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Little Pink Parasol

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The group looked at the piles of paper that littered the desk. They especially considered one pile carefully placed in the exact centre of the table. There were more slips on that pile than any other pile located around the table.

“Wow. Never really thought about it.”

“Me neither. I mean ...” she trailed off.

“We never do. All these years, we never do. And we're not the only ones. No one ever thinks about this. Not ever.”

“We could ignore it,” one young man suggests tentatively. “Not like we don't have precedent.”

The others glared at him. “So it's a write in,” the smaller, dark-haired boy answered. “It doesn't change things. This is important. Important enough that fully three-quarters of the school population took it on themselves to nominate her. She's important. We have to do something,” he ended softly.

One of the girls grinned suddenly. “I have a so brilliant idea!”


“We have one more award to give out. Is Buffy Summers here tonight? Did she, um...”