writing doodle ... the wrong side of the fence

From the time she was three, Sally knew she was on the wrong side of the fence for everything in her life.

Not that anyone ever intentionally excluded her, it just worked out that way.  A half a step off from the rest of the world.

By the time she saved enough money to go to the movies, the one her friends wanted to see was no longer playing at the local theatre.


When she learned the words to a song, no one was singing it.

Her clothes were at least two years or more out of date because she only shopped outlets and discount stores. Her hair didn't hold a curl and grew unevenly, so there was no point in attempting a stylish cut.

Her boss said that she was never on time for anything.  She splurged on a good watch and set it early so she wouldn't miss a meeting or a deadline.

Sally was afraid of the water.

Always had been.

When asked, she always had an excuse.  She had either just colored or permed her hair.  The all mighty cramps excuse worked through high school and college.  Lack of a bathing suit worked during the crucial three months of the year.  Besides, her skin didn't tan and she knew the glowing white of her legs would blind someone if they ever saw her in shorts, much less a bathing suit.




No one knew that she spent time at the pool every summer.

She stood beyond the pool, next to the bushes along the fence line.

It was a vicarious way to live and one she wasn't proud of, but it was safe.  And more to the point, it was where she felt she belonged.