Ugly duckling! That also describes my teenage years.
Once upon a time, there was a girl who had an official name – the name in her birth certificate, a name for bureaucrats and people who didn’t know her well – and a true name. The true name was Thing.
Thing was taught charts and graphs early on. She knew one’s beautiful years must be maximized for profit.
Thing was not symmetrically beautiful, but this too was an asset to be maximized – rich men with brains got bored of traditional beauty, the same set of breasts, the same set of lips, they weren’t collectibles. If you broke one, you could always get another.
Thing’s looks and intelligence made her a collectible. Rich men with brains came up to her at parties and lit her cigarettes for her and informed her of the fact. “If I broke you, I couldn’t get another of you,” they said.
Intelligence was problematic, though. It wouldn’t be bought…
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