Bossy.

No, that’s not right. I’ve yelled at weeds for growing too fast, yes indeed I have. But only because I made the mistake of looking away as they sprouted.

Sunshine, then?

Perhaps not… There are many a days that I’ve drawn raindrops in the sky, and cried when they fell. Not to mention— oh, my! Tornadoes are afraid of me, aren’t they? There’s word on the street that I’m too “sophisticated” for them.

Oh! Sophisticated. I’m sophisticated then.

Mother may I?

May I be excused?

Will you excuse me for being contrarian?

Contrary to popular belief, I am wicked on my feet.

C’mon I’ll show you!

Tap.

Ballet.

Criss cross apple sauce.

I met a man in the ice cream parlor. He called me a slut and I laughed. What a peculiar figure of speech!

I’m a slut.

I’m a slut?

I’m a slut!

Hooray!

Pool parties.

Bikinis.

Too much skin.

I’m a whore.

Oh, you’re wearing that?

Virgin.

I flew in a plane one time. It had barely lifted off the ground before I jumped out of my seat and kissed the sky.

Good tidings Grandfather!

How are things old pal?!

Grief.

Sonder.

Green peas.

Late for class.

Late for dinner.

Late for cello practice.

“Hello, I’m calling to inquire on the whereabouts of a… Miss Molly Allison?”

I’M FINE!

I asked the stars if he’d call me back one time. They asked me why I was wasting my time asking them such a preposterous question.

You’re a catch!

Golden, girl. Look at you!

So, I’m golden?

Golden.

No… think Molly! Think!

What would mother say?

Bitch.

Ah, yes. I’m such a bitch. I make grown men fall to their knees in prayer and dogs whine for their owners. Middle aged moms complain that I play dolls in the street too often.

But I can’t help it! They’re just so retched! Like me. I’m retched. Callous. Cold.

A witch.
Look over there!

She’s flying away. Alas! A prison break. Spilled poison.

Murder.

Lifeless.

Soulful.

Alive.

Aggregate.

The sum— of everything combined.