Everything in straight lines. Teeth are straight. Hair is straight. Spines are straight. All things that can be straightened must be straight. She sat in the corner and thought about the rules while frantically flat ironing the curve out of her last rogue hair. It was important, very important, the most important straightest, truest thing that had to be. Feet pointed forward, curves are suggestive. Knees must touch when standing and lightly touch while walking, any variation is an invitation. Eyes must be 20/20; less is not what was intended, more skews perception and causes deviance. Sitting down is sitting down; slouching is the way of the sloth and slow. Her mother was coming and the room had to be level and straight and right. She was the only one who was hitherto unstraightened. The others told her how much better it was after the first time and that they looked forward to it because things just lose balance if nature has its way.
She tightens the screws on her brace and looks at the door as her mother’s footsteps grow louder.