the light

The boy from the Rights was new to the city. It didn’t scare him. It wouldn’t scare him, he had decided, like all from the Rights, once he decided he never wavered. The city was odd and different, unlike anything he had prepared for. The Rights was special, as the name suggested, the community fervently believed in the right way of living. They were excessively polite and noble. Competition and other aggressive instincts had ceased to exist within this community after five generations of righteous living.
The boy was the first in thirty years to leave the community. Many were exiled, for not being ‘right’ but they are the invisible, never to be spoken or thought of even. The boy was the first to choose to leave. Why? No One understood, but it would not have been right to stop him so no one did.
The city was an altar to New. In true tribute to everything new means and stands for; she stood tall and proud, the big, beautiful, defiant city. The Ferris wheel spun every day every night. She was the same; bright and infectious, she dared you to go more, to do more, to be more. Every street, alley, corner took you to places the boy never knew even existed.
He had decided, even before beginning his journey, to not be scared. He had resolved this, in his persistent, determined way; the same as he had lived these twenty one years. He felt fear despite his unwavering will to not feel it, the day he met Pear.
Pear, pear, prickly pear. Is your momma a hairy bear? The sing song taunt, she heard every day every night. Growing up made no difference to the songs of her childhood. They followed her everywhere. On her eighteenth birthday, when tradition laid down for children to leave their houses to pretend play for life at being grownups, she chose to be a pear. Even a prickly pear if they demanded. No more would she try to be nice or polite. No more would she try to fit. She held on to this chant stubbornly, with her lip jutting and her fist clenched most tight, she held on to it. Three years she lived true to this. She found her place in the night-city. The people didn’t care if she was a Pear or a peach. She could just be in this shadowy, foggy world. Dim lights dimmed all she had run from.
She lay in wait, despite her stubborn lip-soul for that brightness within. She lay in wait for her light. When she met him, the boy from the Rights, she hated him on sight but she knew without doubt he would be her light.


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