“I was always lucky in my bad luck.” - Bohumil Hrabal

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Sunlight slowly crept on the leaves of evergreen trees swaying with the morning breeze in the City of Archage. A rush of wind plucked a few pads, brushing them off the small floating island the trees stood on. The blades swayed from side to side in midair for quite a while before finally coming to a rest on mossy bricks. 

Suddenly, they were trampled over by heavy, rushing footsteps making echoes in the desolate streets. An auburn-haired young woman sprinted ahead of two ruffians, dangerously running over small pools of water and uprooted pavements. 

“Rock. Vine. Brick. Vine. Vine. Rock.” She chanted in her head as her eyes strained to scan the road as best as she could.

She was honestly surprised at how agile she was being when suddenly, gravity yanked her down, finding herself face to face with the damp ground. 

“Ow fu-!!”

When she turned around, she found a large root sitting innocently in the middle of the road. It stretched from one of the buildings on the side, completely covered in the foot of an ancient-looking tree. It's a usual scene in this city but she would have probably seen it a mile away if she wasn’t too busy playing hopscotch. Now her hands and chin feel singed and her entire outfit is dirt couture. Mud recolored maroon boots, small runs littered on both leggings, muck smudged onto army green jacket, and to top it all off, two circular wet spots on her black shirt embarrassingly traced her breasts.

“Oh gosh, Are you kidding me? I was going to wear this again!” She whined. Her distinct Russian accent alerting her pursuant.

“There she is!” 

Her eyes went wide. She scurried desperately, in the process, getting even more dirt on her. 

As she dashed towards the plaza, wagons pulled by horses, half-assembled stalls, and wooden crates filled with different crops and products came into view. Countless peddlers busily moved about, hollering commands as they set up while entertaining the early shoppers eager to get first pick.

She knew they were close. Hoping to shake them loose, she sped up straight to the heart of the crowd. A chorus of complaints followed as she bumped into several patrons.

“Hey!”

"Sorry!"

“Watch it!”

"My bad!"

"My melons!"

She didn't know how to respond to that last one.

Two vendors were passing by, carrying a long crate blocking her path. Having no choice, she ran under the container, alarming the merchants.

The pursuers, one lanky boy ran smack onto the crate. His companion, a stunted lad with unkempt long hair veiling his eyes, accidentally snagged the rope around the container pulling its tarp off.

Then, chickens. 

Chickens of different sizes flew to the bystanders and stalls, creating pandemonium. 

Clucking and screaming ensued as customers took cover from the onslaught of pecking and feathers. Other merchants nearby caught the flightless birds in a frenzy while the others cocked rotten produce and grabbed broomsticks, hunting down the bolting punks.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry!” The girl cried in her head, guilty at causing the mayhem. She even felt bad for the guys, hearing their yowls at getting hit by high-speed pomegranates.

She unwittingly turned to a dead-end alley meeting a towering fence. Hands immediately palmed the surface for anchors. The surroundings darkened, the island floating above casting an ominous shade adding to her anxiety. 

Sounds of rushing footfalls in the distance reached her ears.

“Fudge! Fudge! Fudge!” She screamed internally, ears going deaf at the hammering on her chest.

“I saw her get in here!”

Frantic eyes finally landed on a branch of hope just as the voices grew closer and turned the corner.

The two boys inspected the trash crates and the heap of raked leaves on the side, shocked at finding the place empty.

"Damn it, Poll! We had her!!" The rangy one yelled, fisting his jagged hair in frustration. 

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In a second, The rake on the floor became splinters and dust in seconds, the nearby walls barring new scratches. Fruit-stained sleeve slid down revealing his bruised and scraped arm newly acquired from the earlier riot.

Poll flinched, hands fiddling nervously. 

"C-calm down, George. It’s okay… M-maybe we can try again at the other block?" He offered a small smile, fading immediately when sunken eyes turned to him.

His tomato blemished shirt was yanked, all of a sudden finding himself eye-to-eye with George’s dark, unmoving pools staring into his own frightened ones.

"Don’t tell me to calm down!!!” He said venomously, face bleeding pink. “We haven’t had a haul in days!! Do you have any idea what will happen if we’re empty-handed again today?!"

Poll could only shrink in fear, of course, he knew. His long hair did little to shield the continuous anger spewing at him, opting to avert his misty eyes when saw something that took a while to comprehend. 

There, halfway up the wall, clinging to a branch like a koala was their mark waving at him.

On her hand was a small pouch. She gestured with her eyes before tossing it close to the crates near the two thieves.

"Hey! hey! George look! What’s that?!" He instantly called out before his partner could notice where his attention was.

George's grip loosened when he saw the familiar leather. Quickly shaking the contents out, he cried. The green bills that caught his eye earlier at the bank and chased around half the city for, were finally in his hands.

"What... Yes!! Yess! Fucking hell!! We got it, Poll!! The stupid woman probably didn’t even notice it fall out!!"

 "Yeah!! I told you it’s our lucky day today!! Come on, let’s get out of here!!"

Poll immediately started leading George out of the alley, celebrating their loot. His eyes cautiously traveled back and forth between her friend's elated face and the woman on the wall.

He secretly turned back and sent a meaningful look, earning a small smile in return. 

The woman watched the two disappear, finally letting off the breath she was holding the moment she got up there. But just as she was about to make a move to go down, she heard the loud, unmistakable sound of cracking wood.

"Oh no." Her eyes widened, turning quickly to find the source. 

Without warning, she dropped an inch. A sizable gap appeared on the base of her branch…

“OH SHI-!" Her body dropped like a flailing bomb to the pile of leaves below, sending dead, crispy foliage scattering all over the place. A sudden gust of wind passed, taking more leaves from the island above and descending on her seemingly lifeless body. 

Death by trees. Who knew.

“Der'mo…” Black spots blurred her vision. She yelped as pain shot up her lower back and hand that bounced off the ground.

She laid there, catching a breath for the first time since waking up today. When it rains, it pours she figured. Case in point, a flock of birds started circling in the sky, eyeing her in every pass.

Death by birds. Who knew.

Rolling out slowly before she gets buried or gored to death, her eyes landed on a discarded piece of leather. There was a tiny bit of hope that maybe they left a tip for her generosity.

The optimism made her laugh.

"I guess I will be fishing the next few days." She sighed and stared at the once relatively filled pouch. That actually meant fishing. Well, illegally by the river. 

Being a naturally abundant city, you'd think anyone can just pick off fruits from a random tree, cook roaming chickens or catch overgrown fish in the rivers that literally branch out the entire country but no. Unfortunately, Archage has strict laws on bothering basically every living thing that can't talk. Ever since its unique ecosystem sprung in the middle of the dry and desolate Sahara, the archadians basically wrapped it in yellow tape. They can’t be blamed, actually. From what was reported, the state of the rest of the world is somewhat shit.

"Hey! What do you think yer doin’?!" 

A loud booming voice startled the young lady, immediately getting her scrambling to her feet. From the smiling apple print on the front of his green apron, the old, burly man was most likely the owner of the produce shop next door.

She surveyed the situation and was pretty sure it looked like she just wrestled with mother nature. 

Did she mention severe punishment was given to proven violators?

Leaves were scattered around the entire alley and sticking out of her. The contents of her bag lay scattered when the zippers gave out as she fell on it. The relatively large branch she hang onto for dear life, laid there playing the victim. It was pointing to her accusingly as if saying ‘she did it, mister!’

"Just my luck." She sighed and faced the music. 

One could argue that cleaning the alley would probably be enough but well…let’s just say she just loves helping people and said yes to everything the old man. It’s definitely not because of her illogical fear of angry people or shouting in general. She's not afraid for her life here, not at all.

That’s how half an hour later, she found herself wearing the same ‘The Happy Apple’ apron and dangling a "Keep calm and carrot on! Carrots at 20% off!" sign in front of pedestrians who in turn asked if they have apples.

Yeah, the branding is a little...

It was an hour of smiling awkwardly on the sidewalk, timidly blocking people's paths before the owner ushered a customer out and called for her, a broad smile plastered on his once scowling face.

"You, girl! Grey, was it? Thank you so much for your help this morning!" He cheered, handing over her backpack and a small canvas bag. 

"Here, a little somethin' for the road! Just don't go messin' up people's alleyways again ya hear?" The man's resounding laugh provided a comforting conclusion to the whole mess.

Grey smiled appreciatively and looked at the contents of the heavy tote.

"Ah. They do have apples."

She profusely thanked and apologized for the final time at the kind but short-tempered shop owner before waving goodbye. 

Packing the tote in her bag, she noticed a familiar glimmer. No bigger than the size of her palm was a metal plate gleaming brightly as the sunlight bounced off its shiny surface. 

If she wore this earlier, she probably would have had a better chance of steering clear of everything that happened. It is a free pass for everything. But when her eyes traveled back to the sack full of scarlet spherical freshness, she shrugged it off.

"Could be worse." 

She took one last look at her police badge before putting it safely in her pocket. She savored the refreshing morning air, momentarily shelving her crazy experience.

It was time to start anew and continue her walk to work which was what she was doing three whole hours ago before her insane detour.

Yes, she was very late.