"It must be odd for you to lay on the ground."
Emerelda laughs, "Oddly enough I've always wanted to do so but never seem to get the chance too."
Luther wipes the tears from his cheeks, "He always does this to us, my father. When we were stressed he'll simply take us all by the hand and out the garden to lie down and relax. He relaxes too well causing him to sleep." Luther watched the lonely cloud that trailed behind the others, "He was always doing something great for us."
"How did you get adopted, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Oh," Luther thought back when he was a child, "In England. It was clear I was a son of a slave as most people my skin tone were slaves. No, majority of them. " Luther felt the hate on how those shades darer were treated, it was inhumane.
