I met Elly's parents for the first time and stayed for a few weeks, I looked out at the field and went, 'I could clear another few acres and harvest this all in a day.' And as much as that was—and still is—true, and as much as the in-laws would love it if they knew I could do that for them, I don't mind not being able to.

There's just something to it.

Maybe it's just me being a pompous mistress who grew up in a big, rich mansion (Elly's words), but there's something to working with calloused hands and driving tractors that makes it all feel grounded; makes me feel real. Of course, Elly can't help himself to drop by whenever it's crop dusting season, especially since it seems like the old man is getting to old to fly that low.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Mum and Dad are still kicking. Irene's always been a gentler soul than Kenneth, but she's the only person in the world that can put Elly in his place without having to raise a fist.

I love her. She's so nice. She made me rhubarb and apple pie, well she made everyone rhubarb and apple pie but we both knew it was for me. I just shared.

I got thinking about it recently, and I even brought it up to Elliot, the possibility of moving here when we retire. Picturing us with a massive pot of cash made off the back of government contracts and civil servant pay for the better part of thirty-five, forty years, it's pretty easy to consider us just fucking off to somewhere where no one will find us. Small, insignificant, tucked away in the middle of the woods. I can really see myself enjoying that.

Sure I'd be visiting Marie, if she is still alive by then. I'd ask her to come with us, but she loves the city too much to ever leave. She's able-bodied, and I don't ever see that changing. It'd be nice though, to swap places for a bit and have me being the one visiting family if it turns out that way. But mainly it's just being here, back in Sidos. No matter how much Excala feels like home nowadays, there's always a part of me that wants to give this country a second chance.

The city is still healing, and there's still quite a few protests against then new laws being put in place, but things are changing. I don't know what that'll mean for the country, but I want to be there to watch it change for the better, you know? The me from six years ago put her life on the line to see this country change, no matter how foolish that ended up being. I don't want to deal a disservice to her.