The machines groomed the fields, picking the harvest for the year. Kids ran and played in the fields; adults watched from the side. Laughing, the kids played until the sun went down. The hourly ring of the northern bell tower signified that it was six o’clock, which meant it was time to return home.






Around half past six the streets were empty; it was standard practice to turn in before seven. The civilians began to shower in order to prepare for dinner, which was served at half past seven. Prior to dinner the state army marched through the only, and main, Doublewide Avenue that split the city in two. Looking for stragglers (People out past seven), the army patrolled the town until dinnertime. After which the army returned to their quarters to settle in for the evening.






Dinnertime came and food was shoveled out endlessly. Each family ate within their own home; although dinner parties could be had if the council of food was warned a week before. The father always sat at the head of the table and the mother at the end; the kids sat on the sides and used no less than perfect manners. Never was seating rearranged for the civilians accepted the way it had been done since the beginning of the town. The families ate and were marry until half past eight when dinner was declared to cease; yet they could finish before if they wanted. However families always ate till dinner was over because they believed it was more acceptable to do so. After dinner the families would gather in the living room to watch the daily news. All they ever saw was the same old political, economic, and social discussions, and they were content with this information. Nothing new, yet nothing wrong.

Days would go by, seasons would go by, and people would continually live under the rigid structure they had made for themselves. They would play, eat, and socialize at the same time everyday. School would be held five times a week at the same time every day. Parents would work the same jobs their parents had, but it was their choice to do so. The civilians of this town believed they were truly happy, that they were truly free.







One day in an eighth grade history class, a young boy with brown hair and hazel eyes timidly raised his hand. The class had been reading a story of the begin days of the town, which angered the boy because they had already read this story. “Excuse me Miss but can we read of something else?” muttered the brown haired boy with hazel eyes. “Well of course little one! How about you read the stories of Tom Jackson, the town’s first President!” exclaimed the Teacher happily. The brown haired boy rolled his eyes; he had read this book before. “No. I want to read something about the times before the town. Something that is interesting and new.” said the brown haired boy with distaste. At this the class became silent because they had never heard such a thing. What was this kid talking about “before the town”? The teacher told the boy to quiet down and finish his story. Angrily the boy continued his reading, but he would not forget the hatred he had for the teacher.







That night, after the daily soccer game, the brown haired boy decided to stay out past seven. He was tired of following the same nighttime structure; the boy decided to stay out and explore the town “after hours”. He walked all the way to the amusement park in the middle of town and hid behind the employee shed where the patrols wouldn’t be able to see him. The army patrols cruised the streets but they never caught sight of the brown haired boy. After eight o’clock the boy removed himself from his hiding spot and ran to the south side of town. Ducking in and out of alleys the boy quickly made his way, stopping once to hide from a late patrol. As he got closer to the south end the boy began to smell foreign fragrances and he heard sounds that were unknown. Quietly the boy snuck towards the strange sounds, sweet dripping from his face he peered into the southern end of the city. What he saw shocked him.







The bizarre people were moving around to a strange beat, which the boy heard them call “dancing”. The brown haired boy had never seen anything quite like this so called “dancing”. He saw them eating foods he had never seen; one of which he came to know as “fish”. The boy even risked sticking around long enough to see the strange people drink some type of liquid that apparently made the people become more open and cheerful. These people seemed to enjoy themselves. They didn’t have to follow a schedule, they could talk about whatever they wanted, and they could partake in strange delicacies. The boy even heard the people talking about the times before the town. Never had the boy witnessed such a merry, yet strange procession. At first glance the people of the southern nighttime appeared to enjoy more external pleasures than the townspeople; they appeared to have true freedom. Hearing the sound of the northern bell tower, the boy left, choosing to never return.