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She was named "Ramada" after the inn where her parents had slept during the waning days of their Las Vegas honeymoon. It was a moniker more suited for a horse and only served to remind her of the inn. Yet it afforded the vantage point of being different and much more. Deliberately she wore mismatched clothes in off-putting combinations of color and pattern. She relished the notion that she could readily be mistaken for a forgotten child, perhaps even something as rich and rare as an orphan. Orphans had no obligations to anyone other than themselves. Her early gained independence from the age of eight had been a very worthwhile pursuit. More than anything, Ramada preferred her own company, yet even more so she desired the simple pleasures of a drawing tablet, a good book and her own imagination. Her teachers may have called her bright but Ramada knew better. Bright was an adjective reserved solely for light bulbs not for people like her instructors, who, at times, could also be, like light bulbs, quite dim. legal Copyright May 31, 2016 7:07 AM PST All Rights Are Reserved By This Author Meloo (Ramada) Melissa A Howells Straight from her Tilt-a-World all ideas, prose, poetry, rants are the expressed legal property of this writer thank you kindly for reading, says Ramada..... Vote for this poem
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