1.12

From across the room, Penelope saw her one-time nemesis, Amelia Murglethorpe. She had always found Amelia's name amusing and appropriate, as she greatly resembled Amelia Bedelia, and Penelope felt her to be just as silly. Amelia, clad in four shades of asymmetrical black, which she mistakenly thought to be chic, galumphed towards her. Penelope clutched mini-Edward's nose and breathed deeply.

"Penelope! What are you--how are--"

Penelope waited; she had forgotten Amelia's peculiar inability to start and end a sentence with a clear through-line.

--what's that--I mean, how's Frank?" Amelia managed to finish.

"I am fine, if that's what you are asking, and Frank is fine," replied Penelope.

"That's--I think--just great, don't you think?"

"What I think is that I would like to stab you in the face."

"Great, thanks! Wait, what?"

"I wanted to grab you and have a race!"

A little uncertainly, "That sounds fun."

"I hate you, and Frank will never date you!"

"You--he won't?"

"He won't, what?" Frank suddenly appeared.

Penelope froze with guilt. 'Umm, that's a really good question. Who knows what "he" will or won't do? And by "he," of course, we mean God.'

Frank raised an eyebrow. "Oh, do we believe in God today?"

Penelope shrugged, "Marginally."

"Okay, enough people time for you. Excuse us, Amelia." Frank steered Penelope away.

As they walked away, Penelope heard Amelia whisper, "I had no idea she was so peculiar."