Act 1/4
I’ve lived here all my life. It’s the only place I know. Some folk from round here talk about going to live elsewhere, of jobs in the city but that’s not for me. I like to watch the cycles of life and the year. To cook my own food that I’ve helped to pluck from the ground and water that I’ve carried in from the well.
It’s a hard life and not for everybody but its the one for me. Even when the crops failed I wouldn’t have left. Where would I go? To a stinking hovel in the city and spend my days chained by the factory clock to a weaving machine? No. Not for this lass.
But it can be difficult knowing everybody and everybody knowing you and your business. From time to time I wake in the middle of the night and I just wander the fields. It gives me space to think. To just be. I can still hear the animals in the woods but it’s peaceful, away from those infernal steam engines that they’ve started to use for the ploughing and to carry feed and produce. They say its progress but I’m not so sure.
