It wasn’t an easy thing for a Bottom-Feeder to achieve Topper status. Most born to the Lower Gradients remained in the dank shadows of the towers, foraging for what could be found.
But Bronson never took the easy route. Not in birth, where his footling position had almost killed his mama and had left him only one usable hand. Not in growing, when he was often the last to be fed and the first to be beaten. Not in young adulthood, when he decided that wit and perseverance would have to do what his physique could not.
He lurked. He flattered. He kept abreast of Toppers’ visits to the LG’s for the vices, and used his nonthreatening appearance to offer guidance, and sometimes, services.
When Lorena’s ankle broke on twisted pavement, he lent a shoulder, led her home, and stayed. Life was better at the Tops, even as a pet.
For Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge
That is an interesting culture you so deftly describe 🙂
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Yes, a bit of a reality of how hierarchies are something that’s been reality – in one way or the other – over millennia, and are difficult to get rid of … And how they can rear their heads up at any time if we do not stay vigilant. Glad you liked it!
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Yep 🙂
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🙂
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This was brilliant! I was stuck and finally decided to let it go…
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“Let it go, Let it go…”
(sorry, ear-worm day from my neighbor …) 😉
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You…
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What???? (putting on naive face)
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Imma wash that face…
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LOL!!!!
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