Day One

Day one.

It is a five kilometre walk from my apartment to Emerson Wall. On the way, I took the time to stop at a bakery to reserve some pastries for tomorrow's breakfast, and catch up with Emily Granite, who owns the place. A motherly woman with a big heart whom I have known for many years. We spoke of the usual things; weather, politics, how each other's lives are playing out. She complained of animals scurrying about on her roof.

"I was thinking they were rats," she said to me. "But they sounded quite large. Of course some breeds do grow to be unusual sizes."

"It is little wonder you have attracted the monstrous little creatures," I said to her. "The smell of your baking is hardly a scent to be ignored. If this continues, I will see if I can't get someone on top of it."

I bid her goodbye and continued my walk. Though the day had started with the threat of rain, the sun eventually prevailed.

When I first entered the gates of Emerson Wall, a young woman asked me of my business. I told her that I was an agent from Moulder & Primbol Industries and wished to speak with the manager. The manager, a portly man sporting a Coal War era British Army jacket and a flamboyant hat, greeted me like an old friend, asking me how my wife was. When I informed him that I had no wife, he gave apologies so sincere that to the un-initiated, it would seem that he was offering his condolences for the loss of a loved one.

Entering the work area, I immediately noticed massive skylights, sunlight pouring through to illuminate the room. The ground beneath my boots was made of stone, closer inspection revealing it to be smooth from the decades of people walking on it. I asked the manager what this workhouse has been used for in times passed. He told of the history of the building, most of which was of no interest to me, but gave me the needed information. 

As luck would have it, this building has been used for smelting before. During the second World War, the War of the Philippines and the Coal War, this factory churned out guns, swords and armour. 

I informed the manager that he would be allowed to keep his current position, the only difference being his employment to M&P. The manager seemed to be content with this, and wished me well.

After submitting a detailed report to my employers, I retired to a pub I frequent. It was most relaxing after all that walking, to sit down in front of a drink and a warm meal. I finished my meal, payed for it, and walked through the door to the street. The next thing I knew, I was on my hand and knees, my hat rolling into a gutter and my glasses nearly falling off of my face.

I looked up to see a tall gentleman (I use that term lightly) hurriedly making his way into the pub. I shouted: "I say, help a man up!" but he payed me no mind. Philistine...

Besides that little spill, I would say it was a most productive day. I am now awaiting a response from M&P. I am confident that they will want to use this space.

❦J.T. Marker