A small bound notebook with pink geometric patterns on a white background is carelessly left in the top shelf above the couches in the Refract Valley library. The first page reads as follows: " Official therapy journal MairiAnna TinkerToy (Echo) " The writing on the next page is written in neat, boxy letters. It's perfectly legible, if a bit childish. "Dear Journal, I am supposed to write in you because my therapy lady, who refuses to tell me whether or not she possesses doctoral qualifications, thinks I am a little girl. She says because my IQ wasn't able to be quantified by her computer tests, that she must assume the lowest IQ. I attempted to explain to her the proper administration of analog IQ tests but she said those are old fashioned. If Uncle Zephyr keeps making me talk to her I will stitch his hems higher and higher every day until he is wearing booty shorts. She will read this and I hope she does because I think she is a dirty rotten not-having-a-doctorate therapist and I don't like her at all. Anyhow therapy went like this: Stupid lady: Hello, Echo Mairi: Hello, dubiously-qualified-woman Stupid lady: that isn't very nice, I told you I'm Doctor Elliott. Mairi: and I told you my name is Mairi. Echo is not my name. Stupid lady: did your mother name you Echo? Mairi: did your mother name you Doctor Elliott? Stupid lady: no, someone I care for very much gave me my last name when I married her. Mairi: no, someone I care for very much gave me my name when he took me away from them. Stupid lady: My name change is legal, Echo. Mairi: your argument is invalid due to the fact that novas don't keep records in that way. I am whatever I want to be called. You only know my old name cause Uncle Zephyr told you. Stupid lady: his name isn't Zephyr, Echo. His name is Brighton. Mairi: What did he introduce himself as? Stupid lady: that doesn't matter, real names matter. Mairi: if your focus in therapy is going to be on something as arbitrary as a name, I'm going to leave. I dislike you immensely. I hope you don't use your inept methods on any other patients. Then I got up and left and went to where uncle Zephyr was waiting outside. Mairi: time to go Uncle Zephyr: Mairi you promised you would give her another chance Mairi: I did. Her idiocy ended her second chance. Uncle Zephyr: MairiAnna Tinkertoy you watch your tone! Mairi: she called me "Echo" Uncle Zephyr got quiet after that, and he took me home. Now that we're in this outer sector it will probably be harder to find a qualified therapist for this very broken Mairi. I'm sorry." The page is riddled with erasures and underneath you can see grammatical errors and badly written words. The final product is legible but it certainly doesn't read the way the girl talks.
