Lira stood on the edge of her family's rickety floating shack, her eyes fixed on the distant mirage of dry land. Her bulletproof, scaly skin glistened in the sunlight, a stark reminder of the evolutionary path humanity had taken. Unlike the rest of her family, she had yet to develop wings. "One day, I'll soar above all of this," she whispered to herself, clutching the necklace her mother had given her. "Lira" Her mother's shrill voice disrupted the silence, startling Lira. "Yes, mom. I'm here." Lira darted back into her home, following her mother's voice to the kitchen. "I need you to go to the store and get some more fuel. We are out" Her mother continued, lowering her voice when she saw Lira enter the kitchen. "Sure, mom." Lira grabbed the can, inwardly happy for the opportunity to leave home and maybe meet some of her friends on the way to the store. She had almost reached the door when she heard her mother yell, "Come right back, Lira. Do not linger in the store."
Lira walked briskly, swinging the can as she moved. She browsed the environs, looking for a glimpse of her friends. Lira finally reached the store. Only Mr. Mint, the store keeper, sold the fuel in their colony. More fuel could be found in the dry lands, but that journey was unforgiving, even for a grown adult. She walked quickly to Mr. Mint and timidly lifted her can as she asked for fuel. "Good morning Mr. Mint. Could I please have some fuel?" Lira's voice sounded smaller than she had intended. Mr. Mint shook his head violently, shooing her away. "Fuel is finished already" he bellowed, scrunching his face as if annoyed by her presence. Lira gasped. Not because of the dismissive response. She had experienced that all her life. Her family needed the fuel. Their shack had man-sized holes on the wall, inviting biting cold at night. They also did not have any warm coats to help battle the cold. She stepped out of the store, a look of determination on her face. She could not go home without the fuel, leaving her with no option than to make the journey to the dry lands. She knew the journey would take her half a day, and she made a mental note to be back before nightfall, so as not to worry her poor mom.
Lira stopped suddeny. A single drop of rain fell on her forhead. She looked up in time to see a huge cloud gathering in the sky. Lira clenched her fists, determination etched on her face. "I won't let the storm stop me," she vowed, her voice strong and unwavering. Her gaze drifted to a small, weather-beaten boat tied to the dock—a vessel that had once carried her father to the dry lands years ago. "I'll find a way to get fuel home," she decided, the storm within her mirroring the one brewing above. She half ran and half walked to the boat.As she approached, she could hear the boat screeching with each wave. Its rusted and feeble outlook did not bother Lira. Her father had told endless stories praising the boat's ability to weather any storm. Lira entered the boat just as the rain began to pour heavily. She sat on the remaining space, feeling thankful that she got there just in time for the boat to depart.
Old Maroswalked slowly
