When the new girl joined their class, the sixth graders had all gawked at her. She was at least five inches shorter than the shortest kid in their class.
She wore round glasses and had leather-bound books. She had to sit in the first row because she couldn’t see the teacher from anywhere else. From the first day, she knew she’d find no friends in her classmates. They teased her all the time, hid her books at a height she couldn’t reach and, snatched her specs away in jest. It was torture for her and amusing for them.
If her height was one reason, her name was another to make fun of her. She was called Hermia.
They would learn their lesson the following year in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Shakespeare said it: “There is no art to judge the mind’s construction on the face.”
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And who are we but menials to argue with that?
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