Millie Gram
“Guilty, the defendant will be sentenced to 23 years.” And so Millie had finally gained her freedom. Evelyn too, all those that Syzygy threatened and discarded, they have their justice at the swing of a gavel.
“Oh I’ll be sticking around, for a year or so, can’t get rid of me that easily” Nettie, or rather Millie (not that she minded which) cheerfully said to the reinstated head of features, Aya Schmidt. Lots of big changes have happened recently at the gazette, and she wanted to bring some sense of stability, like a rock in a storm.
“and I’ll always be around for you to talk to”
For two years (she had planned it to be one, but it seems she wanted to stay on for that little bit longer) Nettie was a friendly, familiar face in the office: continuing her weekly duckwalks near the big ole tree; talking fervently about motorbikes to Elodie; making sure Sora gets enough sleep; being a shoulder to lean on; chatting to everybody; and really taking to her semi-official position as a mentor.
After an exciting ride with her beloved motorcycle, Millie bequeathed it to Elodie; “Senti Mytr wont be needing it any longer”
I hope these youngens are gonna be alright.
“There's no avoiding it, my retirements been a long time coming; I’ll miss seeing you all. Thank you for letting Nettie live a good life”, “and I’ll always be around for you to talk to” following hours of goodbyes, she was out the doors of the New Glabe Gazette, Never to return.
Every so often postcards would arrive at the New Glabe Gazette, detailing Millies misadventures in retirement: Standing under the Great Falls; witnessing a geomagnetic storm; wilderness camping; swimming the good boundary reef; reuniting with friends of former lives.
What she never told anyone about was the look in her now adult nieces eye, when she saw the aged face of someone she thought was gone forever, or the guilt of looking at your own headstone; some wrongs are forgiven, though they burden nonetheless.
“May I borrow her again, just for one final time?” Millie asks Elodie.
Millie Gram, Nettie Schmidt, Senti Mytr, simultaneously they ride through the expansive moorland of Glabshire; jacket flowing in the wind. Destination finally reached; a tall stone structure, towering in its solitude. She picks a white lily growing nearby and slowly makes her way to the top of the windmill; peering out at the world below, what a grand life it has been.
A children’s nursery rhyme settles on the breeze:
Windmill! Windmill!
What do you do?
Spinning all day,
No-one has a clue
Windmill! Windmill!
Sing me a song:
Airy and free,
Stable and strong.
Windmill! Windmill!
Twirling away,
Winding the bobbin?
Turning night to day?
Windmill! Windmill!
what can you see?
Tell of the future,
Hope or misery?
Windmill! Windmill!
Say you’ll meet me there
Beyond the dark,
A place where all is fair.
– by Izzy