Wednesday, August 28, 2019

Word: Sanguine

sanguine

[ sang-gwin ]

adjective


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               Craig burst out of bed, with an annoyingly energetic smile on his face.
               “Good morning!” He called.  “Isn’t it a lovely day?”
               He headed to the viewing screen, taking a long, satisfied breath at the sight of the sunrise.  In the face of Craig’s overwhelming optimism and energy, Leo was unjustly forced to open his eyes.  He let out a long groan and forced himself into a mostly upright position.
               Craig immediately started his morning routine, whistling an upbeat tune the entire time.  Leo forced himself to move, slumping out of bed and trudging through the metal room the two of them occupied.  He looked at the sunrise and sighed.
               “What’s so great about it?  It’s just like every other day since we got here.”
               “Well, just look at it.  The sun is shining, the birds are singing.  Everything’s just so beautiful.”
               Leo should have known better than to ask. 
               “Craig, we’re a mile underground.  That’s a video of a sunrise.  We haven’t seen the real sun or heard a real bird in almost a year.”
               “Well, yes, but somewhere the sun is shining, and birds are singing.  That’s good enough for me.”
               Leo felt a headache coming on that had nothing to do with the stale, recycled air they were constantly breathing.  How could anyone be so infuriatingly happy all the time?  Craig was practically skipping as he got ready for the day.  And that whistling.  How could anyone stand it?  How could anyone stand to make a sound like that?
               “Oh don’t be such a downer.” Craig said.  “We’re alive, we’re healthy, we have a good thing going for us.”
               “I’ll give you the first two, but the third is up for debate.  We’re stuck in a tiny underground room for another four years, with only each other for company.  We get up, check the equipment, and that’s it.  Seriously, what about our situation is good?”
               “Lot’s of things.  We’re helping people.  Advancing the cause of science.  Working to make life better for everyone.  How is that not a great thing?  How can you be so glum knowing we’re doing something so amazing?”
               Leo shuffled around the room to his workstation and slumped into his chair.  The thing had started very comfortable, but after a year of near constant use, it was starting to wear out.  He cursed the government for using such cheap seating. 
               “Sure doesn’t feel important.” He muttered.
               Craig sat at his workstation with a smile constantly plastered to his face.  “Just remember that it is, and you’ll be fine.  Just think about how many lives we’ll be saving with this data.  Think about all the people that will know our names.  Think about it.  We’re pretty much heroes at this point.”
               “Craig, nobody remembers the grunts that do the work.  They remember the people who were in charge.”
               “Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin beg to differ.”
               “We’re not astronauts.  Also, do you remember any of the other people on those missions?” Leo asked.  Craig was silent.  For a moment, Leo thought his partner’s cheerful face cracked.  “That’s what I thought.”
               “Look, just do your job, think about the good things, and keep your chin up.  That’s what I do, and it’s been doing wonders for both of us.”
               “Yeah, right.  You keep telling yourself that.”
               As the two men got to work, silence reigned.  That was broken only by a quiet muttering from Leo.
               “They could’ve at least given us an internet connection.”
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An internet connection or more than two people would be great in that situation, don't you think?  Even someone like me, who generally doesn't hang out with people too often needs at least some social interaction, you know?

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