![]() ![]() She could deal with the disappointment later if they were too late, but if she didn’t keep up hope now, she would lose it. She had to keep telling herself that they would get to the Zenporium before it closed. Following up with more questions just lead to more questions, and even though she yearned for the interaction with her father, Morrison couldn’t get lost in one of those funhouse mirrored rooms today. He always took his time searching for an appropriate answer, but it normally fell short of expectations. “Not our best day, Mo.” He answered after some thought, then kicked the trunk into gear and drove away from the empty school. Some said that was the only way to feed all these people in the world but Morrison’s father disagreed. Her dad would sometimes say it was only a matter of time until even farmers would be out of work no way to keep pace with those corporate farms. The previous world was gone and those jobs weren’t coming back. She knew his work was taking its toll on him but there weren’t any other options. How was work?” She was happy to see him even though he was late. “Hey there, Mo.” There was an apology in those words somewhere, Morrison told herself. She exhaled in relief when the rumbling truck gently came to a rest in front of her, then opened the angry door and climbed up into the passenger seat. The hate slowly evolved into a sense of pride, even if all the other kids made fun of her. Morrison used to hate the truck since it was so old and all the other families had new, self-driving, electric cars, meaning she was the only one whose parent had to actually drive her around. To call it green would be polite and technically accurate, but up close one could see the deep orange rust overtaking the paint until, eventually, the whole truck would be a uniform shade of textured occurrence. It was moving fast, growing in size and shape and color as it zoomed down the straight, country road towards the school. She shook the image away and squinted hard at a speck in the distance. Worry crept in and she pictured her dad and his stupid green truck upside down in a gnarled grove of forgotten almond trees, twisted metal among lifeless branches. They hovered around her chest before they were devoured by passing gusts and fell on no ears, including Morrison’s own. He?” she inquired aloud, silently to herself, stretching out each word with the wind. The grey in the sky intensified with the hidden sun’s retreat and Morrison shivered intensely for a few seconds in the biting cold. She desperately tried to keep her spirits propped but the pylons were beginning to wobble. She looked around the school parking lot and realized she was truly alone now just her and the persistent raindrops. Through the mostly-tinted windows, Morrison watched the girls smiling and laughing as they were whizzed away and felt some jealousy weigh on her, mostly because they would all be going home to fathers and mothers tonight. “See you later freak” snarled one of the girls from inside as the minivan closed its doors. A sleek minivan made its way in the distance and eventually pulled itself up next to the catty group of girls, who impatiently climbed over each other and into the spacious compartment. She couldn’t tell where the raindrops stopped and her runny nose began, so she rubbed it all away, only to have it all stubbornly repeat seconds later. The sugar-sweet-pea-sized drops fell diagonally in the wind and tickled the tip of Morrison’s droopy nose, which she had inherited from her mother. The rain was picking up but the drops were still slow, and they slid off her worn, white, black, and yellow striped rain jacket that was at least a size too big. Lightning flashed far in the distance and thunder followed some seconds afterwards. All day her constricting bathing suit was a reminder of what wonders awaited. Try as they might, today was Morrison’s 10th birthday and something much more important than a few insecure jerks was just over the horizon. But, like water off a duck’s back or wind over a crane’s wings, the shy girl tuned most of it out, rode the air currents, shook her tail feathers. Woolskin had already caught the girls teasing Morrison twice that day and now they seemed to be going out of their way to try and make her feel even worse. They were discussing Friday night plans between making mean jokes about “that backwoods girl” who “dressed like a worm” and giggling wildly. Morrison waited alone in the drizzling rain as the other girls huddled under an oversized, orange and black umbrella a few yards away.
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