Harmony
The village of Harmony has somewhere around 200 folks. It began a couple of hundred years ago after the end of the Third Great War. A few families came together and worked together to create a community that would reflect its namesake. Originally a commune, now a village with two schools, two general stores, two stables and an Inn. Barn dances are a favorite past time. Moonshine and wine are locally available.
Farming is the main livelihood. Meat and potatoes being as in demand as ever.
I, however, am a broker. I match needs and haves. Say you need milk, and you grow corn, apples, and soybeans. Joe, on the other hand, has cows and needs feed corn. The trick is to have organized lists to find the nearest Joe and broker the best deal so people seek you out. Enter the broker.
Just about home after a long day of few success's. Ah, there's miss Muffinwise shaking out her rugs. There's Mr. Peters walking his dog. There at last is my front door with a note at the stoop. Rolled up in a circle and tied up with blue yarn. Must be from Misty. Misty has been my very good friend since grade school. The note stated simply, "Need to see you". Mystery sucks. Oh well, tomorrow morning is scheduled.
