**No warnings.
Height
"You're a long drink of water," the sergeant said. "Keep your head low and you may just stay alive."
I smiled, more by rote and form than substance. The phrase, too often used, vindicated the need for something to hold up my head. Displeased with my spurt at sixteen, I was left with short cuffs and a matching attitude. Where Grandfather huffed, I growled. I was the tallest of my classmates and breathed in the world's ills. The Rebellion had been struck one year earlier, and my own revolt was close at hand.
Better to die of being too tall than of boredom.
Feb/09