Cities lack a reliable supply of water. They are crumbling to a ruinous state. Citizens barely subsist. Drought has crept inexorably northwards, laying waste to Europa’s southern states, stripping the land of its living skin, homogenising colours. Only the hilly regions and dissident green mountains are exempt, offering a rare lushness. Green being the primary colour of life. We Kommunards live a privileged existence, surrounded by nature in all her wild grandeur. The mountain, less solid than it appears, bleeds water from its insides. Water water everywhere, and more than a drop to drink!
Mount Wilders…
… is a geological crease into which nature has squeezed an abundant supply. The principal reason why Baronet Sauvette, all those years ago, selected this land upon which to build his home.
To the west of the château is a shallow pool, crystal clear and filtered clean by rock and reed. It is self-replenishing, so we may drink our fill. The pool stays cool in summer. And it is a masochistic pleasure that i and fellow Kommunards wash in it; rinsing ourselves clean of all the grime and sweat of lotti labour.