My last post was about something that dates back to around seven years ago, but this one is only about three.
The same girl, that much older now - the same, yet different. She waits nervously to one side of the school hall, hoping fervently to be sorted into that class. She isn't paying much attention to anything or anyone around her save that teacher reading out the names. Damn you, hurry it up already!
Her name is called, at last. Ah, sweet relief. Walking over to join the line, she mentally berates her surname. Start with the letter T, why don't you? Put me at the back of every line, why don't you? But luck is in. Her being at the end of the line does her an immeasurable favour, and by the time the orientation is over, she leaves the hall with more than she had come in with.
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It doesn't seem to be slowing. Is that good or bad?
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