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Madison Scott-Clary 2021-08-26 07:45:10 -07:00
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writing/post-self/toledot/secession/phys/Yared/001.html
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</header>
<article class="content">
<h1 id="yared-zerezghi-2125">Yared Zerezghi &mdash; 2125</h1>
<p>Although Yared Zerezghi was treated with the deference that was afforded to those who had attained such honors as he had, he was also regarded with the wary eyes due to anyone who might be considered hero and villain both.</p>
<p>Although Yared Zerezghi was treated with the deference that was afforded to those who had attained such feats as he had, he was also regarded with the wary eyes due to anyone who might be considered hero and villain both.</p>
<p>At least, he realized, until he had made it to the airport. No one wanted to be there. No one wanted to sit through that liminal process. Everyone wanted to be where they were going, not sitting in uncomfortable chairs surrounded by people they were studiously trying to ignore.</p>
<p>The flights to Yakutsk was dull, but it was that singular type of dullness that allows anxiety to build and grow. He stared out the windows at first, watching the cities and towns that built up around the transit hubs, and then, when all was replaced with desert or windswept grass or bare mountains or burnt husks of forests, he would stare instead at the pages of his book. He could not get the symbols on the pages to line up into words and sentences, but it was better than looking out at the world he was leaving.</p>
<p>The last flight to Yakutsk was dull, but it was that singular type of dullness that allows anxiety to build and grow. He stared out the windows at first, watching the cities and towns that built up around the transit hubs, and then, when all was replaced with desert or windswept grass or bare mountains or burnt husks of forests, he would stare instead at the pages of his book. He could not get the symbols on the pages to line up into words and sentences, but it was better than looking out at the world he was leaving.</p>
<p>The book remained unread when he finally landed in Yakutsk and, as he was about to pack it into the small plastic bag that was his only luggage, he thought better of it and shrugged, handing it to the passenger next to him.</p>
<p>&ldquo;Want a book?&rdquo;</p>
<p>She frowned. &ldquo;Are you&hellip;just giving me your book?&rdquo;</p>