!Peace Dividend
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by Anna @ October 2022
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Chapter 2: Mass
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It's weird being in a place you're so well-known
when it seems half the world's still afoot, refugee
from floods, droughts, serial heatwaves, bad coun-
tries, all searching for somewhere that feels
normal. But normalcy judged by what's ordinary in
flicks and audiodramas is normalcy misjudged. The
world's not like that. Her monotown is liveable. It
doesn't have to be perfect.
Agnes's neighbor worked in one of the refugee re-
ceiving centers. She sometimes came by for tea to
puzzle out the stories and lives now intersecting
with this town. Families from central Europe, east
Africa, southwest Asia, each with their own story.
Agnes banked the fire down low. The weight on the
cooker rattled gently, containing fifteen pounds
per square inch of steam. She filled her teacup and
opened her book. It would be ten minutes til she
could let the fire go out.
How does the song go? she mused. When you cut me do
I not bleed? Agnes hummed it while she packed her
dish in a warmer, put on her boots and jacket, and
walked to Mass. She loved the ikons on the screen,
incense and familiarity, the mystery. Father
Sofrony consecrated the host, she kneeled and acc-
epted it, thanks be to God and amen.
The dishes were all laid out. She laid hers too.
People who were at Mass and people who weren't
mingled, some intimately, some more awkwardly. She
saw Misty who'd been injured at the concrete plant
when a hopper dumped its load before she'd backed
up from inspecting it. Her legs had obviously been
crushed. Agnes thought she'd heard Misty also
broke ribs and had inhalation injuries.
How are you recovering? Agnes asked.
About as well as you'd expect, said Misty. Some
people are mad at the hospital, said my leg
shouldn't have gotten infected after the surgery.
