The hot noonday sun struck the reflective glass windows on Rising Sun Apartments. Four kids squinted up at the windows, shielding their eyes from the glare. Four kids were resigned to live a boring life. Four kids followed their parents up to their new homes, and unpacked. Four already-bored kids went out to the supermarket.
Stephen Greenbane made his way over to the tiny, brown-haired girl, his hands shoved in the pockets of his blue windbreaker.
"New here?" he asked. She turned around with a warm smile and nodded.
"You?"
"Just moved in today. I'm on my way to the supermarket."
"Oh! Me too. Want to go together?"
"Sure." They set off to the supermarket. The street was quiet, and only a few cars chugged past slowly.
"Stephen Greenbane." Stephen spoke again, to fill the almost eerie silence.
"Isadora Moonwood." the tiny girl replied, checking a list of paper. Likewise, Stephen pulled a list out of his pocket. Silence rebounded. They walked in silence for a while, but as they neared the supermarket, they heard voices behind them.
"Sergei?" a girl's voice spoke.
"Yeah?" a deeper voice answered.
"Uh, what's tripe?" the girl sounded dubious.
"Do you really want to know?"
"I have to buy it, so yes."
"It's an edible meat sort of food that comes from the lining of animal's stomachs."
"Oh, gross."
"Pretty much." The boy answered. The voices were getting closer. Then-
"Oh, hi!" the girl said, peeking round at Stephen. He jumped a little, then grinned.
"Hey."
"Hi!" Isadora waved. A tall boy caught up with them.
"Never seen you three around here, so you must be new. The name's Sergei Flintsinger. Official resident of Rising Sun Apartments. I already know that Petrova here," he indicated the girl he'd just been chatting with, "Is new to Rising Sun. What about you guys?" he asked.
"Yeah, both of us are new. We're on the way to the supermarket. I'm Stephen Greenbane, and this is Isadora Moonwood." Isadora flashed a grin at Sergei and Petrova. Petrova inclined her head at both of them. Sergei nodded, then halted all of them at the corner.
"Turn right here." The group turned, and they saw a grocery store. Taking the lead, Sergei confidently led them inside.
Rows of packaged food stretched far out, beyond their eye's reach. Bins of brightly colored fruits and vegetables were situated at the front of the store. Along the right wall there was a delicatessen, various raw-meat stalls, a fish store, and a bakery. Grabbing baskets, the children filed behind Sergei, who led them around the store, talking constantly as they grabbed vegetables, fruit, bread and meat. With Sergei's efficient accompaniment, the groceries were paid for and packed in no time. As they went back up the street, they were laughing and talking freely, having opened up to one another. As they passed an alley, a dark figure darted out of it, tossing a handful of dust all over the four children. As they sputtered and blinked, he disappeared.