It's all one flower.
453. Roles Each
A sharp whistle rings in the hemline of the Kublum Mountains.
Somewhat, painted on mud, forty sweaty men came down to the tidy square. The squad that was resting earlier returns to the line. For that matter, a line of men proceeded toward the mountain.
Returning to the square, the people made a row in front of a wagon car containing the confectioner's shop name, wiping sweat with a towel wrapped around his neck.
"It's a green populus."
He is told the colour and name of the label, and a couple of confectioners look for his from a bottle arranged on the long desk by the wagon car. In the meantime, the tailor's manager Kufshenka gets a small chunk of salt, the needle apprentice Sarotka gets one dried fruit and goes around with clean hands in the mouth of people waiting in order.
"Mr. Poples, yes. Please take a rest."
Oh, thank you.
A confectioner's wife smiles at a bottle filled with water. The man who received it moved his face to the shade of the tree. My ear hurts with a big chorus of cicadas.
It's a project to dig up streets in the mountains that have been abandoned and buried for years. There are more than three hundred gathered people sharing roles.
The clerk who enters the mountains and cuts down the trees that have grown on the road in the last thirty years, the clerk who digs the roots, the clerk who digs back the dirt that has filled the road, the clerk who bags the fallen leaves, dead branches, rotten soil, etc. piled on the road by type, the clerk who sends the bags in order according to the instructions of the bucket relay and transports them to this square, the clerk who loads the bags collected in light tigers...
Here, one hundred and eighty people are sweating as they take turns pinching their breaks.
A banker's private car returned filled with water filled polytanks and large bottles.
The confectioner couple and Sarotka received it, and the old woman Kufushenka loaded an empty container into the banker's car.
"Has anyone been injured or collapsed from heat stroke?
"Thank you. Thanks, I'm fine."
"That's good. Okay, be safe."
The wounded and those who fall from heat stroke are transported to the church for help. If he was seriously ill, he was transported to a hospital in the estate district. unfamiliar work in flames, but fortunately, there are no dead until today on the fourth day.
When I drop off the banker's car, I now use the funnel (candle) to get on with the task of transferring water to my personal bottle.
Light tigers also set off when the bags were piled up and secured with sheets and ropes.
Sheeney Green Space for dirt sand and rotted soil, and lowering of felled trees and dead branches in elementary and secondary schools.
Falling leaves and soil are arranged on the slopes of Sheeney Green Space, where they are not put out of the bag, mowed and sun improved, steaming and killing pests, heat-resistant fungi, etc. For this reason, Kufushenka prepared a large quantity of black garbage bags.
The dead branches packed in the flecon bags are stored in empty classrooms as fuel for people placed in schools to bundle with hemp strings in an amount that is easy to carry. The felled trees were also cleared by apportionment in the school yard. Cut the excess branch leaves into pieces and collect them in another bag as a material for the nursery pot.
There were also clerks to draw water to deliver it to the people working in this square and the Sheeney Green Space.
From the eastern end to the western end of the Kublum Mountains, the old streets pass through.
The streets are covered with cobblestones, one in twelve, engraved with spells and curses. It's a big trick to use the power of the ground vein and the magic of passers-by to activate the [exorcism] technique.
Since the establishment of the Listwar Autonomous Region thirty years ago, there have been few and abandoned users. There are fallen leaves and dead branches, and you dig up the path buried in the dust and sand, and you clean it up.
As more people gathered than expected, the food that could be given as a reward for the work was likely to be less than a week away, but Kufushenka still seemed adequate.
Over winter fuel, fat soil for home gardens gathered in large quantities, while a relatively safe path was stretched protected from miscellaneous demons and the like. Increase the range where you can go to collect nuts and firewood.
By winter, many collective homes will be completed.
... This winter, fewer people will freeze to death or starve to death.
The eastern Barack Zone of the Autonomous Region was burned down in 80% of the way in the winter fires, leaving countless casualties and missing persons. Needle Amiella's father also appears to have died.
In exchange for many lives lost, the eastern district, which was the Barack Zone, is gaining a large and comfortable city.
The population was dwindling, there was good support from foreign Kirkurist groups, and life was much easier than before, but there were still no fewer crimes such as theft. Skin clothes, towels, blankets, even though the same thing has gone to everyone.
People who are now involved in cleaning mountain roads are more likely to be stolen than stolen, one way or another.
The inhabitants of the Ristover Autonomous Region are all Kirkurs. Why take it away from the same "unbelievers" who share the same faith? Regardless, criminals sometimes come out of residents of estate districts and rural districts, but they steal from the rich. We don't bother to take a trip to the poor and dangerous East End to steal bad quality stuff.
... I wonder what this difference is.
Saint Kirkulus Lacteus strictly forbids theft, fornication, etc. as an act of the intelligent.
Kufshenka tried not to think too much about what would happen to the future of the Autonomous Communities after they were gone. The future doesn't get any better or worse, no matter how distracted the old man who's about to disappear.
… it is the young who make the future.
At the very least, Khushchenka renewed her determination to make the best of it, to make the road brighter where it was going.