The Fraction

“Clop, clop, clop, clip, clop, clop, clop, clip,” it’s all I hear it as I'm walking down the streets. It's the sound of the ladies’ high heel shoes behind me. All that I want to do is to yell at them to walk a little quieter, but I know not to make a big scene. They wouldn't stop if I asked in the politest manner there is, and I know that if I were to make a scene then I would be reprimanded by someone, whether them or a man. The men are always swarming the street and when they see something like that they always report it to the fraction. The fraction hates the people like me, they let us live so we can do the trivial task, the ones that they don't want to do.

By the time I'm done talking myself down I’m at the corner of the street where I must turn. I see that there are some fliers on the wall I quickly go over and read all of them. One is for a local pizza shop and other is a cut out from the newspaper. It was an article about the new rule the chancer of the fraction has just decreed. He’s making all of us where specific clothing to represent our station. It won’t be in place until the 122^nd day, but it will make it all the easier for people to target me and others.

Once I’m done and start heading on my way again I see that there is a little girl headed towards me maybe seven in age, I know that she can’t understand the fraction and all the rules that they have. She is carrying a brown bag and a long baguette. Her mother must have sent her out and given her at least ∉7. I can see it in her face she wants to talk to me. Curiosity is in her eyes she wants to understand, but the real question is what she wants to understand. Will she fall blindly in line with what the fraction says or like all children untouched by their knowledge will she see the humanity in all of us.

Once she reaches me I can clearly see her dark brown wool jacket and shirt. She has short hair and then goes to push some back behind her ear, probably trying to gain the nerve to talk to me. Then she said, “Hello, my name is Boudica… Why do people say that you are bad?”