how quietly they forget.
the window was open so i peeked in.
a little girl and a dog were sitting lackadaisically in front of a fireplace.
but miss turner was nowhere to be seen.
according to all my calculations, she should have been there.
to cut to the chase, i hated miss turner.
i remembered all too well how she had done me wrong.
now she was respectable, oh so respectable.
it all began on a rainy day.
i had gotten wet, and only wanted to get dry.
i was not deliberately setting out to be a jerk.
i had no fond expectations - i only wanted to get out of the rain.
you have to believe me.
i had no bad intentions - but i perceive that you think i am protesting too much.
miss turner was no paragon of beauty or style.
but she was born, like me, under a bad sign.
yes, i know what the world thinks of me.
but i can never forget the look in miss turner’s eyes when she first turned them on me.
like i was just about the most ridiculous thing she had ever seen.
she never gave me a chance to explain myself.
if you could know for one minute all i have been through because of her.
i lost everything.
but did she care? did the jury care? do you care?
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