Fair is Fair

Hear them listening. Hear them talking.
Bark, bark, bark, bark.
Talking nonsense.
- Possum Dixon

It's Anna who helps me read my new schedule. She rattles off names of classes I should attend, their times, their venues. I listen carefully but I don't understand her -- it seems as if she's talking too fast and I wonder if I'm getting enough sleep.

And I wonder why she's talking to me. Or if anyone is watching. Or if it's all in my head.

She's saying something important. I concentrate to understand. It has to do with a ring.

"You'll have to give me your rings. As payment, you know."

"No, I don't know."

"Fair is fair, Camille."

And I start to cry. It isn't fair. I don't understand my schedule any better, I'm stuck in my old uniform, I seem to have lost my sense of hearing and now I have to give her my rings.

I hand them to her. She bites off the diamond of the engagement ring (formerly mine) and winks at me.