Amalia
she wants the silence but fears the solitude
she wants to be alone and together with you
Amalia is in the basement when they arrive, and a not insignificant part of her considers staying there until they leave.
She does not, of course.
She can see it as soon as she steps into the room, emerging from behind the counter with a tray of cups and a pot of tea. The same dream. The same knowledge. The same weight in her apron pocket that they all must feel, the same responsibility that hangs over them, their voices quiet, their eyes subdued. Wordlessly Amalia places the tray down upon the wooden table, sliding cups to each of them before silently pouring tea. That they are all here does not surprise her, though she really thinks it should. In some strange way the bakery has become an epicenter of change, the place where they gather in triumph and defeat, to plan and to ponder, to build and tear down. Five seasons ago the building stood empty but for a layer of dust, but now? Now it is alive in ways that Anjali Chandrakant never could have dreamed.
"So. How should we begin?"
She does not sit: she is too nervous, too energetic, her cheeks flushed and her dark gaze uncertain as it flits between the other three. None of the others seem happy, but Amalia? Amalia's heart is a thunderous cacophony of excitement and anxiety, both terrified and elated at the prospect of this purpose, the daunting enormity of the responsibility entrusted unto them.
She does not, of course.
She can see it as soon as she steps into the room, emerging from behind the counter with a tray of cups and a pot of tea. The same dream. The same knowledge. The same weight in her apron pocket that they all must feel, the same responsibility that hangs over them, their voices quiet, their eyes subdued. Wordlessly Amalia places the tray down upon the wooden table, sliding cups to each of them before silently pouring tea. That they are all here does not surprise her, though she really thinks it should. In some strange way the bakery has become an epicenter of change, the place where they gather in triumph and defeat, to plan and to ponder, to build and tear down. Five seasons ago the building stood empty but for a layer of dust, but now? Now it is alive in ways that Anjali Chandrakant never could have dreamed.
"So. How should we begin?"
She does not sit: she is too nervous, too energetic, her cheeks flushed and her dark gaze uncertain as it flits between the other three. None of the others seem happy, but Amalia? Amalia's heart is a thunderous cacophony of excitement and anxiety, both terrified and elated at the prospect of this purpose, the daunting enormity of the responsibility entrusted unto them.
she ran to the lighthouse, hoped that it would help her see
she saw that the lighthouse had been washed out to sea
