Mathilde: Seen on the Purple Line to Linden at about 8:26 a.m.
Mathilde misses France. She moved to Chicago a few years ago for a job, and she still has not learned to love the city. She feels that, compared to Paris, Chicago has no grace. The people are plain; they may be friendly, but they're ignorant, and most of them look as though they take no pride in themselves. The buildings are hodge-podged together without regard to order or overall appearance. Row houses that might otherwise be charming are ruined by their neighbors--1970's square cement apartment buildings and ugly black skyscrapers. And the weather! Mathilde had never felt such biting cold, and even in May it still hadn't warmed up.
She opens her book, "The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest," which she likes because the author is Swedish and has European sensibilities. She pulls juicy red strawberries from her bag and eats them one by one. Mathilde has to give America that much credit: its strawberries are far superior.
Tyranny: Seen on the Purple Line to the Loop at about 5:45 p.m.
When people see me on the L, they feel bad for me, or they scorn me. To them, I'm just a hideous old hag. Those are the reactions you get when you're a hideous old hag. But little do they know that I'm so much more.
They're all so stupid and blind. They really should know better. From the time they were born they've heard loads of fairy tales. And in fairy tales, the hideous old hag is always what? I mean, I'm wearing striped socks; I'm practically giving it away.
I come from a long line of witches. My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother was the very witch who tried to cook Hansel & Gretel. I still have her delicious family recipe for broiled child. Haven't had it in years. Children are much less gullible these days.
That's the problem! Witches no longer command the same kind of respect. Nobody believes in us anymore. And it is true that without belief, our power wanes considerably. But I can still hurt them. While they sit on the train listening to music and reading books, I am constantly cursing them, bringing little misfortunes to their lives. If only they would fear me. I would ruin them completely.
I was only going to write one story, but then I saw Tyranny on the train and I just had to write about her! She really did look like a stereotypical fairy tale witch. Anyway, I must study up for trivia. Until tomorrow...