An autumn morning reaches out with bony fingers, grasping towards a city that sits, waiting on its haunches, silent and still. The picturesque young men, women, and children all start waking to another immaculate day with shining faces and bright eyes .The gleaming grass, bedecked with jewels of dew and sunlight, shivers, while the lustrous blooms tremble and the water flees down the fountains. Nothing withers within the city of Novus. All is youthful, healthy and vivacious. All is perfect.

The people start gathering in the cobblestone streets in lively clusters, reaching out with soft, smooth hands. They call out in melodious voices adorned with laughter and euphoria. It hurts my ears.

“Good day to you, Miss!”
“What a wonderful morning. You look as splendid as ever.”
“Hello, hello! Where’s your wife?”
“Cecilia! How’s your baby girl doing?”

Do you hear the delight? The bliss? The ecstasy? Oh! There - did you hear that? The church bells are ringing: one, two, three! The number changes everyday. Some days they do not ring at all. And yet today they decided to ring them: for the pleasure of the citizens, the mistaken ones, the fooled ones, predict. Oh – don’t mind me. Look! What a breathtaking city! Everyone is flawless: no wrinkles on the satin dresses or graying, fading colors on the crisp suits. The faces of the children glow with elation. Let’s follow that one – right there! The one in the dark dress with her platinum hair in pigtails. Look at how she runs through the meadow in the park, grasping for the fragrance of cherry blossoms and orange spices, of festering lies and running sores. Can you see what she is searching for? No? Neither can I.

The magnificent buildings and monuments tower above one another, on their toes, straining to outgrow their neighbors. Some have hypnotizing spirals while others boast elaborate marble pillars and carvings; do you see them? They only succeed in blocking the warm sun and free sky from the city. Oh – wait. Something is happening, I tell you. What is she doing? I think her name was Cecilia; she is rushing into her house in a frenzy. A shriek rips out of her throat in pure panic; I instinctively cover my ears. Do cover your ears as well!

“Late, late! I can’t believe it! The most important day of my life and I’m late!” Cecilia rushes about the house, patting on powder here and there, smearing on lipstick, and flipping through countless dresses at a blurring speed. Little does the woman know that she has no need to beautify herself. Red? No, she shakes her head vigorously. Gray? Ha! She wrinkles her nose. I agree. How drab. Yellow! Yes, there we go. The lacy dress is slightly wrinkled, though. But there is nothing we can do about that now. Nothing at all.

I feel the blistering heat of her imagination as she attempts to predict what will happen today. A hurtle of emotions barrel past behind her eyes: hope for a pill that keeps her young and wrinkle-free, pride that she has finally reached thirty, and anticipation for a birthday banquet. Doubt then suddenly fogs her eyes; has she managed to break free? Does she know now why her husband disappeared? Can she – no. Another torrent of bliss has already hauled her under yet again. It is foolish of me to hope. Keep watching. There’s another one! Let’s follow him!

“Dallan! Dallan darling! Are you ready? Hurry!” Oh, goodness. This one’s late too. Let’s be patient, shall we?

“Yes, Julie. Almost.” The man turns this way and that before the mirror, looking for any pieces of lint on his suit. There are none, but I spy some graying patches from frequent wear. There – yes. You can see them too, right? Nothing can be done about those. The yellow star will point him out. His gaze skips back to the mirror. The sickeningly sugared scent of sheer ecstasy creeps through the room just as his excitement implodes. I cover my mouth with both hands as Dallan does a little tap dance as if he was still a child. Oh, don’t you laugh as well! He is a doomed soul today.

That’s one more, making the number two already. Cecilia and Dallan are finally thirty; they must now be heading to The Center. I wonder what surprises await them. Why don’t I know, you ask? Weren’t there others who tuned 30? Yes, of course. But it’s a surprise. You’ll see soon enough, unfortunately. Oh – wait. One more?

Ah. This one might be different. Do you see Maya hovering before the door of her house? She wars with heavy doubt, suspicion, and wariness as they fill her with dread; she knows of the prowling wickedness in Novus. Do you? No? Let’s continue watching.

“They took your husband, parents, and relatives, Maya. Don’t forget. Never forget,” she mutters to herself. She’s scaring me; hold my hand, will you?

“They’re too senseless to notice. Bliss chokes them and their sense.” She’s shaking her head, as if attempting to clear it. “You tried to tell them, enlighten them. You did. It’s not your fault.” Her eyes flicker with smoldering revulsion. Avoiding the full-length mirror in the foyer, she steadies herself, and slips past the door. It clicks shut behind her, brushing her back in soft farewell.

Look at them! How exultant they are. Cecilia and Dallan are exchanging stories of their youth. Oh, but do you see the wise one on the side? A wooden marionette being tugged. Left, right, left, right. Move your arms, bend your knees, lift your legs. Off you go.

The Center looms before them, waiting impatiently for the next batch. Although the chill seeps in slowly as the three move past the archway, two of them are dull enough to still have no idea what comes next. The pills will kill; they always have. No, not again. Please, not again. Save them – I beg of you. No, no. Too late: it’s already happening. As always, their bodies are falling to the floor, abandoned dolls. Thud. Thud. Thud? No? Only two fell.

Where is the third? Do you see her? There! Over there! Are there wrinkles on her outfit? Graying patches from excessive wear? I don’t know – don’t ask! She is too blinding as she runs! Much too dazzling! Go! Through the archway of the city of Novus! Yes! Free, free, free!

I shall follow. And you?