Hindsight Hope
May 14, 2022
Earlmond had been forging forward for so long, planting and watering and nurturing and waiting, that the hard work felt routine most days. Most days he expected the sun to be unbearable, the refreshment to be scarce, and for the results to be out of his own hands. He could handle the routine; his beautiful wife and wonderful children were his visions of success. If they were well; if Lala rushed to make him comfortabe before he could shut the door behind him, if Cove and Milan giggled and straddled his calfs, riding his legs to his favorie chair, then tomorrow was already bright. Most days were difficult, but the end of each shift gave Earlmond something to look forward to. Dropping his tools in the shed, removing as much grime as he could, and flipping the lights before heading home, he had tomorrow's routine already in mind, and could do it with grit. Most days.
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