The sound of a chime, which sounded like it came from a single source, traveled downstream to every room and hall by means of brass pipes. The waves of sound overflowed off course into our focus. The nearest outfitted J-Group worker ushered us to our next stop: lunch.

  More announcements. Winners for lottery tickets were being called. Lotteries are fake, and I don’t even belong to the City, so I tuned out instantly.

  I began to illustrate mindlessly. After a few gesture drawings, shapes began to congeal together. They formed some sort of ox. It stood on a rocky pillar, and I began to illustrate geometric pillars all around it, lighter in color.

  It was Joh again. He snuck up on us near the end of making everyone wait painstakingly long for lunch. He leaned over at me, and I swear he pushed against the back of my chair. “You’re a good artist. I can see that kind of talent from a mile away,” his baritone voice shocked me again, sending me into a vicious rage.

  “You won’t…you won’t get anywhere with flattery,” I stumbled on my words, but my gestures showed a different story. Regardless, I came off as pathetic.

  But he got the vibe I wanted him to feel. He curled what he would suggest was a warm smile, tried assuring me or whatever, and walked away. As he did, an obnoxious noise emanated from him. He hummed, and the pitch of his voice cut through everything else in the room as if it were projected straight into my head. I couldn’t concentrate until he was gone. I threw my head in Rebecca's direction with the deadest expression ever seen.

  She took a moment, pretending to process what she was about to say. She made a high pitch giggle. “We’re probably thinking the same thing but there’s too much attention on us,” she said. I slowly nodded.

  Rebecca led the next topic as we got up to receive lunch: “It smells like they’re giving us a wider selection this time,” and she caught her breath before a small giggle.

  I bumped into her while we walked towards the line. “Yeah well, when nearly everything but the streets themselves are edible, you’d think being creative comes easily,” was what cryptic response I gave.

  She gave a curious but toothy smirk. “You know, there’s a line between the food you’re meant to eat and the food you’re meant to have to annoy, right?” She asked.

  “Back up, I’m lost, I don’t think I know what you actually mean,” I changed tones.

  “You’ve…have you…you’ve seen a pet before, right? Like, a cat, dog, or some other silly creature made to pet?” She asked.

  Distracted, I grabbed whatever from the food line. Whatever others got, I got as well. After one of J-Group’s staff counted my meal, they said something as a gesture of kindness, and I gave a fake smile.

  I shook my head. “I’ve seen animals before, but nothing that I should lay my hands on. I guess it would make sense that some people have a sense of attachment since these are living things. I feel like interacting with someone’s living possession is more of an intimate experience, though,” implying that I hadn’t decided to get into an intimate zone with anyone. “I’m assuming you want to rave about what you own?” I ask with a cat-like smile.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  We sat right next to each other. We weren’t the last, nor the first. She scrunched up, shrugging with a devious smile.

  “Yes, I have a cat. Her name is Marge,” she said, holding her breath in the hope of my next question.

  “Is that cat…a cute little cat?” I gave a small dance for emphasis.

  “She’s not very smart,” Rebecca said as if she were fawning over her own child. Then, she laughed uncontrollably.

  “Do you just feed her stupid pills or something?” I said as if Rebecca had three heads…or something.

  “No, it was the store owner. I got her from the stupid store,” She said.

  “And…would you like to elaborate upon what they sell at the stupid store?” I asked.

  She hesitated. It was like she was holding her breath, trying not to explode. “Stupid things,“ She peeped and now laughed even harder, somehow. I joined in.

  The conversating stick was thrown around relatively naturally between the group. Banter, life updates, plans, and the like were freely shared among the group. I noticed I had an easy time integrating what others were saying by means of Rebecca’s engagement, or sometimes lack thereof. If they didn’t listen to me, they’d listen to her. If I couldn’t hear them, she would get them closer to her pitch via gesture, replying with context to fill in what gaps I missed, talking over them, or overall bending the group to her equalizing will.

  After an indiscernible amount of time, one got up.

  As they talked, I had some of the seeds, meat, bread, and vegetables I was served. I was listening intently, eyes able to follow who was talking.

  “Spirit Fest has been really putting its act together. I heard they started advertising outside of Y group’s territory. It looks like they got the resources, too,” one of the girls said.

  “I’m really excited to see where they go. We haven’t heard much about what the red horse represents, and I feel like they’re onto something with it,” Rebecca said.

  “I almost want to give it some time, wait it out, come back to it later for new developments. This could be a situation where you just let time go by,” another girl pointed out.

  “Say Ishmael, you looked pretty invested learning about it. Think you’re a master on the subject now?” one asked me.

  I smirked. “Well, I only know what I know. Really, I don’t think I know much of anything. I thought there were some neat ideas going on,” I went on.

  “Aren’t you sort of an outsider, too? What do you think when looking from the outside in?” they asked.

  I gave a little ‘X’ motion with my hands. I don’t think I’m cut out as some sort of expert and said: “I don’t really know, like, enough of any of it yet. I feel like I need to do some hard reading. I feel like I’ve seen some of those designs before, one with a flaming bow, another holding a whip with scales and horns, and such. Maybe there’s a crossover, but maybe it’s all just a coincidence,” I honestly felt more like something spoke to me. I’ve seen symbols that match a few times now, but I’m not sure if I’m the only one seeing it. Rebecca? Most likely. I haven’t asked her, though, and I really want to.

  One of the guys looked straight into me, and his mouth moved like a ventriloquist doll for a moment, saying: “Well, we already know the ox has his weaknesses: porous, otherwise slowly letting others seep into his spirit. He knows his soul lacks energy, natural fuel & fire as if saying: ‘A quart of wheat for a denarius, and three quarts of barley for a denarius.’ Don’t think putting up walls will stop the inevitable. We’re sure the sludge will overtake the salt.” He returned to the conversation with the others as if nothing happened.

  Without making noise, I freaked. My body exploded like a bubble popping, heart rate like a burning poison, weakness spreading throughout my limbs, ears ringing, dizziness taken over. I looked to Rebecca, who caught on as well. She looked as shaken as I was. It took a minute, focusing only on each other in hopes the rest of the group would ignore us, and, at the very least, I returned to equilibrium.

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