Lines. Of all things. Granted, this did not follow the usual structure of lines--of writing the same phrase, copying the text until the letters became rote and thoughtless. This required a little more mental stimulation, but only a little.
It wouldn't do to be immature about this. It was simply that the classroom structure had always been an area in which the Tailor chafed, since their early years during brief stints in orphanage classrooms, and despite the years, little had changed. here they were, being quietly petty about something really quite easy. With their mouth drawn into a thin line, they tapped their pen to the paper twice in thought, and then wrote:
"Measure twice; cut once." "Cut for seam allowance." "Aim for the eyes."
Another two taps.
"Keep your mouth shut." "Keep your eyes open."
No, that was too repetitive. They folded that sheet and put it to the side, and then rubbed their brow. This was not hard, for heaven's sake. Words, in an order, on pieces of paper.
They got by, their sentences often related to work, and then they wondered belatedly if double-words like 'can't' actually counted for one word or two. They pinched their brow over the goggles and then wrote, on the twentieth sheet, "Off to a great start." Wait. That was five. For god's sake.
Re: Class has begun
It wouldn't do to be immature about this. It was simply that the classroom structure had always been an area in which the Tailor chafed, since their early years during brief stints in orphanage classrooms, and despite the years, little had changed. here they were, being quietly petty about something really quite easy. With their mouth drawn into a thin line, they tapped their pen to the paper twice in thought, and then wrote:
"Measure twice; cut once."
"Cut for seam allowance."
"Aim for the eyes."
Another two taps.
"Keep your mouth shut."
"Keep your eyes open."
No, that was too repetitive. They folded that sheet and put it to the side, and then rubbed their brow. This was not hard, for heaven's sake. Words, in an order, on pieces of paper.
They got by, their sentences often related to work, and then they wondered belatedly if double-words like 'can't' actually counted for one word or two. They pinched their brow over the goggles and then wrote, on the twentieth sheet, "Off to a great start." Wait. That was five. For god's sake.