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Green



Green
Chapter 1
    From above, it seemed as if Cribon was a sun in itself: just as the one above it – it was clear and buzzing with joy and harvest time had come.
    The lakes were a vibrant blue-green and flooded with little children: abandoning their work for summer fun; not caring for the consequences waiting at home, not a need to care about the future: thinking – how could anything go wrong in such a world? such a simple world?
    When the harvest was almost finished, the annual celebration of pumpkin carving and dressing up as devils had seeped in from the influence of rural areas and had caught on like an epidemic. And as it was on the 31st of October, from that year onward, not a soul required rest.
    Feeling that he could rest until the arrival of spring, Mr Berisford was a changed man. For a short three or four months, he was tolerable and pleasant to be around, and the children needn’t fear him if they were to walk by his fields. He now would willingly tell stories about his time in the war and, unlike many others at the time, he had a moral code to not burden others with his suffering and never informed them of the dangers and disease he had endured, yet still explaining that he would have rather stayed at the farm.
    Mrs Berisford, his wife, was altogether a different person from her husband; she was, if you pardon me for, saying not very bright – not to say it made her at all an unkind person: quite the opposite: her husband always said she is the nicest person he had ever met and this, I assure you, was not in the least an exaggeration.
    Little Elly sometimes came to help out the Berisfords, as they had no children of their own, she often milked the cows and in return, she would get some cookies to take home and perhaps share with her brother Al. Al didn’t live with the rest of the family as their father had driven him out with a hot iron for defending his mother one day; when he was unnaturally drunk (even for him) – not that there was anything natural about drinking anyway: expect in substance of course.
    All the children thus mentioned, and some yet to be, go to the same education centre in the far end of the village: the nearest building to the town, this place was quite newly built and was not in the least like the farmhouses near it and, therefore, it was disliked at first but, as it appeared that it would not soon move away, it had to be accepted.
    On every Monday, some, but not all of the children would unwillingly make their way to the grey building: an ugly rock in grains of gold. They were all taught in one classroom: twenty or thirty at most, yet all hot and ill-tempered at such claustrophobic conditions that were not common to them outside.
    Being as it is evil to criticise such a donation of money and the hard work of a teacher to teach the most ill-informed that the world was not flat but round and there were numbers that could not be counted. So, I shall tell what good had come of it and that is a greater appreciation of the time that they have and that it would be short-lived.
    Such a day as when the last leaves of autumn were falling in the chilling morning of a school day, together, to the school went Elly and her sibling. They passed the estate of the new town doctor: the old one having prematurely passed away after a bombardment of coughing through the ingestion of a cigar: it was thought, or at least the rumour goes, that after a long tiresome day he had thought it wise to have a cigar and snooze. However, his deep trance had been disrupted by knocking causing him to gasp in the weapon – this, if you would believe it actually started an anti-smoking campaign that was surprisingly successful – with the younger years (who did not smoke) – especially in Elly who had attempted to hide her father’s pack but was consequently caught and received a thorough beating for her kindness.

“Once there was a man with great power,
Granting every wish,
He was asked to make a good father,
And he left his place with a swish.”

   Elly worried for the sanity of the new residents and informed her brother so, but he assured her, there was no reason to worry that:
    “A doctor can heal anything – even a broken house”