From the day
Perspective: The Teenager · Sight
Gadzooks, it’s freezing enough to turn my hair ribbon to glass, yet the gas lamps are glowing bully and bright over the slushy cobblestones. I’m huddled in my wool coat, staring at the newsstand where the headline says "WOMEN RIDE 1,500 MILES.; Long Journey on Horseback so That Girl May Be Educated." Those ladies have real grit, but I’d rather swap my saddle for someone to play a round of Rook or share a cup of that new instant coffee. Mother is humming "Put On Your Old Grey Bonnet" again, oblivious to the neon dreams dancing in my head.