———————Chapter One ——————
———Wednesday, July 11th, 2305 ———
———A Fine House in the Suburbs ———
"I love you grandma!" The thirteen-year-old girl with shining blonde hair smiles brightly. She pulls a tray of double-fudge brownies out of the oven. The soft yellows and folds of the kitchen around them smell like cinnamon and lime. A fountain takes up one wall, water pouring over thin tubes of neon lights.
"Oh you're absolutely welcome sweetheart. I hope you like them. It's an old recipe. Very old. Of course it's been updated over the years to keep it fresh. But the core of it is as old as our family itself." The woman, with brown and gray hair and winged eyeliner surrounding her eyes, smiles back. Full of affection for the young girl.
"I don't think I'll ever be able to make them quite like you do though grandma. And since this is such a family recipe I feel bad." Her eyes are a bit wide. She's not down on herself, no, but she's definitely pretending to be.
"Aww there's nothing to feel bad about sugarcane. I'll be around for a while longer. A long while. And I'll make you all the brownies your heart desires." The blue glitter lining her eyelids twinkles with her smile.
"Why are you so nice?! These smell so good though." There is excitement in her voice as she opens up her hoverboard, the sleek, flat, dark blue little disk buzzing a bit before suctioning onto her shoes and then lifting a few inches into the air, smoothly gliding into the spacious dining room. Her grandmother follows her, on a lime green hoverboard that has railings for her to hold onto. They settle down on one of the many plush chairs as the table adjusts to their specific heights.
They turn on the television and flick through channels until it is set to a drawing competition. The three-dimensional images of colourful and cheery people working on colourful and cheery images of their own spark to life as the three-dimensional surround-sound of talking fills the air.
"This sounds good, what do you think Anne-Marie?"
"Grandma what the heck. It's boring!"
"Nonsense. So much fine skill goes into their work and they create beautiful things. When I first met your grandfather, it was at an advanced artistic summer camp oh
so many years ago. He was blown away by my drawings. He said they were almost as beautiful a as I was. Pay attention, you'll see that there's a lot more to see than you think at first."
"That's such a sweet story. I've heard it before but it's so sweet. Your drawings are still breathtaking grandma."
"Thank you Anne-Marie. I do really love drawings."
And-Marie pauses to think for a little bit, her face filmed in concentration.
"Ika has the same staight and precise hand that you do, doesn't she?"
"Of course she does. Do you think that's something I was about to neglect?"
"I know, I know. I trust you Grandma. But I just want to be sure." There is a hint of worry in her cheery voice.
"Well you can see for yourself." The woman pushes a sleek button on the side of the table, and a microphone swiftly slides down from a compartment on the roof.
"Ika come to the living room!" She barks out in a voice like half-molten rock. "And get your sketch pad and pencils."
They continue talking for a few minutes, biting into the warm, soft, chewy brownies.
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