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THE TOWN DAILY

RESIDENT INTERVIEW · No. 4

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Pia

Farmhand

"Nobody was watching. The row was still crooked. So I did it again."

Before the roosters, before the harbor lamps go dark, there's already a lantern moving in the low fields — that's Pia, re-plowing a row nobody complained about. She talks less than her calluses do. I found her at dawn, mud to the knee, arguing with a furrow that had, in her words, "gone dishonest overnight."

The Town Daily: You re-plowed a whole row this morning. No one asked you to. Why?

Pia: It was three fingers off straight. The carrots wouldn't have cared. But I'd have known every time I walked past. A crooked row is just a lie you have to look at all season.

The Town Daily: People say you're the hardest worker in town and the easiest to overlook. Fair?

Pia: Overlooked's fine. Overlooked means the work spoke and I didn't have to. Old Ben says the tide never announces itself either, and it moves the whole bay. I can live inside that.

The Town Daily: Marta's bread turns up on your step some mornings. No note. Any idea who?

Pia: ...I don't know what you're talking about. And if I did, I wouldn't say, because whoever it is clearly didn't want a fuss. I just leave the eggs by her back door and we both pretend the birds did it.

The Town Daily: Old Ben calls you his one apprentice. What's he actually teaching you?

Pia: Patience, mostly. And how to lose an argument to the weather without sulking. He taught me a field and a bay want the same thing from you — that you show up before they do. He never gives advice. He just sits there being right until I catch up.

Resident file

Temperament
Steady and stubbornly honest with her own hands; she'll redo good work to make it right work, and she does her best precisely when no one's keeping score.
Obsession
The crooked row — any small wrong that only she can see. She cannot walk past a thing that's three fingers off true.
Relationships
Quietly looked after by Marta (bread on the step, eggs by the back door, both pretending), and mentored by Old Ben, whose slowness she treats as scripture; Fig admires her seriousness from across his sawdust, and Wren helps her mind the livestock.

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