The doorbell rings again, but this time she doesn't quite register it. She's admiring JD Salinger's A Girl I Knew. "She wasn't doing a thing that I could see, except standing there leaning on the balcony railing, holding the universe together." She loves it so much she writes it on her wrist.
She hears footsteps retreating. As they echo down the stairs, she remembers the package she ordered. Damn it. So now she runs faster than she ever did on the high school track team. "Wait!" She'll expect an Olympic Medal when she's back.
She has a certain personality. It's her's, and only her's. Her girl friends call it Attitude.