Waking, Leero sat up in bed as the morning rays fell upon his face. Though not quite time to get started, he stood anyway and pulled on his trousers that were already stained from yesterday’s work. Remmach was already up and he could smell the coffee and cooking biscuits; how she was always awake before him amazed him, but he never ceased to thank her for making breakfast. He walked into the common room and sat at the table while she struggled to move in the later stages of pregnancy, but he knew better than to offer a hand.

He felt a little more comfortable this morning, and unaware of the panic most people experienced hundreds of years before him, started pushing her buttons and making her giggle like a chaste teenager after he finished his meal. While he was in no hurry to get out to the pasture, the average Old Age person was trying to rush through the pandemonium of dressing, bathing, and hurrying off to the daily commute in order to work at a job they hated. Leero, however, loved his work. If he had known anything about the world before the collapse, he would have been thankful that he lived in the time that he did. It was not that he did not work hard, but he enjoyed going afield every day to work with his hands, tending to his livestock. They relied on him to care for them, and he relied on them to keep his family fed and with a roof over their heads.

After some prodding, Remmach relented and they retired to the bedroom once again to make love before their young children awoke. The morning rush. They lay partially under the covers for a moment after they had finished, smiling and relaxed with Remmach tangled around Leero, and his hand resting lightly on her swollen belly. Neither could imagine any drug that would give them a better rush than they experienced in that small, sun soaked room just after dawn.