08-01-2024, 04:02 AM
(This post was last modified: 08-02-2024, 12:02 AM by Connor Kent.)
Coming back to the United States had felt odd. It was still home, of course. And he was an American, with all that meant to him. Of course, the country had changed a lot since he was a kid.
Truth was, after living in Moscow, the richest and most powerful city on earth ruled by the largest empire that had ever existed on earth...well, coming back made him....wistful. Sad. Not for himself. Not really. He'd made peace with his loss, made peace with life.
But he remembered when America had still been the greatest nation on earth. Russia had been grumbling, trying to find its footing after the collapse of the Soviet Union, bumbling from one tin pot dictator with delusions of grandeur to another.
The America of his teens and early 20s had still been vibrant and virile, he remembered. But then, somehow, little by little- disasters here and there, terrible presidents and isolationist policies, along with a paralyzing polarization, it lost its way. Sure, The Ascendancy was a force to be reckoned with. an undeniable one. Only now did people really fimd out the full extent of his power.
But maybe America could have been more. Maybe it coild have done more. He loved this country. Above all, he loved the ideals it had been founded upon. Always aspirational, always theoretical, but over time those ideals had became more and more real as they were applied to more and more people- emancipation, womens's suffrage, civil rights, indigenous people's rights, women's rights, LGBTQIA+ rights. The recognition that those principles applied to everyone was what he had loved about this land, that it had kept evolving and aspired to be always better than it was.
But along with that came the backlash, the polarization, the hatred and resentment of people who felt like they were losing power, people who felt like they weren't in charge anymore. And then there were those frustrated over the shifting of the economy or the switch to other forms of energy or technology that had caused great hardship and struggle for so many. The nuclear disaster in Ohio or the environmental tragedies on the west coast only made things worse for people.
Those bitter feelings- some legitimate and some not- were fanned ever hotter by demagogues who cynically and callously rode them to power, deepening the divide along the way. Even without The Ascendency and the ASU and then the Dominion, America had lost its way and position.
So being home again, well, he couldn"t help but wish things had been different. He couldn't help but miss what he remembered.
Careful, he then told himself. Entropy in information theory applies to memory too, pal. Information degradation was a given unless correcting steps were taken. Everytime you processed a memory you inadvertantly change it in some way. Nostalgia is always better than the reality because you invariably fixate on the good and edit out the bad.
Life is what it is. Good and bad. Pain and pleasure. Loss and gain. He'd had suffered loss that nearly killed him. Hayden left a gaping hole in his heart. And yet, now, with peace had come a change. Itwas like he could feel his son watching over him.
Sometimes when he dreamed, dreams so vivid, so tangible that he almost swore it was reality, he caught glimpses of Hayden- a shadow or mist, for just a moment. It wasn"t always the same brown hair and smiling goateed face he remembered so well that it twisted him up inside. Sometimes, in the way dreams were, he knew it was Hayden even when he looked like a dark man his age or older, with gray at his temples, recognized his son even with the Red hair and uncharacteristic height.
Dreams were funny that way. But it was enough. Hayden existed somewhere. He knew it. He watched over him. And so he lived his life, content with his lot, sometimes even talking to his dead son when no one was around.
Loss and gain. His wife, Ayden. Nikki, now. Anne at one time. Just names. But his wife and his heart. His best friend. And now, at 46 he would be a father again. They would be parents. Part of him was terrified. He knew what it meant to lose a child. But he also knew the joy of one, watching it grow, helping them become what the were meant to be, whatever it was.
And so the anticipation and joy outweighed the fear. His wife, his sweet, sharp, beautiful deadly dangerous wife. He wasn't afraid of her. He knew she'd never hurt him, despite her power. More than anything, he liked her. Genuinely liked her. And liked being with her.
So there they were in southen Colorado, living not far from South Fork off the 160. It was as close to Farmington as Connor was ever going to go. Acceptance was one thing. Seeing where he had raised his son, with all those memories, was another.
Ayden worked as a waitress and he did remote devlopment as a contractor. They had a small place and together they worked on their house. He'd remodelled the kitchen- her vision of course- and was now working on the bedroom for the baby- doing the trim after replacing the wood flooring, at the moment. He'd always liked carpentry. In some ways, it was so different from his work as a developer. And yet in others, it required the same type of thinking through a problem, of planning ahead.
Except that he didn't risk cutting a finger on the skillsaw when up to his armpits in code.
The saw spun to a stop as he finished his next cut, the ringing of his wallet replacing its noise. Seeing it was Nikki, he picked up, holding it with his shoulder as he compared the now two angled pieces to make sure they met at 90s degrees.
The pieces of trim clattered to the ground as the floor seem to open up and swallow him. Anger- no, rage, filled him. Fuck! They were happy here!!
She was gone without another word. He stood there, thinking, a feeling of stubborness taking hold. He didn't want to move. Not again. He needed to talk to Nikki. He needed to know what was going on.
Except....he trusted her. She would have said more if she could. They were a team. Shaking his head with frustration, he headed to bedroom and pulled out a suitcase.
This fucking sucked!!
Truth was, after living in Moscow, the richest and most powerful city on earth ruled by the largest empire that had ever existed on earth...well, coming back made him....wistful. Sad. Not for himself. Not really. He'd made peace with his loss, made peace with life.
But he remembered when America had still been the greatest nation on earth. Russia had been grumbling, trying to find its footing after the collapse of the Soviet Union, bumbling from one tin pot dictator with delusions of grandeur to another.
The America of his teens and early 20s had still been vibrant and virile, he remembered. But then, somehow, little by little- disasters here and there, terrible presidents and isolationist policies, along with a paralyzing polarization, it lost its way. Sure, The Ascendancy was a force to be reckoned with. an undeniable one. Only now did people really fimd out the full extent of his power.
But maybe America could have been more. Maybe it coild have done more. He loved this country. Above all, he loved the ideals it had been founded upon. Always aspirational, always theoretical, but over time those ideals had became more and more real as they were applied to more and more people- emancipation, womens's suffrage, civil rights, indigenous people's rights, women's rights, LGBTQIA+ rights. The recognition that those principles applied to everyone was what he had loved about this land, that it had kept evolving and aspired to be always better than it was.
But along with that came the backlash, the polarization, the hatred and resentment of people who felt like they were losing power, people who felt like they weren't in charge anymore. And then there were those frustrated over the shifting of the economy or the switch to other forms of energy or technology that had caused great hardship and struggle for so many. The nuclear disaster in Ohio or the environmental tragedies on the west coast only made things worse for people.
Those bitter feelings- some legitimate and some not- were fanned ever hotter by demagogues who cynically and callously rode them to power, deepening the divide along the way. Even without The Ascendency and the ASU and then the Dominion, America had lost its way and position.
So being home again, well, he couldn"t help but wish things had been different. He couldn't help but miss what he remembered.
Careful, he then told himself. Entropy in information theory applies to memory too, pal. Information degradation was a given unless correcting steps were taken. Everytime you processed a memory you inadvertantly change it in some way. Nostalgia is always better than the reality because you invariably fixate on the good and edit out the bad.
Life is what it is. Good and bad. Pain and pleasure. Loss and gain. He'd had suffered loss that nearly killed him. Hayden left a gaping hole in his heart. And yet, now, with peace had come a change. Itwas like he could feel his son watching over him.
Sometimes when he dreamed, dreams so vivid, so tangible that he almost swore it was reality, he caught glimpses of Hayden- a shadow or mist, for just a moment. It wasn"t always the same brown hair and smiling goateed face he remembered so well that it twisted him up inside. Sometimes, in the way dreams were, he knew it was Hayden even when he looked like a dark man his age or older, with gray at his temples, recognized his son even with the Red hair and uncharacteristic height.
Dreams were funny that way. But it was enough. Hayden existed somewhere. He knew it. He watched over him. And so he lived his life, content with his lot, sometimes even talking to his dead son when no one was around.
Loss and gain. His wife, Ayden. Nikki, now. Anne at one time. Just names. But his wife and his heart. His best friend. And now, at 46 he would be a father again. They would be parents. Part of him was terrified. He knew what it meant to lose a child. But he also knew the joy of one, watching it grow, helping them become what the were meant to be, whatever it was.
And so the anticipation and joy outweighed the fear. His wife, his sweet, sharp, beautiful deadly dangerous wife. He wasn't afraid of her. He knew she'd never hurt him, despite her power. More than anything, he liked her. Genuinely liked her. And liked being with her.
So there they were in southen Colorado, living not far from South Fork off the 160. It was as close to Farmington as Connor was ever going to go. Acceptance was one thing. Seeing where he had raised his son, with all those memories, was another.
Ayden worked as a waitress and he did remote devlopment as a contractor. They had a small place and together they worked on their house. He'd remodelled the kitchen- her vision of course- and was now working on the bedroom for the baby- doing the trim after replacing the wood flooring, at the moment. He'd always liked carpentry. In some ways, it was so different from his work as a developer. And yet in others, it required the same type of thinking through a problem, of planning ahead.
Except that he didn't risk cutting a finger on the skillsaw when up to his armpits in code.
The saw spun to a stop as he finished his next cut, the ringing of his wallet replacing its noise. Seeing it was Nikki, he picked up, holding it with his shoulder as he compared the now two angled pieces to make sure they met at 90s degrees.
The pieces of trim clattered to the ground as the floor seem to open up and swallow him. Anger- no, rage, filled him. Fuck! They were happy here!!
She was gone without another word. He stood there, thinking, a feeling of stubborness taking hold. He didn't want to move. Not again. He needed to talk to Nikki. He needed to know what was going on.
Except....he trusted her. She would have said more if she could. They were a team. Shaking his head with frustration, he headed to bedroom and pulled out a suitcase.
This fucking sucked!!