The Curiosity of The Enigmatic

3.)Write your name and three things that you don’t like about yourself:

Tania. Mouse like. Clumsy. Not very bright.

That was a bit too easy. I’m worried about my enthusiasm for the above. Because my name was on the same line does that mean I don’t like my name? Whatever...I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.

4.)Write down three things you like about yourself:

Err...My thick light brown wavy hair. My hazel eyes. I can become practically invisible.

Wait...What if my teacher thinks I mean in the social sense? As in people don’t notice me at all? Not that it isn’t true but it’s not what I mean either. Argh! But she might take me for a whack job if I start ranting about being able to go incognito, hiding behind doorways,etcetera, and liking it.

I erase the last sentence about being invisible and write down some rubbish about being an adrenaline junkie. What’s there to lose?

5.) What do you enjoy doing in your spare time?

Grinning, I’m about to write down that I spy on people and swim in my neighbour’s pool when they’re not using it but I don’t want my new admin teacher to think I really AM around the bend. I have to make a first good impression.

6.) And if you could have any superpower, what would it be?

Now we’re talking. Being able to fly, I scribble down feeling that familiar longing creep up on me. I fold the worksheet and stuff it into my bag. Then I insert a disc into my small and compact CD player and I start undressing. One of my favourite bands, Moon Rock, plays in the background and I hum along. At the part where the electric violin kicks in with a violent solo piece I hop around on my floor trying to pull on my board shorts strangely in sync with the music.

Yikes. I twist around to get a peek of my bum. I should lay off the custard. My mother bought two litres of custard a few days ago because it was on sale. I’m sure that if ear plugs were on sale she’d buy them by the trolley full. I run my hands down the sides of my new sleek red one piece costume. Besides for my bum I’m pretty trim with nice curves and a relatively large cup size. Voluptuous, my mother would say if I ever complained. I put my CD player off, throw a plain blue T-shirt over my head and grabbing a towel from the hallway cupboard I make my way to the backdoor. Once outside the heat strikes me full on and the air seems to shimmer ahead of me. Cicadas hum that irritatingly “Brrrrr” and I swat at one when I move under a tree. It’s a stiflingly hot quiet summer’s day, typical in such a small suburb almost in the country side.

I sit down in the cool shade of the tree and I’m midway between removing my shirt when I hear a piercing wolf whistle from behind me. I groan into the material of my shirt and feel the ominous presence of my arch nemesis, Eric.