2nd Daynion, Sevnion I

I woke up very early this morning. Surely the stress due to my first day of work... I had to go to the shore and be looked by people. My ears were known in the valley, but new refugees surely had never seen elves in their lives...

From my window, I could see the Seamen Pub. I made myself the promise to come there more often. After all, there was nothing else to do on this island. Nevertheless, painting seemed to be a very interesting activity after all... Elves had always like art and I wasn't a exception.

At exactly 8 o'clock, a man came to take me in what looked like a car covered by mud.

"Couldn't you wash that car with all the water on the sea around us ?" I asked on an angry tone. "Or maybe were you waiting for the rain to wash it for you ? That car is just disgusting."

"Listen Big-Ears, if you're not happy you still can walk." replied the driver. "I'm paid to drive this car, not to wash it."

"Then you must try some initiatives sometimes..." I muttered.

The road to the shore was awful. This man smelled awfully and had a very shameful car. My day at work was good, but I felt dirty and tired when I came back home. And all these people who were staring at me at the office !

The first thing I did was to take a good bath. It was so nice to be home after a long day work. But there was an advantage about working on the shore : I had fresh news from the war. The mayor's office was near mine and I could hear everything they said in it. Apparently, they sent a boat to see if war was over but it never came back. We still heard explosions from far but as they weren't coming closer to Seagull Island we could sleep without worrying. '

The mayor also tried to sent a balloon to see if there were places where men could live. But he had to face the truth. This truth I saw when I took the last refugee boat. The continent had simply disappeared, eaten by an atomic explosion. And the pieces of land that stayed were irradiated so nobody could live there for the next thousand sevnions. Still, people were talking about other islands near ours. Apparently, some refugees lived hundred miles away from our island. Maybe some of my people were there ! No, I shouldn't be optimistic like this silly Mélissa. All mines were dead long time ago and nothing could bring them back. I preferred to resign myself and then feel pain no more than hope with the risk of braking my heart again.