Gracie
A random character description inspired by some Anne Lamott this evening. To be added to if anyone else has the inclination. Heh.
Gracie stood there on the big colored map of the United States stenciled brightly onto the playground, alone. "This," she had just said to the two girls nearest her, "is where we are," proudly pointing with one toe to the middle of the southernmost border of Pennsylvania. "And here," she continued, "is where my granma lives in Mehr-land." Another gleeful point. "And my other granma lives here, in Indiana." A hop landed Gracie on the state under discussion. "Isn't that cool?" Her observers looked at one another, one popping her gum loudly in the silence. There was no response. Graice stood alone, again.
Her name was singularly appropriate. Her eyes were gray. And haunting. Other children couldn't look at her very long; there was something unsettling in her gaze. Her teachers couldn't bear her very long, either. No one knows what to do with the little serious girl -- ever.
She really wanted to be like the other girls -- their fun, sparkly hair things, their perms, their clothes that came from stores with names like "Bon-Ton" and "Penney's." But she couldn't be.
posted by Anna Clare @ 4:50 PM
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She really wanted to be like the other girls -- their fun, sparkly hair things, their perms, their clothes that came from stores with names like "Bon-Ton" and "Penney's." But she couldn't...
You see, Gracie had been born with a third nipple. Now, third nipples are not really that uncommon-- just another modified sweat gland usually located in line with and directly beneath the left nipple-- but Gracie was never told this. At six she made this realization and at seven she had formulated the opinion that she was not like all the rest. For this reason, and this reason alone, Gracie got serious...
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