'Coincidencial'

Now at age nine, I had began to notice things about the way other people perceive you. My uncle, quite the grump I tell you, spent hours endeavoring at his work at the Hospital of Liberia always looking for new genetic formulas. That is all he would ever mumble to our small humble family about his work. Apparently it was confidential. I had always been called Abby Norman, the freak at school, but I never took it to heart. "Why is it that we all have the same color eyes and nobody is ever blind like it was in 2020 Uncle? You're the genius here". In response? I heard the choir of crickets, the hibernation of a mouse. Maybe this is what created my curiosity, just the fact that I had no answers made frustration boil inside of my nine-year old body. My best friends were the ones who visited me at night, however they never showed their faces, appearance wasn't an object to them. They counted tales about their majestic old land they had until a few years ago. They told of their homes with an aroma of honey and sugar, infant creatures frolicking among the whipped periwinkle clouds, and all their experiences. I thought it was somewhat peculiar how they wore no clothing and had no currency or law system but then I realized I sounded like my old uncle and was repulsed.