pg 48

once upon a time on lovely, tree lined street, maybe your street….(was it your street?!)… there lived a girl and her name was moira. and moira, well, she liked her name very much. not many people had this name, moira, that she liked so much. and to think! a name that she could use all the time. everytime she heard it, it was like being given a present that she had picked out but was still a surprise anyway. whenever she would go out, had to run errands, when the butcher would say, ‘nice to see you again moira!’ or the bank teller told her, ‘my, your savings are growing moira’ well those times were treats to her.

now, as is often the case with life, it wasn’t all wonderful with her name. there were times, rare as they were, when her name was a cause for trouble, when it, as her grandfather used to say, would just grind her gears-and it had to do with short forms.

moira loved short forms. say your name was katelyn. well, if moira had just met you katelyn, she just couldn’t wait to call you kate. without even asking if you minded being called kate-there it was. rightly so, this would sometimes get her into trouble. because, when you’re out and about in the world, it’s important to remember to ask people what they want to be called. after all, it is their name, they should get to choose. it’s only fair.

so moira loved short forms. but what she didn’t love was when people mispronounced her short form. moira’s short form was MOI. and she would say it’s moi like koi-the fish. this is why moi likes kois. she knows alllll sorts of facts about them. here are some of them:

-Koi are cold-water fish, but like hanging out in the 15-25 degrees C water
-they don’t like being in cold winter temperatures for long: their immune system ‘turns off’ below 10 degrees C.
-they are also called ‘japanese carp’
-koi fish are very popular because they are a symbol of love and friendship
-‘koi’ is a homophone for another word that means ‘affection or love’

the problem was, even though her name was moi-ra and not moi-ra (as the french pronounce their word for ‘me’) people would still call her moi-ra. oh how she hated it. the word would run up her spine, wrap itself around her neck before splashing itself all over her body in little tiny goosebumps. and moira hated goosebumps. she was a skinny girl, with long curly red hair that looked like her head was on fire it was so red. unlike many other redheads moira had met, moira’s skin wasn’t all that pale nor did it have all that many freckles either.

about her left arm…maybe it was because she was skinny, and maybe that was why she got cold so easily, but whatever the reason, moira’s left arm got goosebumps all the time-and not just when people called her moi either but alllll the time! This (don’t tell anybody) is why moira hated her left arm. you could even say she hated it more than the plague-and moira hated the plague a lot.

you’re absolutely right. hate is a strong word. one you have to be careful of, otherwise one day you could use it, maybe in a fight with a friend, someone in your family, or maybe a lover. and you can never take it back. and that’s the things with words-once they get said, however nice, however hurtful, they’re forever out in the open and you can’t take them back. they’re not your words anymore. sure you can say, ‘i take it back’, but still, in the back of that person’s mind-your friend, your family, your lover, they’re always going to wonder if you.really.meant.it. so be careful with your words, ok? promise?

in spite of this, moira hated her left arm. so much so that one tuesday afternoon when she was in her front yard, (on her lovely, tree lined street) when she should have been warm because it was sunny, she got goosebumps all up and down her left arm. and she decided-thaaaaaaat’s it! i’ve had enough for the last time. i’m going to cut off my left arm and that’s final.

it’s sounds like moira certainly has a lot of thinking to do
.
.
.
and planning
.
.
.
moira knew her family loved her very much but she also knew that they probably wouldn’t let her cut off her own arm. so she had to think. she thought and she thought and she thought! of chainsaws, and car accidents, woodchippers, and grainfeeders. she thought of it all. but, as much as she hated her arm, she knew she’d rather go on living with a left arm she hated than run it under something as painful as a chainsaw-or worse. she would just have to come up with something else. there just had to be a way that wouldn’t hurt so much. and then moira had a great idea! she could ask her friends for help! because if moira knew one thing (and she knew lots of things) it was that you can count on your friends. friends support you and friends will let you share your secrets and not laugh at you, nor tell you you’re stupid. friends will say, you can tell me and i’ll listen.

so moira went to her friends for help. she went to john and she went to amir, she went to tara and sara and she went to zhaleh but they all said, ‘whoaaaaaa, you want to do what?!’ they said no, they couldn’t think of a way to safely, painlessly cut off your own arm. they also said they were worried about her and asked if she was ok and wanted to talk because that’s another things friends do for their friends. but moira didn’t want to talk.

after moira talked to all of her friends, she went home and she cried and she cried. she hated her arm, she wanted it gone.

to cheer herself up, moira drew herself a bath. moira may have hated her left arm but she loved! baths! she loved how the steam filled the room and she loved how impatient she got dancing naked around the bathroom waiting for the tub to fill up. and, most of all, she loved lowering herself into a hot bath while making extra sure her hands didn’t get wet. that way, when she was in the tub, she could read a book without the pages getting wet.

after a while, of reading, and letting the hot water cool to warm, she thought-all i want to do is plunge my arms underwater as fast as i can. a race! my arms haven’t been wet this entire time and now it’s their turn to get clean! simultaneously she dropped her arms, plunging both deep underwater. and when she brought them up again-dripping wet, both of them, sure enough only her left arm got goosebumps. but this time-the arms race fresh in her mind-she only laughed and said: ‘Oh, i love you all the same!’

100 words on 55 cds: artwork, music, groans, etc