The Sycophantic Streetlight Part 1
"Trying it out wouldn't be so bad." She reassured herself aloud. Heat rushed to her cheeks as the passing suspiscious glances of a mother and her child whipped her soul into a punishing embarassment.
For the first time, however, she made herself push it aside. I said nothing too weird, she thought, and they'll be calm when they get home. We'll all be calm. Just keep moving ahead. They've done much worst.
She hiked up her green, red, and white flowered skirt and walked confidentally over to the giant Streetlight.
The shallow pool is empty of the mechanical birds who would usually invade the waters, and the Mirrors that faced the Streetlight were covered by the automatic Gold Cloth system.
And yet, whatever Guard System was supposed to keep the gates closed at night must have not been updated. All three of the gates were opened, as if someone tried to close them but gave up.
There was nothing illegal about meeting the Streetlight at night. She reassured herself again. There was nothing illegal about meeting the Streetlight at all. She walked closer to the path, the lights slowly turning on to light up her path.
No one knew the real rules of the Streetlight. Everyone who had tried to make rules about the Streetlight were gone; living in another city, her mother had told her impatiently, off to go and do other things they had to do. [Followed by a strict demand of no more questions].
She pushed open the last and final rusted gates and stepped towards the lone Streetlight. The loud scratch against the ground caused her to stop. Her back went rigid and her hands lied straight against her side, like a creature caught digging through the Ritual Graves.
After about 15 minutes, no one appeared to arrest her, and she - once again- had to say the three things she always tried to remember when she went out on her own.
She was 26; a grown woman.
Her mother did not care about where she went anymore. She wasn't even around.
In fact, no one cared. Not as much as she thought, or as much she was told. The world was moving too fast, and people were going through too much of their own stories to read her own.
Unless she made them want to read it.
She relaxed her shoulders, unclenched her jaw, and walked through the open gate.
