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Jane was a plain girl, with a plain name. She came a plain family, who lived in an exciting city, full of exciting people who did exciting things.
Jane’s family lived by the motto, “turn right whenever possible, and avoid oncoming traffic at all costs.” In a word or two or three, Jane’s family was ordinary, safe, and predictable.
Jane, on the other hand, sensed that she was destined for extraordinariness and she was definitely not going to blend into the background. Perhaps it was her her hair that fell to her shoulders in golden waves. That is, when her mother wasn’t watching to make sure she kept it under a sensible hat. Perhaps it was her lips, as red as rubies from the day she was born. Perhaps was Jane’s determination, an unusually extraordinary trait in Jane’s family.
Jane decided that she would travel in cartwheels. Everywhere she went, she cartwheeled there. Sometimes leading with her left arm, sometimes leading with her right. After all, she didn’t want one arm slack and wobbly, while the other was firm and muscular. She allowed herself a skip or a hop, in the event she needed to turn.