After the Factory
The summer heat clung to the town, though by evening the sun dipped behind the rows of brick terraces, and the air grew lighter. Windows were flung wide open, a bowl of sliced tomatoes and cucumbers rested on the sillthe flat smelled like the freshness of the market. Voices drifted in from outside: an argument by the front steps, children kicking a football on the tarmac, muffled laughter from the neighbours flat.
Lyudmila Sergeyevna, an engineer with twenty years under her belt, sat at the kitchen table, staring at her old mobile. Since morning, the towns chat groups had buzzed with just one topic: what would happen to the factory? Rumours swirledsome spoke of layoffs, others of a potential sale. But today, the unease felt sharp. Her husband, Alexei, silently sliced bread. He was never one for words, especially when it came to work.
«You think theyll really shut it down?» Lyudmila tried to keep her voice steady, but it cracked anyway.
Alexei shrugged. He couldnt lie, even to ease her worry.
«If they werent planning to close it, theyd have said so by now. The delayed wages werent for nothing»
Lyudmila caught herself counting the days between pay slips. Just a month ago, theyd talked about redoing the bathroom. Now, the house hummed with dreadwould there be enough for groceries? How would they cover the bills?
By evening, the children arrived: their eldest, Irina, back from her shift at the chemists, and their son, Kostya, whod recently returned from the city where hed been training in logistics. He brought bags of shopping and a folder of papers.
«The job centre says if it shuts, theyll run courses for people like us. Theyre already making lists»
Lyudmila bristled at «people like us.» As if theyd all be lumped together, taught to start over.
The kitchen grew crowdedeveryone talking over each other. Irina complained about rising medicine prices; Kostya suggested trying for work at a new warehouseapparently, they needed stock clerks.
Then the telly chimed with the local news theme. Everyone fell silent. The council leader appeared on screen:
«The factory is suspending operations. Plans are in place to convert the site into a logistics hub»
The rest blurred into a dull roar in Lyudmilas ears. She saw only her familys faces: Alexeis lips pressed thin, Irina turning to the window, Kostya frozen with the folder in his lap.
A door slammed in the stairwellnews travelled faster than official notices.
That night, Lyudmila tossed and turned. She remembered her first factory shift: the fear of mistakes at the machine, the pride in her «excellence in production» badge. Now it felt like someone elses life. At dawn, she dug out her engineering diploma, her work records, and headed to the job centre. Outside, the June heat was already stifling; the air smelled of cut grass and road dust.
The queue was full of familiar faces: foremen, the accountant from down the road. They joked about «new beginnings,» but their eyes were tired.
«Theyre offering retraininglogistics, warehouse work. Even IT courses if youre keen,» one said loudly, as if convincing himself.
Lyudmila signed up for logistics. Not out of passionbut because sitting idle at home scared her more than starting over.
Alexei returned that evening with a leaflet: «Pipeline construction worktwo weeks on, one month off.» The pay was double the factory wage. But it meant time away.
Dinner turned tense.
«Im going north. Theres nothing here!» Alexei raised his voice for the first time in years.
«We could work together on this. The towns changingKostya says they need people at the hub!» Lyudmila fought to stay calm.
«Plans wont put food on the table!»
The children exchanged glancesIrina sided with her mother, Kostya argued for the hubs potential. The family split down the middle.
Late that night, the windows stayed open; the scent of chips drifted from nearby flats, teenagers laughed outside. Lyudmila sat by the balcony, phone in hand, wanting to call Alexeibut hed gone for a walk alone.
The rift between them was solid: Alexei set on the north, Lyudmila considering staying for the hub. Neither would yield.
Three days later, Alexei left for his shift. That evening, he packed in silence, glancing at the balcony where Lyudmila stood, watching the street. Kostya helped fold his winter coatodd in the heat. Irina joked about «new adventures,» her voice strained. Papers lay scattered: route maps, the hubs offer, job centre forms.
At dawn, Lyudmila walked him to the coach. The square was packedsome leaving, others seeing family off. Alexei hugged her tight, awkwardly. His eyes were weary but resolved.
«Keep going. Dont give up,» was all he said.
The coach pulled away. Lyudmila watched until it vanished. Walking home, she felt holloweach of them now living in separate timelines.
The house was quiet. Lyudmila reread her retraining offer. The class was a mixformer machinists, store clerks, even a chemist from the next unit. The tutor explained digital invoicing; some scribbled notes, others tapped at tablets.
At first, it was alienwarehouse terms jumbled in her head, the pace too quick. But within weeks, her hands steadied on the keyboard. She even helped a classmate navigate the stock system.
Evenings were quieter without Alexei. Kostya brought hub updates: regional funding secured, small orders trickling in. Irina took extra workprocessing invoices for chemists and shops.
Windows stayed open late. The warm air carried voicesneighbours barbecuing, chatting on benches. Lyudmila listened: some grumbled about «better days,» others plotted grocery deliveries or repair businesses.
Two weeks in, a message came from Alexeia shaky clip of his northern digs: low sun over marshland, a fenced-off construction site.
«All fine here. Hard graft, but decent folk.»
Later, a crackling callwind and generator noise cutting his words.
«Maybe after this stint, Ill try for something local. If the hub works out»
His voice had picked up a northern twang. Lyudmila felt something shiftdread easing into cautious hope.
The hubs early days were messy: delayed shipments over paperwork errors, a van sent to the wrong address. But the town ralliedformer colleagues shared advice, even meals after shifts.
One evening, Kostya suggested a street meetingto explain the hubs work to neighbours. Lyudmila hesitatedpublic speaking wasnt her strength. But Irina backed the idea. They drafted talking points, invited the close-knit families.
More came than expected: women with flasks of tea, homemade cakes, kids playing by the benches.
Lyudmila spoke plainlyno promises of easy fixes, just the fear shed felt weeks ago, the relief of small wins.
«We stick together. Its new for all of usbut if we help each other, this towns got a chance.»
After, the street buzzedideas for bulk orders, medicine runs for elderly, even a summer fete.
A month later, Alexei returnedleaner, wearier, but listening as Lyudmila and the kids shared hub progress.
Over dinner, he offered to try local work first:
«I could help with the kit. If it doesnt pan out, the norths still there.»
The kids agreed. Lyudmila exhaledtheir choices werent a battle anymore, just steps forward.
Next day, the street prepped for the fete: paper bunting strung between trees, trestle tables laid out, kids hauling water for saplings along the path.
At dusk, the town felt differentsunlight streaking faces, laughter ringing end to end. Conversations werent just about the pastnew delivery routes, bike repair workshops, hub contracts.
That night, the family sat by the open window, listening to the hum of the town, watching lanterns glow where neighbours still laughed below.
Ahead lay unknownsbut the fear had faded, replaced by quiet readiness for tomorrow, whatever it brought.
