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High School Hel - Part Two
"Okay, so that will be three then?" the man behind the counter asked.
"Just one," Hel responded.
"We're here to carry stuff and for moral support," Marsha explained.
Hel didn't respond to Marsha's comment as the toy came out and was placed on the counter in front of her. She pulled out her debit card and turned it over to the cashier while she leaned her weight against the counter and hugged the toy to her possessively.
"Okay, there you are," the man said with a smile that strained a little as he got a good look at Hel.
"I'll take that," Marsha said in a friendly tone as she noted Issa hesitating to suggest doing that.
"I can carry tha " Hel started to protest.
"No, you can't," the other girl said. "So let's go somewhere and you can open it."
"I'll open it in the dorm room," Hel grumbled as Marsha took the bag and they started out of the toy store. "I can't open it here without breaking the box."
"Where's the fun in that?" Marsha wondered.
High School Hel - Teaser
Hel woke up in her bed to the sound of Marsha slamming their door on the way to the showers. A brief look to the desk at her side showed that it was around six thirty in the morning. To clarify, it was around six thirty on a Sunday morning. The one day out of the week for which they had no classes at all. She should have been able to have another three hours of sleep before having to wake up.
As usual, once she was awake, she was Awake. Still she remained quiet and immobile on her bed, purposefully closing her eyes. Closing her eyes didn't help, she had to pretty much hold them closed or else they opened to stare off at the wall lying there awake and not wanting to be. Some had said that she was a morning person based on how early she often woke up. It was more that her sleep was fragile, just like everything else about her.
Briefly, she made an effort to flex her left leg and then her left hand.
ViolinI remember the day
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
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