New Estra Colonists

Estreau, Three Hundred Years Before

“This is not living, this is dying slowly,” Thaelen complained to Sigrid as he steered the horseless carriage along the street, applying his horn when pedestrians on the road ignored his approach. They glared at him over their shoulders as they stepped up onto the sidewalk.

The streets were filthy and stank of urine, the stone buildings grimed with the smoke that poured out of the factories to either side of the road. The road was crowded with people, dressed in faded colors, their shoulders slumped and their chins to their chests, shuffling their way to their shifts at the factories which ran twenty-four hours seven days a week.

“Too many people, not enough land, not enough jobs, and the wealth held by a small percentage who only seek to increase what they have, and lives become meaningless, valueless,” Sigrid shook her head sorrowfully as they watched a group of young children cross to join the adults queuing to enter the factories. “And working c