Sweltering. The only word I can use to describe it. The steady flow of bodies collide with each other making it hard to do anything. The putrid odor drifts on the breeze and it's hard to bear. Heavenly rays slip through the gaps in tattered market shelters casting rainbows on fresh puddles in paving stones, it would be beautiful if not for the hundreds of feet trampling them. I can't complain too much. It's last Friday, pay has come in and for some reason the people of Mossdale love some fresh fruit. On a normal day you could mingle and chat with the keepers but not now. Watching the hordes emerge from their various places of business is strangely satisfying, it's like clockwork to the minute.
The god rays only get more intense as time ticks on so I decide to make a move and get out of here. I feel as if I'm being crushed by the masses as I slip into the wall of flesh and follow the current flowing downstream. Out of the corner of my eye I could swear I saw an apple floating, almost as if God himself had graced it and granted it the gift of ascendance. It's too late for a double take, by the time I blink the stall is out of view, my eyes must just be seeing things again. That happens a lot here. As I let the current pass me around I can appreciate the beauty and charm of this town, the rainbow of canvas overhead defending us all in-case of a slight drizzle and the smiles and laughter that fills the air. On a usual day the atmosphere is as good as it sounds.
I want to squeal as an unseen force grabs my wrist and tugs me against the flow. I know it would be foolish and just make me look weird, nobody would hear me over the hustle and bustle so I wait until I exit the flow. It strangely hurts, squeezing through the smallest of gaps, violating social space left, right and center leaving confused men and women in my wake, I hear a few heys and watch its but it's too late to apologize as I'm reeled in to whichever creep wants me this bad. To my surprise there is no mysterious stranger at the end of the line but instead a beaming lad. I don't see his hand on my wrist but instead in his ocean blue jeans pockets. If he catches my perplexed look through his stupid grin he doesn't say so. His face falls into its neutral expression like I've missed a punchline to a joke or something but he talks nevertheless.
"Sorry, just didn't know how else to get your attention in there" he lowers his head in apology so low i think he might bow
"A simple hi would have sufficed!'' I snap without realizing it, something in me doesn't forgive him, so I just tell it to him straight and try not to hurt his feelings.
"Sorry I didn't mean to come across like that. you shouldn't just grab me like that, or anyone for that matter"
He looks sorry enough so I'll let him off with that for now. He waits for a little over a few seconds before moving on, I'm almost offended that he doesn't take me seriously but it's whatever, he never has. I don't know where we are walking to and if I had to guess, neither does he. Harry and I do this a lot, there isn't much exciting going on in town right now, (there never is) so we just talk the day away about the cute girl he saw or we have heated debates about anime or other crap. We have known each other for a while. I, despite being relatively out going, never had any real luck making friends so I just floated through school, a jelly fish in the sea of education. About halfway through secondary school Harry Smith decided to chat me up, at first it was fun to play along and watch him try so hard but I couldn't lead him on forever as funny as that would have been. He never even got past first base and somehow we have managed to stay friends ever since. He's a kind lad with prospects of fame and fortune, he wants to get out of here and get his own fan-club or girls that will follow him up and down the country. Unfortunately he has no talent whatsoever. I'm perplexed by the three members already in his fan-club here in Mossdale. I know he's kind of cute, not my type personally but still. It would break their little hearts to know how he feels about them so I keep it to myself. Apparently they're not 'cute' enough. Shallow bastard.
YOU ARE READING
Pastel Sunshine
ActionJoanne Joane is only 18 and lives in a small town called Mossdale. She spends her days just enjoying life, more than happy to let it pass her by with her best friend Harry. All that comes to a conclusion with one venture outside their dainty town. A...
