Reeve Tuesti (
plate_builder) wrote in
revivalproject2024-04-17 06:41 pm
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Your Tax Dollars At Work
WHO: Reeve Tuesti, Open
WHERE: Temba
WHAT: Road Work
WHEN: All of April
WARNINGS: N/A
For those who hate the noise of roadwork, well, they will have Reeve's pity and apology later. For now there is work to be done. And the form of that work involves a very large machine that makes a bit too much noise and hot scents. There is nothing to be done for that part.
Though anyone who wants to complain can probably talk to the man and cat standing beside it, wearing hard hats (where did Reeve get one in Mini's size), discussing plans and a map.
Or perhaps one might find them when the machine is still and quieter, where Reeve stands securely on the edge of one of the holes in the road, lowering a rope into it at a slow pace. Clearly he's intent on the work, playing out the line with a constant level of caution.
And then there's the end of the day, as the sun is growing low, and Reeve is shutting down the machine while going about and checking material levels in it. Behind it a new stretch of road cures. Every now and then Reeve looks over toward it with clear pride. Another sign of Temba being restored to something like order. It's what he's here for.
WHERE: Temba
WHAT: Road Work
WHEN: All of April
WARNINGS: N/A
For those who hate the noise of roadwork, well, they will have Reeve's pity and apology later. For now there is work to be done. And the form of that work involves a very large machine that makes a bit too much noise and hot scents. There is nothing to be done for that part.
Though anyone who wants to complain can probably talk to the man and cat standing beside it, wearing hard hats (where did Reeve get one in Mini's size), discussing plans and a map.
Or perhaps one might find them when the machine is still and quieter, where Reeve stands securely on the edge of one of the holes in the road, lowering a rope into it at a slow pace. Clearly he's intent on the work, playing out the line with a constant level of caution.
And then there's the end of the day, as the sun is growing low, and Reeve is shutting down the machine while going about and checking material levels in it. Behind it a new stretch of road cures. Every now and then Reeve looks over toward it with clear pride. Another sign of Temba being restored to something like order. It's what he's here for.
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How interesting to hear from the man. But he is not certain it is the same. Reeve knows he is a borderline addict to caffeine.
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Not that he's read the studies of course.
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"As a farm boy in my past, I really do appreciate those when they show up."
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Ironically, he's allergic to grapes, but he's not going to mention that.
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"That sounds like heaven in some ways."
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"That is fair. Perhaps we shall be content with no wine then."
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"Let's hope they don't," he says.
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Do they listen constantly? Do they take shifts?
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And wasn't that distressing to think about? That they might never have anything properly considered privacy.
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"I think I would rather not have to live a life like that. Though I suppose we are truly like that."
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Nothing he expected.
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