Two Things [7]

1.

The sun rises over the city with a muted warmth, filtering through the dusty windows of a cramped office adorned with blueprints and maps. As he arrives, he is greeted by the familiar hum of generators and the distant sound of air raid sirens. The atmosphere is charged with urgency; every moment counts. The first order of business is to review the alterations to a community shelter under construction—an essential refuge for civilians.

He flips through the latest set of documents, making quick adjustments to the structural design to withstand potential blasts. Each decision weighs heavily on his shoulders; these spaces must offer safety and hope. The phone rings, interrupting his thoughts. It’s a call from a local NGO in need of a rapid layout for a makeshift hospital. He takes a deep breath, shuffles his papers, and begins to sketch, focusing on accessibility and the flow of care for the wounded. The sound of deep blasts alter his focus, he removes his glasses, holds his head, sighs as he looks through his window far into the city skyline.

2.

Meetings are brief and filled with tension. Collaborating with engineers, city planners, and military advisors, decisions are made with the communities’ survival in mind. The team discusses alternative materials and the feasibility of relocating infrastructure near the front lines. Time blurs as he dives into the cacophony of voices, pushing through drafts and revisions.

Lunch is a quick sandwich at his desk, barely touched, as urgent messages from city officials flood in—essential updates on potential strikes and civilian displacement. The sun dips low, casting shadows on his drafting table. He finally steps outside, his eyes scanning the city, reflecting on past designs that now serve a different purpose.

As dusk settles, he packs up for the day, his mind filled with new challenges ahead. The battle he fights is not just for design, but for resilience and the indomitable spirit of those who call this place home.