She was ugly by her own standards, and the only thing her bony elbow, strong legs, and sharp nails were good for was fighting guys if she had to. She’d recently taken up… ignoring… things. Kept her out of trouble, but when she got home she screamed to the woods.

A forgetful child, she had a really REALLY good story… in her notebook at school. But she was gonna get it tomorrow. Always tomorrow. It reminded her of a line from Rip Van Winkle.

“Tomorrow, Tomorrow! All your work is gonna be done tomorrow!” Dame Van Winkle had said.

Done. She turned it in and looked around, counting the people that weren’t done. Fifteen. She’d been ahead of more than half the class.

She’d been working on a story since the beginning of the week, where she’d found inspiration in a Buger King commercial. A strikeout here, a new sentence there, and she could write a whole sidestory. But she wasn’t going to unless it was demanded. Or asked for. Or metioned in friendly conversation. Ah, well. MBTM ’s had worse problems.