Scarce

The Night With A Sun

The day was no hotter than a regular summer day. The sun was rather large, though, given the fact that it was 10:30 P.M. Aurra realized that a long time ago, way before she laid her big, hazel eyes on the bright summer sky. She had seen it, she had felt it, she knew. Today was the day. Perhaps that's the reason to all this changes. She though. Or maybe it's the other thing.

Surprisingly, people were not outside. They all seemed to be asleep. But who would sleep though such a phenomenon? The night had a sun! For God's sake.

She passed by the bakery. The famous Miss. Grace's Bakery. She despised her. It had been just weeks ago she was looking through the delicious cupcakes, sprinkled with pink sprinkles and covered in chocolate frosting, when Miss. Grace walked towards her, and looked at her as though she would contaminate the cakes.

"What is someone of your kind doing inside my shop?" She asked. Her fat, blushed cheeks moved along with her lips as she talked, and her skin seemed to be trying to escape the arms of her yellow apron,"Your creators won't feed you, hu?" She asked, with a hand on her hip.

Aurra looked confused.

My creators? She though. Aurra glanced at Miss. Grace. Then stood up.

"My creators?" She asked.

"Don't act like you know nothing, you Trush!" She barked.

Trush, she then learned, was their form of offensive language. It was their word of an invaluable, useless, and different person. Someone to fear. Though Miss. Grace showed every feeling possible, but fear.

The thing is, they did fear, they feared everything. Because they didn't like change. But they also disliked looking simple and vulnerable. So they hid their fear with a four letter word, trush, and, as you can see, bad manners. And by "they' I am speaking about The Natural ones. The powerless ones. And even thought that, they seemed to have all the power.

For now.