Yeah, well, I’m not blind and Cupid can bog off.

Anyway, Cain’s probably going to be blown to smithereens by Mrs. Bottomly any minute. That’s his lookout.

I’m not thinking about him anymore . . . him with his unexpected snogging and his hard lips so unexpectedly soft and the way he looked into my . . . no, no, no.

That is it.

I’m going to do my homework. Right, I’m opening the envelope from Sidone.

Girls, my girls,

Start to explore your feelings through Art and Theater. Get used to tapping into your Inner You-ness. The You that makes you you-nique. Access your feelings and bring them to the surface.

How do we do this? How do we share this inner world with our audience?

Well, some examples:

Are you happy? Happy to be back at Dother Hall? Feeling full of creative juices? Of course you are. Why not experiment with colored scarves or tambourines?

Or maybe you are angry. Frustrated by a world that is disinterested in art and artists. I myself often do an expressive stamping dance. To let my feelings free. I growl or shake my hair about angrily. You may feel like swishing your hair about. You need accompaniment. Choose an unusual instrument to pluck.

A comb perhaps?

And so on.

That’s the bit, isn’t it?

The “and so on” bit. That’s when you’re on your own.

Right, I’m going to express what I am feeling.

What am I feeling?

The wind is whining in the trees. I’m sitting in bed with a squirrel slipper and Little Lullah and Little Ruby have left me.

I’m feeling lonely. Yeah, lonely.

Lone-lee.

So how shall I express that physically?

I’ll stand up and slouch around in a lonely way. Slouch slouch. Yeah.

Yeah, dragging my feet, good.

Sighing.

But I’m also feeling angry. Angry that Dr. Lightowler hates me for no reason. Angry that the owls have left me. Angry that the Bottomlys have sent me a threatening letter.

Anger-ee.

Saying it out loud is quite good.

“Lone-lee.”

“Anger-ee.”

It’s got a rhythm to it. Maybe I could do a sort of rap song. About anger and loneliness but . . .

But the twist is—the words are about owlets, but it’s really about Dr. Lightowler and the Bottomlys. I’m not going to think too much. I’m going to pace about and bang stuff like rappers do.

Right, I’m pacing.

Up to the door, back to the window, up to the door, back to the . . .

Ow. I’ve just banged my toe on the bed leg. It’s making me quite angry actually. Because I can only do about four paces before I bump into something wooden.

I want to hit something.

I’m going to hit something. I’m banging a squirrel slipper on the dressing table. Yeah! It feels good.

Right, I’m pacing, pacing and banging the slipper on the bed end. Now on the wardrobe door. Yeah yeah!! I’m stepping up the rhythm now, pacing and banging anything I pass. Pace, pace, bang, bang.