Just after dawn, a faint, cool mist rose from the lake. Morning light shone across the water like a handful of silver coins scattered over soft silk.
Another night of wind and rain had passed. Broadleaf plants were the finest painters, using their leaves to brush the lawn and pavement a brilliant yellow. Two fallen leaves had blown against the glass. Schiller opened the window, took them down, and set them on the little table before the fireplace to dry. Gotham's autumn had already given him dozens of bookmarks.
The fireplace had burned brightly all night and had only just gone out. The whole living room was filled with the pleasant scent of dry wood, colliding with the dampness pouring in through the window. Schiller heard birds chirping again. Looking out through the window at the side of the living room, he could vaguely see one corner of the chestnut tree, with what seemed to be northern cardinals flitting among its branches.
Schiller took out his phone and first used points to order some basic ingredients to restock the refrigerator. Then he used cash to buy coffee beans, black tea, and sugar. He activated the cleaning robot, told it to tidy the house, and headed out to teach.
However, he did not drive. Strategic resources like gasoline were still rationed by headcount. Schiller did not receive much gas on his own, not enough to support driving to and from work every day, so when the weather was good, he walked to the bus stop.
A long pedestrian path ran right outside his door. He only had to follow it forward and turn west; there was a bus stop nearly a mile away. The walk took dozens of minutes, but the scenery along the way was quite nice, making it well