If you look for it, that doesn’t change when it will arrive. It changes how quickly you will notice when it arrives. And possibly if you notice it at all.

It became a routine, a ritual. The inconveniences, the hiccups, the expected delays. Now jokes, now anticipated laughter.

An imagination greater than reality. A battle which couldn’t be won. So, many were lost.

Jefferson Davis, a president elect who didn’t run. John Brown, executed two years prior for acting on a plan to seize federal arms to equip those enslaved to rebel. Naive union soldiers, gathering souvenirs before the first battle of Bull Run was over. Picnicking civilians, accompanying the militia a mere 25 miles from D.C.

Some with a purpose, a calling. Others, a supportive role. Both, interweaving through each other’s stories.