Every day we're standing in a time capsule
Racing down a river from the past
Every day we're standing in a wind tunnel
Facing down the future coming fast
-Turn the Page, Hold Your Fire, Rush
Lirssa stood in her room examining the uniform she wore and fussed with its fit. Fingers wiggled and tugged at pockets temporarily stitched closed so they would be open again. Dante sat behind her, looking at her in the mirror with a tilt of his head, fashion critic in canine form. "Four more days." It sent a pulse of nervousness down into her stomach. She lurched for her messenger bag, the one Miss Eva and Mister Mason gave her last year, and snatched out the tablet to look over her class list and the books, making sure they were all correct for the twentieth time.
"Maybe," she looked up to Dante from the table, "I can convince my parents to just let Papa teach me how to fly, and skip all the rest of that stuff." Even Dante did not look hopeful, and he almost always had a cheerful disposition about him. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Much rather face that pack of dogs that broke my leg than school."
Packing up the tablet again, she then changed out of her school uniform into her motley. It was just comforting to wear it, even if she was not going to go out and perform. The cloth, though new for her birthday, had history to it, passed down from the other motleys. She curled up on the floor with Dante. "What if I'm horrible at it' What if I can't pay attention like the other schools" What if I get in a fight' I wonder what punishment there is gonna be like." Lirssa simply took it as a given she was going to get in trouble at some point. She always had at every school before. That just made her even sicker.
When they had visited, there had been some recognition and preference given to her father. If she should shame him and Maman' Lirssa wanted to throw up. No, she wanted to run away. Curling up even more, her face to the floor, arms drawn in to her stomach, she closed her eyes and planned the escape. Better to flee than shame them so.
"Snicker-snack!" chimed out from the miniature her, swinging the vorpal blade.
Lirssa bolted upright, and saw Dante push his nose to the button again. "Snicker-snack!"
With a choking laugh, Lirssa got to her feet, hugged Dante and then raised her hand. "I'll take on the jabberwocks!? She was, afterall, wearing her motley. Drama was called for. She had a mission, a role to play, and monsters to slay. Four more days.
Lirssa stood in her room examining the uniform she wore and fussed with its fit. Fingers wiggled and tugged at pockets temporarily stitched closed so they would be open again. Dante sat behind her, looking at her in the mirror with a tilt of his head, fashion critic in canine form. "Four more days." It sent a pulse of nervousness down into her stomach. She lurched for her messenger bag, the one Miss Eva and Mister Mason gave her last year, and snatched out the tablet to look over her class list and the books, making sure they were all correct for the twentieth time.
"Maybe," she looked up to Dante from the table, "I can convince my parents to just let Papa teach me how to fly, and skip all the rest of that stuff." Even Dante did not look hopeful, and he almost always had a cheerful disposition about him. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Much rather face that pack of dogs that broke my leg than school."
Packing up the tablet again, she then changed out of her school uniform into her motley. It was just comforting to wear it, even if she was not going to go out and perform. The cloth, though new for her birthday, had history to it, passed down from the other motleys. She curled up on the floor with Dante. "What if I'm horrible at it' What if I can't pay attention like the other schools" What if I get in a fight' I wonder what punishment there is gonna be like." Lirssa simply took it as a given she was going to get in trouble at some point. She always had at every school before. That just made her even sicker.
When they had visited, there had been some recognition and preference given to her father. If she should shame him and Maman' Lirssa wanted to throw up. No, she wanted to run away. Curling up even more, her face to the floor, arms drawn in to her stomach, she closed her eyes and planned the escape. Better to flee than shame them so.
"Snicker-snack!" chimed out from the miniature her, swinging the vorpal blade.
Lirssa bolted upright, and saw Dante push his nose to the button again. "Snicker-snack!"
With a choking laugh, Lirssa got to her feet, hugged Dante and then raised her hand. "I'll take on the jabberwocks!? She was, afterall, wearing her motley. Drama was called for. She had a mission, a role to play, and monsters to slay. Four more days.