Gemma looked at the changing landscape of the country. It was a strange year. Millions stormed N.'s beautiful building and palaces, plundering all, taking all from N.'s people and packing themselves in the flats, which were barely able to contain them. The people of N., on the other hand, were afraid of sticking their noses from their hideouts, they barricaded themselves in basements, gyms, and schools. The streets of K. were slightly less populous but that also changed. Mice increased their number tenfold, feeding on N.'s trash bins and the surplus of food, being devoid of natural enemies. Then they attacked fields and devoured on human crops, leaving nothing for winter. Millions died of hunger, decimating the population of K. Soon the streets were empty and flats became more spacious.
But mice also died. They attracted foxes, wild dogs, cats, birds, and snakes to cross the borders of the country and decrease the mice population, at the same time increasing their own. Even beans failed that year, which had never happened before to this extent.
Gemma went back to the house. She was thin but she survived, hunting animals in the woods, portioning the food stored in Melquiades' basement. When she was searching through the drawers, looking for some further rations, she found an envelope. A year passed since Melquiades' death but she would always recognize his handwriting.
This house and all this land I leave to my only daughter Gemma.
Melquiades G.
Gemma smiled at the generosity of her old guardian. And then she burned the paper.
