A quote: ‘Emergencies’ have always been the pretext on which the safeguards of individual liberty have been eroded.~~ Friedrich August von Hayek
I’ll start with a story …
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The electricity stopped. But we remembered our great-grands got along just fine on kerosene. We know how to read.
And prepare. Braggarts had told us how we would be treated and, dayum, we believed them.
They came to seize our crops. But there were none. Seize our herds. But they were gone, too.
They soon learned trying to seize people was very expensive.
We have lived generations connected to the land and the land would protect us.
Some nights it is so clear and dark you can see the cities winking out or engulfed in flame.
They should have listened.
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Now, it’s your turn.
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. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license
Navig8r says: Gram and Gramps had moved off the place years ago. In the 60s Uncle Carl still commuted to farm the fields. During harvest, it was our bunkhouse. The antiquity, isolation, the 1940s magazines, the WWII enemy aircraft silhouette chart in the middle of the Wyoming prairie created a powerful mystique for a young history buff. In a corner of the kitchen I found the hidden door. Its size suggested a closet for a very narrow broom. Inside were stairs to a root cellar I had not suspected. The imagination of an adolescent Hardy Boys fan screamed for immediate exploration.
(True story. The house really did look a lot like that.)
Fletch says: There is a house like this on every planet, at every time, in every city – and all are the same house. It’s the key house, the Gateway from everywhere to everywhere. I got lost there for a century one year. I saw the ceMark of Orria. He was a very old bug who had forgotten how to be King. I went to Zyrria. They ride caterpillars and recite bad poetry. I went to Agoss and won’t go back again.
I returned to the house a few years ago and found nothing but an empty old house. So, maybe it’s only magical to an impressionable 10-year-old dreaming impossible things.
Cameron says: The rifle pointed steadily at me. “You shouldn’t be trying to rob people,” the man said conversationally.
“I’m not,” I protested. “I’ve been on the run for three days. I’m just trying to find work and food.” I held up my arm, showing him the scar tissue where I’d cut out the mark of the deplorable.
“They found out who I voted for.”
The man looked at me thoughtfully. “You ever work on a farm, young man?”
“No sir,” I said honestly. “But if you’re willing to teach, I’m wiling to learn.”
“Good answer. Come on in. You start tomorrow.”
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