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"We are better than everyone," she says "Unlike the princess" She shoulders et dressed I’ll help you pick out an outfit How you dress is a reflection onher purple shell hat with synthetic fibers pinned to one side that are e Basil stares at theether on the train

"You don’t like it?" I say

"It’s just, I didn’t know birds could have pink feathers"

"Birds are white, silly," Pen says "It’s just a decoration"

"The birds we’ve seen through the scope are white," Thomas says "But I’ve read stories in which there were all sorts of species Maybe there are pink birds in a different region The ground has all sorts of climates"

Pen huffs a pale blond curl away from her face The train stops with a jolt and she breezes ahead of hi "Such an insufferable know-it-all," she o with the words

The boys catch up to us and take our arms in tandem Thomas kisses Pen’s cheek as she pertly raises her chin to accept "It’s your day," she tells hi?"

"The library first," he says "They’re having a sale"

Most books on Internment aren’t for sale; we can borrow thein to crack and the pages yello editions are printed and the old ones are sold When I was little, I was the first to borrow a newly printed library book and I hid it under my mattress I wanted to knohat it was like to own a new book for myself One that hadn’t been worn down by soes that hadn’t absorbed souilt ain; I couldn’t bear to see it the victiradually move a few paces ahead of Basil andto her, and she throws her head back and laughs The shadows of clouds pass over the to say to her next has been forgotten as he watches her She’s a revelation in the sun, dazzling everywhere the light touches her And not just today Even when she’s sad, even when she sings off-key

Basil touches one of the feathers "Careful," I say "It doesn’t belong to me"

"I didn’t think so It’s not very you"

I try to sht I’round and if there are different kinds of birds If things down there are ood or mostly bad If they ever wonder about us

Basil steals a kiss to my jaw, and I smile at my feet

"There you are," he says

"I don’t, and I realize that Pen and Thomas have stopped too We’ve just passed the theater, and at the end of the block we can see what used to be the flower shop It’s gray and splintered The roof has caved in, and there’s aus not to approach

Other passersby are staring at it, too

"It’s depressing," Basil says

"Alice used to bring me here on the weekends when I was little," I say "It was one of her favorite places"

Things aren’t the sa are proof of that

After a few seconds, Thoo to the library and then to a tea shop The day is full of light breezes and sweet aromas, but I cannot rid my hair of the smell of ash

15

Each of us has a betrothed so that on’t have to spend our lives alone It leads ods arethat we don’t about solitude?

--"Intangible Gods," Daphne Leander, Year Ten

AFTER CLASSES ON MONDAY, BASIL AND I spend ti to skip stones on the lake We don’t talkso necessary

As we sit on the grass, I watch the sunlight catch bits of gold in his hair and I think that he’s more handsome than the prince The prince, like his sister, is always at the height of fashion He’s always polished and there are rues But there’s nothingbrave, I push forward and kiss hi, we fall into the grass

I restto line up our noses and mouths so we’re at a perfect parallel He slides his hands upus I wonder if he and Daphne were ever like this

I try to dis of her body on the train tracks and hoful her final moments must have been