Hunger and Anger are at it again. The same old argument; flogging the same dead horse.
“I don’t think Anger can cause humans to die. Whereas, if they experience me, I’m sure to kill. Q.E.D.,” rumbles Hunger, tipping his pointed nose at Anger.
Anger’s bulbous nose reddened as his veins popped. “Hogwash. I can cause arrhythmia in the cardiac vessels.”
“Children, children, stop arguing,” Empathy pipes in. “We’re all children of God. And frankly, you’re upsetting me.” Her hand flutters near her clavicle as Despair’s eyes pool over.
“I think they should duel with each other. Fight! Fight! Fight!” Mischief chimes.
Hunger and Anger face-off as others bifurcate into groups, standing behind their leaders.
Uncertainty curls her fingers around the fence. “Oh, I’m not sure about this fight. It might rock the apple cart. Or not. Oh dear, what will happen?” Her eyes rally between the two opponents.
Fairness slips into her old referee robes, and she blows her whistle as everyone quietens.
The first punch is thrown when the stranger appears. The umbrella aids her to glide gracefully onto the floor, her skirt billowing and settling. Everyone looks up mid-motion, transfixed.
There’s something fresh about her–an unknown magical quality. Her dewy skin, expressive eyes, and smiling lips hint at a Matryoshka-level layer the others cannot fathom. Yet, but they sense, under the newness of her, she hides many secrets. Many emotions, wrapped in one.
Their intent forgotten, they stare at the newbie, whose expressive eyes gaze back at them. She looks around her. “Who am I?” She tilts her head coquettishly.
More importantly, who am I? is their collective thought as they view themselves through her eyes.
“Oh, you look like a feeling to me,” another of Humour’s joke spurts like an inappropriate pimple.
Self-esteem rushes in to embrace her. “Hullo, there! I’m sure we’re going to be friends, no?” He encircles his arms with hers.
“Sure. But I’m wondering if anyone knows what am I supposed to feel?” she asks.
They return her stare with matching ones, steeped in silence. The seas of sensations part as Bookish Knowledge appears. “You, darling, are the awakening. Well, the start of awakening,” he superciliously says.
The newly christened sentiment, Arousal, bites her lip. “Are you sure? I feel I’m stepping over shifting sands. Everything inside me feels new. Unfamiliar. It hints at something elusive but retracts it almost immediately.” Uncertainty nods in understanding.
Bookish Knowledge pats on her shoulder. “You’ll evolve, darling. It starts with a spark, and then the wildfire takes over. Soon, confidence will kiss your feet.”
“But this intense tsunami feels alien to me.”
“Yes, darling, but it’s euphoric, isn’t it? It’ll eventually lead to a release.”
Arousal glows in her inimitability as the others crowd around her, drawn to her.
Meanwhile, the container of the feelings, the young human, hugs her lover as he moves in to kiss her. As his soft, pillowy lips gently wrestle with hers, a strange, muzzling emotion awakens within her.
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