#pi:diary

It was turning colder again, the seasons seeming to pass in the blink of an eye. Winter wasn’t here yet, but sometimes in the mornings there was a bite in the air, and some leaves had begun to change. Soon, he’d be raking them into big piles to mulch up into next year’s compost.

How was he already thinking of next year? It seemed too soon and yet it was only a couple weeks more than three months away. Where did the time go?

x

Autumn had arrived, the smell of rain just fallen lingering and a cool breeze drifting through the window as Rosalind sat in her study, vaguely flicking through an old novel she’d read seemingly countless times before. As the record she’d been playing on the families antique gramophone came to end she let out a sigh, closing the novel she’d been paying no attention to and standing to restart the record.

Collapsing into the chaise longue under the window she took a grape one of the staff had left in a bowl next to it and popped it into her mouth, looking out the window at one of the grand trees in the garden.

The leaves had begun their annual change in colour, soon, she knew, they would be gone, and the cold winter would be upon them once more. Would it be, Rosalind pondered, another winter spent alone? She wasn’t one to yearn for company - she was too busy for such things... But as her thoughts drifted to her cousin and her ever expanding family, she couldn’t help the pang of jealousy. The way their home would light up with laughter over the holiday season, the young children delighting in the gifts and fun the long winter nights will bring.

A grand manor like her own was too much for one girl.

She closed her eyes, listening to the songs warbling vocals, and saw a face in her mind. The feelings she was beginning to have for him were becoming too strong to ignore, but in turn, the worries that her father would never approve of him crept in. Her eyes snapped open, the song having yet again come to an end. Sitting back up, Rosalind closed the window.

Sometimes... there was nothing you could do - or indeed, very little you could do. It was a horrible position to be in for a man who had sworn an oath to help, to know that... sometimes? You couldn’t. And it wasn’t for a lack of trying it just... wasn’t always viable. There wasn’t always supplies, or knowledge, or just... options. Sometimes there was nothing you could do.

Iris stared at her checkbook as if seeing it for the first time. She balanced it regularly, of course, but... well, she didn’t give it much thought, beyond making sure everything was in order. (A luxury that came from being far from in the red these days.)

But speaking of how “in the black” she was... well, she was sitting pretty with more funds than she could possibly need, and she didn’t intend to be one who just... amassed wealth and sat on it. She needed to do something with it.

Five hours. Five hours of constant struggle with his computer, and Trent was about ready to throw it out the window. It wasn’t even a hardware problem (which would not necessarily be better, he was only so good at repairs and it had been a while), it was trying to access a site in his preferred browser. A little problem, but a problem nonetheless. He didn’t have time to fuss with it all day, so he checked in periodically, waiting to see if anything would work. Finally, exasperated and a little desperate, he logged out and logged back in.