The Divergent Runner Games

By: tobiaseaton’skitten29247

Update: Sorry for the late update! My (68F) daughter (37F) just gave birth to my sixth grandson (0M)! I also got hit by a car.

There is only one mirror in my house, which I use to gaze into my violet orbs. My mother brushes my hair—too hard, mind you—and uses that nasty apple smelling detangler.

“Are you ready for the cilantro ceremony, sweetheart?”

Let me tell you something about the world I live in. We are separated into two factions: people who think cilantro tastes like soap, and people who don’t.  There’s many ways you can divide the world: people who like mint and those who hate it, those with cats and those without. It’s always a matter of having something or not having it. I enjoy cilantro, and the ceremony today will only prove it.

I gaze in the mirror and observe my body. I am lithe, petite, and average enough for the teenage reader to project on, but I still hate myself. When I turn to the side, I become a two dimensional object. That’s how thin I am. But oh, I’m so clumsy! How will any of the boys love me??!!1?

Anyway, I went to the ceremony and they put us all at a table in a completely white room. They fed us cilantro out of their hands (like a horse) and asked us what we thought. Egads! Perchance! Mine tasted like soap, but I LIKED it! I couldn’t tell them about my sweet, sweet divergence, otherwise they’d shoot me in the face. I told them I liked it and that it was so devoid of soap it resembled a Redditor, so now I’m all cilantro 4 lyfe. 

At the base for people sorted into Hufflepilantro we played cilantro themed capture the flag. It’s like regular capture the flag, except instead of goals or teams everyone just sits around and eats cilantro. I would’ve been good at it, if not for my intense clumsiness. I tripped over my own shoes and broke my skull clean into three pieces. Yeouch! Luckily, two hunky, aged 30+, presumably straight men helped me up! They looked like exact carbon copies, like that one scene from Inside Out, except one had blonde hair and the other brown. The brown haired boy looked like a childhood friend, and the blonde one had PIERCINGS so you know he’s badass.

“I can feed you cilantro,” Brown Hair whispered.

“Oh yea? I can GROW you cilantro!” Blonde Hair danced.

Oh fuck! How can I choose!???!!?!?11?!!! I could feel my cobwebbed sixty-eight year old kitty perk up.

“Oh yea, I forgot to tell anyone, my special interest is blowing up corrupt governments,” Blonde Hair ejaculated. He pushed a button, and in the distance a mushroom cloud rose. Wow, we all saved the day! Everyone said this, knowing that Blonde Hair did all the work. Justice for Blonde Hair. Oh, he and Brown Hair also fucked that one time.