TITLE: The Paper Gods
GENRE: Middle grade fantasy
More than anything, Poetry wished she had a button. Failing that, she
would have settled for an out-of-the-way corner in which to pin her
shirt closed. She had neither. What she did have was twenty-odd
students and a handful of passers-by, gawking at her and her lime green bra.
She could flee back into school for a bathroom. Of course, the sharks
had already scented her blood. A spectacular, head-over-heels fall
with her shirt ripped wide open and the crucial button soaring through
the air? She was never going to live this down.
Poetry stood up straight.
“Could I have your attention, please?”
She already had everyone’s attention; the gigglers, the whisperers,
the nice kids cringing in sympathy. Even the man across the street was staring.
Calmly, without looking down, she began working on her shirt. “Public
viewing hours for Poetry Wu’s Wondrous Heaving Bosom are now over.”
She fit her remaining buttons carefully into the wrong buttonholes.
The shirt might be crooked, but her important bits would be covered.
She glanced around. Some of the smirks were unfolding into smiles, but
she could tell that the guy in the muscle shirt was about to say
something nasty, and that man was still just staring – at her face, not her really-quite-ordinary bosom.
Muscle-shirt opened his mouth.
"You there,” Poetry called out hastily, “Did you have something to say about the exhibit?”
Not anymore, he didn’t. He turned red and shook his head.
“Comments are to be left in…uh…”