The Art of an Antagonist

Once thinking became an arduous task, she dyed her hair blue.

No, not blue.

Periwinkle.

She was quick to distinguish this when others seemed color blind.

Nimwits, she thought---

yes, nimwits.

It was difficult being friendless but such is the price when you are inferior to everyone,

when you often see what they do not,

cannot,

and will not

She repeated this out loud, perhaps too many times,

citing it as some sort of compromise,

and all it ever garnered was a roll of the eyes

and the bleeding of an ulcer no one knew about---

save for her dead brother

and the stained kitchen tile---