At the top of her exam paper written in red ink, circled twice, was the number 67.
She had gotten a 67. A 67% out of 100. Mimmi stared at the offending number dejectedly, brow creased, before cramming the paper into her bag. As soon as she left the classroom she pulled the paper out again, crumpled it up, and threw it in the nearest trash bin.
Spring break, she thought, was the greatest invention known to man. She didn't have to worry about classes or her job or groceries. Instead, Mimmi walked down the edge of the shore, the ocean water lapping at her ankles.
The dormitories allowed animals, but she already had a pet. Now this cat wouldn't go away. It was determined to constantly sit on the windowsill and mewl regardless of how many times she shooed it away.
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She had gotten a 67. A 67% out of 100. Mimmi stared at the offending number dejectedly, brow creased, before cramming the paper into her bag. As soon as she left the classroom she pulled the paper out again, crumpled it up, and threw it in the nearest trash bin.
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Mimmi smiled down at the small, timid faces that circled around the room. Their name tags were neatly written and nicely stuck to their foreheads.
Today was a good day.
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As soon as she was on the ground and had collected her baggage, she hugged her parents and didn't let go for a long time.
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She really loved vacation.
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She wondered if her roommate had been feeding it.
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