We got an actual 11F submission, so here she is. Manzana will probably move into one of Jay's slots if he takes us up on our suggestion that he just write the boys and we take his girls since he finds boys easier.
Orsay Orchards, D11F (13)
It took me a month to save up for the frilly pink dress I was wearing as I went door-to-door selling cookies. I hated frilly pink dresses. It was entirely an investment purchase. Since I got it, my income rate had doubled. The dress was perfectly picked. It was a size smaller than it should have been, so it was short on my legs and tight on my arms, making me look skinny and spindly and like I couldn't afford one that fit. My glasses had a carefully placed smudge of dirt on them, furthering the urchin look. I wasn't selling the bland, bitter cookies made of tesserae flour and whatever I had lying around. I was selling the presentation.
"Good morning," I said when a man answered the door. "Would you like to buy a cookie? It's only half a coin."
"Half a coin?" the man asked as he looked at my wide, blinking eyes. "I'll have to buy two, then." I took his coin with a grateful smile and parceled out two cookies. When he closed the door, I continued on my carefully selected route. I had it down to a science. I made sure to hit different parts of the District every week, so that by the time I got back to any one place again, the people had forgotten how bad the cookies were and thought that maybe by now I'd improved the recipe. I also understood that charity fatigue was a real thing. I didn't want to get greedy and drain the well completely.
It must have all seemed very cynical, but I didn't mean to be a misanthrope. I just wanted to get out of Eleven, and that took a lot. It took concrete goals and hard work. The end goal was to go to the Capitol and work in business, but they didn't take just anyone. They took very few people, and very few from the Districts. I would need demonstrable business skill and a lot of money. Selling cookies wouldn't get me all the way there, but it could get me enough capitol to move into bigger ventures. Someday, I could take off this awful abomination of a dress and upgrade to a sleek suit.
My cheeks ached from smiling so much and my voice was thin from the cute falsetto I adopted during business hours. Smiles weren't exactly natural for me. There never seemed to be much to smile about in Eleven. The orchards were full of bright colors and smells, but it always seemed like my glasses had a gray tint. By the time everything reached my brain, it was muted and washed out. Life was all right, but nothing to get excited about. Maybe the Capitol would be more stimulating.
We didn't actually need the tesserae. By Eleven standards, my family was rich. Mostly "rich" meant we didn't need tesserae. Anyway, I took one out every two months to have materials for my business. It was a risk, but reward was proportional to risk. Eleven was a big place, and plenty of kids took out multiple tesserae per month. Percentagewise, my tiny intake didn't affect my chances. If that was what it took to get me out of this place and into the elite, I'd roll the dice. I reached another door and knocked melodically.
"Good morning. Would you like to buy a cookie?"