What we make of ourselves…

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Consider this story:

A woman named Ghislaine, has recently arrived in NYC. By a happenstance, she meets a beautiful young woman, Adair, who has left her loving Nebraska family and community, for NYC.

This is a rearrangement of the slightly-modified “original” story:

A beautiful young woman, Adair, leaves her loving Nebraska family and community to go to NYC. There, she meets a woman named Ghislaine.

What I want to say is I attempted a symmetry operation between the two versions of the story, and now I need to point out the two stories are not symmetrical. Dys-symmetrical, possibly.

Dystopian, possibly.

I want Adair to mirror Ghislaine. I want Adair, coming to NYC from Nebraska, to mirror Ghislaine, coming to NYC from Britain. After all, Adair has a Nebraskan accent; Ghislaine, a charming, clipped, British accent. Dang near aristocratic.

Adair is corn fed; Ghislaine, pudding.

Adair, cowgirl; Ghislaine, dressage.

Adair, Saturday night in front of the drug store; Ghislaine, London Disco Scene– drug of choice, cocaine.

Ghislaine is from a quite large family, and she is the youngest. Adair is from a small family– and she is the star?

Ghislaine is attractive; Adair is stunning.

Ghislaine has made herself useful, as useful as an executive assistant. Adair, failed at obtaining a slot on any professional basketball team, is getting waited on by a maid who speaks French better than she, though she got a 5, or whatever, on her — not SAT, or ACT, or GRE– her AP– her AP wire, winging and cringing, nodding, and blinking wildly– her WTF!–

Our duty is to determine the WTF between Ghislaine and Adair.

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