Puck and Prejudice

by Lia Riley

It wasn’t the lack of words or motivation that was daunting. It was the idea of completing something and discovering it wasn’t very good.

The best part was that Georgie never seemed to notice how she bent the world to her will; she accepted it as her due.

“These are excellent boiled potatoes. Compliments to whoever among you is the chef.” “We didn’t cook this meal.” Jane turned toward him sharply. “Georgie can afford staff.” She didn’t tack on the phrase “you idiot,” but it hung in the air. Something seemed to amuse her because she repeated, “Excellent boiled potatoes” under her breath to no one in particular.

“Sweetheart, look, a bird.” Tuck pointed out the window and tugged her close, whispering in her ear, “You are not allowed to kill them or throw yourself from a moving coach.” She made a noise in protest. “I promise neither.”

Nice is when you’re coming from a place that is all about pleasing others, trying to be likable, doing the crowd-pleaser thing. It’s self-centered, all about you. Now, kind is a different story altogether. It’s about putting others first. Nice is trying to act in a certain way to get something.

Nothing scares the mediocre like watching someone step into their power.