Girl Talk

“It wouldn’t matter; trust me,” the girl says as she sighs and hugs one of couch pillows to her knees.  “I can pretend like there’s nothing out there to worry about and no one coming after me, but I can’t just live like that all the time.  At the end of the day, I’m still not human.”

“Bullshit you’re not human,” the older one slaps back, acting like she’s got it all figured out.  “You sleep every night, eat every day, you go to class and get grades, you crap in the same kinda toilet as us, you bleed like us, hell you have a period like us.  S’human enough for me.”

She smiles weekly at her companion’s brusque assurances, before regressing backwards once more.  “I, uhh…  I don’t, actually…  It only happens once every, like, seven months.”

The self-appointed advisor hesitates for a while, hardly expecting such an open admission about such an obtuse subject.  She refuses to let herself be taken aback for long all the same, pushing herself to be the voice of reason the child in front of her needs.  “And so that’s what’s supposed to make you not human?  One exception out of, like, thousands?”

“It’s not like it’s natural, is it?  Come on, is it?!” she asks, the direct approach clearly not easing her emotions any.

“Christ almighty, girl, you’re missin’ the point.  Whatever you are, you grew up like a human grows up, and it looks like you did all right for yourself with that route.  No sense stopping now.”

{More concepts and practice for merging fantasy with reality.}

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