Allice in Mysterious Land (ON HOLD)

1: Life-changing

Starting the day with the new mayor's face posing from each corner might be prideful for other citizens... but me.

As I cycle through the dozing city, glinting boards overhead and holographic figures on the sidewalk take turns on distracting me. Even the skyscrapers, still in their dark forms, display his smirking face on their entrances, like he's their mascot. His meaningful gaze suffocates my lungs like a curling snake. Without the abundant plants and flowers at each building and their refreshing scents, I won't be able to pedal any further.

Jorge Zaragoza. Why should he rule Dogson City? He never deserves the throne, after everything he's done.

Unlike the previous mayors, Jorge can't be a puppet. Which makes him more dangerous.

What will happen to Dogson after the scientist-turned-mayor leads?

When I reach Daily Dose's office, rows of bicycles are already parked. The building is bustling with life as workers stream in with lopsided glasses and rashly-combed hair, scurrying past a stand with faded awning and a horde of lining men. I set aside all thoughts of Jorge and scamper to the stand. It doesn't take long for their buzzing voices to trigger my cringe.

"Like I said, he's an excellent choice. How many times should I convince you, Jules?" A skinny, mustard-lipped man sneers at the burly man behind him. Adjusting the newspapers under his armpit, he continues, "He might bring a good difference to us Lowlifes."

"You heard what happened to the Worke couple," Mr. Jules booms out before his eyes flicker to me, shame evident from his blush. "Uh, sorry, Allice."

I slightly nod before making my way to the line. The chatters continue even after a few couriers, including Mr. Mustard-Lips, have left. After Mr. Jules' remark, several eyes linger on me, fearing my wrath.

Not that I still have any.

A burst of chuckle slaps my ears awake. "Why, if it isn't the poor, little boy. How far can you read already?"

I heave a silent breath, refusing to retort. Without Mr. Grease-Hair's comments, my life might be too peaceful for anyone's liking.

As if my life is that peaceful already.

"Stop harassing him." Mr. Jules scowls as he leaves the line with a bundle of newspapers. "It won't get you anywhere."

"But it gets him somewhere, Jules. My daily comments must motivate him. Right?" A bone-cracking slap lands on my shoulder blades.

Thank God, it's my turn already. Mr. Alvaro, Daily Dose's distributor, stares at me with a wrinkled nose, like I'm a worm under his shoe. In his hands are loads of newspapers, still smelling like ink. I accept them with giddy arms.

"Remember," he says, "don't mess up your deliveries." Just like every other day. But before I turn on my heel, he continues, "Sales are booming after Dogson knows how our new mayor loves newspapers. They're returning to the ancient way as well. Live up to our reputation, boy."

The bickering men immediately plunges into ceasefire.

"He works twice as hard as you men." A ghostly smile creeps on Mr. Alvaro's lips, nearly infecting me with it. "Even if he's illiterate, like Mick said, he remembers the addresses—and people's references—in more detail than us all."