Morena Prochazka || Marzanna

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October 8th, 2010

11:13 pm: By degrees we begin. Slowly, so slowly, mustn't rush. The anticipation is half the fun. Seventy degrees tomorrow, sixty-six a week from then. In a month, fifty-five. Not cold enough by half, but beggars can't be choosy. Patience, and the time will come.

Until then, there is death. There is always death to amuse myself with. Knowledge of these modern technologies might continue to elude me, but they do allow for a much more creative range of methods. Social network websites, such a brilliant creation! It is like shooting particularly stupid fish in an especially small barrel.

September 12th, 2010

01:04 pm: Eleven days. One hundred days. Autumn, then winter. Death followed by cold.

My patience grows thin; I can almost taste the first hard frost of the season. Perhaps, as a distraction, I will take it upon myself to bring home dinner tonight. Mustn't let our skills go to waste while we pine for that which can't be hurried.

August 6th, 2010

07:15 pm: This drought in Russia, they say it's the worst since they began to keep records of these things only 130 years ago. There are wildfires and there are millions of acres of crops withering in the heat. The wheat has been hit the hardest; already they predict a yield that is over two million tons less than last year. Russia will not be exporting grains this year, to save what is left for itself. Such a ban has driven up wheat prices the world over, and here they are the highest they have been in two years.

Well, I do not envy my other self still there. It is a difficult thing, to watch your harvests fail. Not that I will know that this year, of course. This rise in price will make a prosperous year for my properties, I think.

June 11th, 2010

08:21 pm: My son and my house-spirit are playing "hide and go torture." It's so nice to see the children getting along for once, even if the house is a mess because somebody has yet to regrow a few limbs.

Ah well. I don't want to spoil their fun, so I will go downstairs instead. The basement is very cold, and this weather is not. I need to feel the chill seep into my very bones; the heat when I was harvesting in Kansas was unbelievable.

May 24th, 2010

10:43 pm: The harvesting of winter wheat is underway and the crews are hitting the road to spend the next three months following the rest of the wheat harvest. I believe I'll go out west and find my old harvesting crew, travel with them for a while. I have been too long away from the land and the bounty it provides.

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May 6th, 2010

08:05 pm: I appear to have picked a bad day to go shopping. But then, one cannot be expected to plan one's social calendar around the temper tantrums of other pantheons.

Marzanna fails to see the need to add that for all she is used to death and darkness, she spent the entire blackout hiding in the dressing room of a clothing store, trying to escape a darkness that was unfamiliar and unwelcoming and cold.

April 29th, 2010

08:59 am: It is lovely, my mysterious gift-giver, but you neglected to provide an occasion where I might wear it.

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April 24th, 2010

11:29 pm: I have lived in this new apartment for less than two days and already my neighbors are showing just how neighborly they can be. David would like to take me to a show, Sean offers dinner, and the other one, I think his name is with a T or a C or something, invited me to partake in the city's nightlife. Decisions, decisions.

Whomever is unlucky enough to catch my eye first had best not be very fond of this life. I have been reading the forecasted prices and crop yields for both the winter and summer wheat, and both remain as disheartening as last year. I am not pleased, and do act without thinking on these occasions.

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April 13th, 2010

10:42 pm: One hundred forty years, I live in peace with my farmers and their folklore and superstitions, no others like myself around. Now this city is like a giant flame of otherness, and like a moth I fly to it to investigate. Perhaps it is good, a change of pace. If I had to listen to one more man yammer on indecisively about switching from corn to soybeans there would have been a very late frost on the fields.

Ah, but this city is full of lovely young men who have not experienced the pain of a broken heart. It is spring, and that is what I do best this season. Who is first, New York? Let us begin.

April 12th, 2010

09:21 pm: application )

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