Anticipation

We made it safely to Washington D.C.

It was quite a trip. The Liminals let us use the old electric bus and van that the original Synergists rode into Miami. Synergy Roads also supplied us with two more electric vans for some of the new volunteers who are joining us for the march.

We had to avoid a few major cities, both because of the traffic and because of the random stops and checkpoints along the way. It took a long time, but there were some beautiful spots in rural Georgia and the Carolinas. When we reached southern Virginia, we passed on the bus and van on to a local community center in exchange for a few smaller vehicles that would draw less attention.

The security approaching D.C. was outrageous. It was obvious that there was a state of emergency. Inbound traffic on the interstates was almost at a standstill due to the checkpoints, armored personnel carriers, and sheer number of vehicles. None of our people got arrested, but it put us on edge.

In order to find places to stay close to the city, we had to split up. I’m here with Bridget, one of the original Synergists, and a few newer recruits who I don’t know as well but have gotten to know better on the trip over here. We’re going to be sleeping on the floor of a small church with what looks like about a hundred other people. It’ll he cozy, but we’re all here for similar reasons, so it works. There’s this energy among the people that’s hard to describe — a tangible sense of anticipation. You can hear it in people’s voices, see it in their eyes, feel it in their body language. Some are talking about politics. Some are talking about the weather. Some are talking about anything but the march. But no matter what they’re talking about, its obvious how wired they all are, each with their own person mix of excitement, fear, anger, hope, and most of all, longing for change.

I feel it too.

So now, we wait. Tomorrow is the big day. Nobody knows for sure how many people are marching, but most of the people outside of Fox News are saying this will be by far the biggest march in the history of the country. I guess we’ll see. Whatever happens, it’s good to know we’re not alone. Wish us luck.

 

 

Kass

My name is Kass and I'm an American climate refugee. This blog is the story of my life after leaving Miami in the wake of Hurricane Florence in June of 2030. I'm pleased to announce that Goodbye Miami is now an ebook! Please check out the ebook for the full text of all entries: Goodbye Miami on Amazon. Thanks for your support!