Interlude VIII - The Small Farmer
He wasn’t a billionaire.
He had land.
When the notification arrived; he thought it was a mistake.
Mandatory ownership revalidation; cycle expired.
On the portal; the message was objective.
Part of the area is temporarily suspended for productive redistribution pending social validation.
Suspended.
He grew corn on that land.
He employed two families directly there.
At the cooperative; they said it was a technical adjustment.
His daughter asked:
Are we going to lose it?He answered with a confidence he didn’t feel.
No.Three weeks later; he received the confirmation.
Thirty percent of the land would enter a provisional collective regime.
Provisional means no credit.
No credit means no planting.
No planting means no income.
He walked to the edge of the fence.
The land was there.
But it was no longer all his.
In the city; they called it structural justice.
In the countryside; they called it a lost harvest.
Entropy didn’t choose the elite.
It chose a cycle.
And in that cycle; he lost enough to never again trust in permanence.
