A Day Late and A Dollar Short

I wrote this to the Thimbleful Thursday prompt "A day late and a dollar short."

“Anyone would think,” said the School Governor grimly as she looked at the records before her, “that you don’t want to be here, Uthel. Your work is both patchy and tardy, but your teachers are convinced that you could excel, if you chose to.” She raised an eyebrow and asked, “Why do you not choose to?”

Uthel’s outfit barely scraped into the school uniform code. Her belted tunic was regulation length and she wore shoes, but her legs were bare and her shirt was sleeveless cream silk, not short-sleeved white cotton. “Coming here was what Pretoria wanted. I was happy in the normal school system, but she insisted. Now my twin’s dead I have no reason to stay, but no-one listens to what I want to do.”

“Your sister’s death was a tragedy,” acknowledged the Governor, “but your grief is no reason to throw away your own bright, promising future.”

“Governor,” Uthel hadn’t changed her position, hands behind her back and feet apart, “I don’t want the future Pretoria did. Neither do you. Pretoria was my dominant twin, and being my twin didn’t make her kind. She was, has always been, only interested in what she wants. Death hasn’t changed that.”

“You believe she’s still here?”

“Definitely.”

“And she wants?”

“Total domination.”

“Another one. We really should test for that.”

A Day Late and A Dollar Short

I wrote this to the Thimbleful Thursday prompt "A day late and a dollar short."

“Anyone would think,” said the School Governor grimly as she looked at the records before her, “that you don’t want to be here, Uthel. Your work is both patchy and tardy, but your teachers are convinced that you could excel, if you chose to.” She raised an eyebrow and asked, “Why do you not choose to?”

Uthel’s outfit barely scraped into the school uniform code. Her belted tunic was regulation length and she wore shoes, but her legs were bare and her shirt was sleeveless cream silk, not short-sleeved white cotton. “Coming here was what Pretoria wanted. I was happy in the normal school system, but she insisted. Now my twin’s dead I have no reason to stay, but no-one listens to what I want to do.”

“Your sister’s death was a tragedy,” acknowledged the Governor, “but your grief is no reason to throw away your own bright, promising future.”

“Governor,” Uthel hadn’t changed her position, hands behind her back and feet apart, “I don’t want the future Pretoria did. Neither do you. Pretoria was my dominant twin, and being my twin didn’t make her kind. She was, has always been, only interested in what she wants. Death hasn’t changed that.”

“You believe she’s still here?”

“Definitely.”

“And she wants?”

“Total domination.”

“Another one. We really should test for that.”