Two unhappy figures appeared near the vending machine.
“If you think about the essence of choice, our perceptions shape our desires. Every day, we have to analyze countless little things. And perhaps, in this very moment, we are drastically different from who we were just a minute ago. It feels like the day is packed with denial.” The twin girls, the same age as the boy, in light lace hooded capes, stared at Sophia with their red eyes.
Flavuses saw better in the dark and tried to hide from the light.
One of the girls pulled back her hood, revealing a face resembling a bat, with a snout instead of a nose, and shook her blonde hair, tied in braids, with hostility.
“What's your name?” Sophia asked the boy, trying to ignore his unfriendly companions.
“Lucas,” he mumbled, yawning.
“You know, Lucas, you don't have to spend so long choosing just one chocolate bar. You can grab the first one you see. Next time, you can try the one next to it. That way, you'll always have a variety of flavors,” the girl tried to encourage him.
“I don’t know, what if I don’t like it—”
“You'll end up like a product of the apricot after a worm gets into it – There's a fine line between "I want" and "I was convinced to want this,"” the blonde girl muttered.
“The road ahead isn't short, and all that will remain is your own reflection in the glass and reflection,” the second girl countered.
“Son, there you are,” an adult woman approached them. “Sorry, he’s already started gathering a line here. What are you stalling for, Lucas?”
“Oh, it’s fine, I’m not in a hurry,” Sophia replied.
“Mom, I don’t know which chocolate bar to choose. Help me.”
“You always have the same problems,” a middle-aged man in a perfectly pressed, starched white shirt rolled his dark blue eyes.
"Great. Just what I needed – Lombask here," Sophia thought, studying his chiseled Asian features.
He looked like a Japanese man with a tall, athletic build, broad shoulders, and muscular legs. But at a certain angle, his appearance was distorted, and the man with hair as black as oil resembled a crow.
“Son, I’m not rushing you, but we still have a long way to go. We need to make it before dark. You know how your dad dislikes driving at night.”
“Then help me out, Mom.”
“Why waste so much time?” Lombask said irritably, brushing his fingers through his hair and slicing through it with his sharp, long nails. “This boy can never make a quick, well-considered decision.”