A New World...
fiction
She was washing dishes from breakfast when she heard the knocking.
"Mrs. Olivec! Mrs. Olivec! I've got your delivery!"
She dried her hands and went to answer the front door. "Thanks, Bethune, you could have just left it on the porch you know."
"I know, but I wanted to let you know I included some strawberries. They've started a little early this year and I knew you wouldn't want to miss them."
"Oh, thank you, that's very sweet of you. Since you're here, would you let your mother know that I'm almost finished with her painting? If she wants to come take a look before I complete it she's got about 3 more days. Oh and wait here a second."
Gratiella ducked back inside the house and grabbed a jar of preserves from the kitchen. "I tried my hand at butternut jam this weekend. Oh don't make that face, it's like pumpkin butter, really good on toast. Pass this along to your mother, and make sure you give it a try as well, I want to hear you tell me you were wrong and you actually liked it."
Bethune laughed, "I'll try it, but we'll see if I like it."
"Have you delivered to the Grasions yet?"
"They're next on the list."
"Could I bother you to pass along a jar to them as well?"
"As long as I tell them it was you, not me who wanted them to have it!"
"Deal." Gratiella grabbed another jar of the preserves and handed it off to Bethune. "Thank you so much. I'll see you next week if not sooner."
"Probably sooner, I want to see the painting too!"
Gratiella watched Bethune load the jar of preserves in a bag that must have been the Grasion's order. There were only a few bags left for her deliveries. She imagined when Bethune left the farm the side cart on her motorcycle was probably stuffed to overflow, by the end of her run she was strapping things in to make sure they didn't tip over. And this was a daily occurance. Everyone had their own day of the week they received their share of the harvest. The farms were all doing well, enough to keep the town in fresh seasonal vegetables all year long.
She was very excited that the first strawberries of the season were making their appearance. Though she was always grateful for the heartier squashes and root vegetables of the colder months, she was partial to the sweet fruits and vegetables of spring and summer for sure.
Gratiella put the groceries away and finished up the dishes before heading back to her studio. She wanted to look at the painting in the mid morning light. Sometimes a different angle revealed issues she hadn't seen before. Or areas that she wanted to highlight more. It was a large piece, Anjeela wanted to hang it in the entry to the meeting hall. It showed the town as a patchwork quilt. Each square a family, a farm, a bakery, a book stop, an artist's studio. Each square different, yet all working as part of one design.
The video screen to her left flashed a message letting her know the twins would be a little late getting home this afternoon. They were headed into Freemont to pick up some parts for the water purifier they were installing at the school. They could have sent a drone but she knew that they liked any excuse to see their friends at the mechanic shop. She wasn't sure how she and her husband had given birth to two mechanical geniuses, but they had.
Her youngest was still deciding what he wanted to do. The older girls had always had a gift for drones and electronics and machines of all types. Their son had never felt particularly drawn to one area. He'd spent some time on a few of the farms working crops or taking care of animals. He'd tried his hand at writing and at painting. He'd worked for the bakery and a few of the restaurants. Everyone teaching him a little about what they did as he decided what to do. He still hadn't quite figured it out.
She thought he'd become a teacher. Elementary to middle school where everyone tried out everything. It seemed like he was training himself without even realizing it. But she would wait and see. There was no rush.
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WRITING PROCESS STUFF:
So, it's a challenge piece for me, which probably made it a bit of a challenge for you all too. I write a lot of future pieces, but the future I always envision is one of post apocalyptic survival. Or one where the apocalypse is still in swing. So I thought maybe I'd try some future optimism. A world where everyone eats fresh food, has time to create art, finds an area they want to do work in, there are no worries about money, or pollution, or war, or... You know that future where everyone has enough and everyone works together.
It's hard to write that. It's hard to write a story where everything is great. I kept feeling myself wanted to add killer robots, or a vast wasteland right outside of their borders, or have it all be a simulation in her head and none of it was real. Which is really sad that my comfort zone of imagination is destruction, that it's too much for my brain to imagine a future where it all goes right.
But who knows, maybe it will.
Until then I'll keep trying to imagine it. No killer robots needed.
Or maybe just a few killer robots.