Semi-Daily Scribbles

One day, Gloria decided she couldn't abide the sound of another human's voice. Even more egregious to Gloria's sensibilities was the contempt smeared across another human's face; which, if that human had not been told by Gloria to shut up, would probably have just looked bored. Gloria wanted nothing more than to slip peacefully off everyone's radar, but self-imposed exile was not easy to coordinate. She still had to show up for work at the tax assessor's office, which put her in the line of fire of maddening talk and all manner of facial contortions. Gloria worked very hard to marshal her powers of quiet restraint to get through the daily trials of living on the planet with other people. She employed brief, passionless – though still competent – responses to inquiries. Gloria focused on colleagues' earlobes during face-to-face exchanges. She especially steered clear of the eyes. Gloria didn't want to know what was on the other side of those beady little windows. And at lunch, Gloria made straight for the park across the street, where she kicked off her heels, wiggled her pedicured toes in the cool dew of the grass, and was happy to bask, for a few human-free moments at least, in her own special brand of illumination.