It was raining cats and dogs, right up until the pills kicked in. With alarming celerity the helpless animals were pulled, shrunk, contorted until they became regular raindrops. Ben was relieved. The thought of the little dogs and cats getting hurt when they hit the ground made him anxious.
Ben was often anxious, but they gave him a pill for that. He also noticed a lot more things than some people did, but there was a pill that made him as oblivious as everyone else. They had a lot of pills for Ben, pills to make him do some things and pills to keep him from doing others. Ben always took his pills.
He was a good boy, everyone told him so. They only gave him the pills to make him better, they told him. If he was so good, Ben wanted to know, why would they want him to be better? What was better than good? They laughed at that, the new ones. The old ones knew that Ben meant what he said. Earnest, one of them called him. Ben had no idea which one was Ernest. If they were seeing people who weren't there, Ben had pills they could borrow.
Not even the new ones laughed then.
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