"Stop right this instant, young lady!"
Sister Mary Ezekiel's voice cracked through the halls, causing instant silence, while the students turned as one to see who she was unleashing her ire against. In relief, each went to class, talking in a whisper about the poor girl about to get strung up.
Penelope floated ten feet off the ground, then tumbled down, landing roughly, grunting as she banged her knee against the water fountain. She shrank back as the nun stalked forward, glaring at the now groundborne student. Sister Mary Ezekiel stopped in front of the prone girl, glowering down at her. "You're going to get someone hurt, flitting around like that in the halls. Most likely yourself. Have you been drinking?"
Penelope flinched at the tone, then glowered back when the question was put to her. "No, sister. I'm just not very good yet."
Sister Mary Ezekiel frowned in obvious thought. "After school, out in the track, at 4:30. Make your schedule free for two hours every night this week. And the next week, though you'll be spending that in detention. I expect you to have the sense God gave to the humble sparrow. Stay on the ground until you understand true flight. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" Without waiting for an answer, the enormous nun turned and walked down the hall, tennis shoes squeaking down the hallway. Penelope stared after the nun in surprise and dismay, then flinched as the bell rang. Great. Now she'd be late.
Flight of Fancy
Moderator: Student Council
Re: Flight of Fancy
Panting, Penelope bent over, hands on her knees, looking at the ground between Sister Mary Ezekiel's feet. "I don't get why I have to run to learn to fly!"
Sister Mary Ezekiel frowned down at the young girl with a look of exasperation. "Look at you! You're skin and bones and baby fat. You need some muscle on you, and you need to work on your endurance. You're going on a protein rich diet, and you're going to work out, every day. Now. Stand up straight, girl. Yes, that's right, and don't you give me that look, this is for your own good. Now. Show me how you hover."
Penelope frowned up at the sister. Hovering? She was so far beyond hovering... but rather than face the wrath of her teacher, she pushed off the ground, then exerted force downward, letting her body find it's balance. The nun nodded, looking fairly ridiculous in habit and sweatsuit. "Okay. Fly to the goalpost and back here. Once, mind you."
Penelope smirked, and darted off through the air. The trip was over far too fast, as she settled into hovering in front of her teacher again, who was frowning in thought. "All right, girl. Land, then hover again, like you're flying."
The teen cast her teacher an odd glance, then dropped to the ground, and pushed off again. She settled to the ground again, when the nun barked the command, and glowered at the old biddy.
"You hover and fly very differently, Miss Samuels. You need to learn to control your flight, give it the stability you have when you're motionless. You will stay on the ground until tomorrow's lesson, and will work on a breathing exercise." Penelope gave the nun a dubious look, barely resisting the urge to retort about exercising, as the woman continued. "Breathe in, and hold your breath. Yes, good. Notice how you lock your throat. It's normal, and it means you don't have to concentrate. Lord have mercy, breathe, girl. This isn't meant to make you pass out. Breathe slowly and evenly. Now, I want you to inhale, and then hold the air in, without locking your throat. Just let the muscles here..." the nun pressed a hand against Penelope's stomach, "stay tense until you breathe out. On a count of eight breathe in, then on a count of eight, hold, and on a count of eight, exhale. Practice that, no more than three times in ten minutes, until you're confident you can hold your breath without locking your throat. I will see you tomorrow, after school, at 4:30 sharp. And this time, be on time. One lap for every minute you're late."
As Penelope walked away, she cursed under her breath at Sister Mary Ezekiel, and went to her room to practice breathing instead of flying.
Sister Mary Ezekiel frowned down at the young girl with a look of exasperation. "Look at you! You're skin and bones and baby fat. You need some muscle on you, and you need to work on your endurance. You're going on a protein rich diet, and you're going to work out, every day. Now. Stand up straight, girl. Yes, that's right, and don't you give me that look, this is for your own good. Now. Show me how you hover."
Penelope frowned up at the sister. Hovering? She was so far beyond hovering... but rather than face the wrath of her teacher, she pushed off the ground, then exerted force downward, letting her body find it's balance. The nun nodded, looking fairly ridiculous in habit and sweatsuit. "Okay. Fly to the goalpost and back here. Once, mind you."
Penelope smirked, and darted off through the air. The trip was over far too fast, as she settled into hovering in front of her teacher again, who was frowning in thought. "All right, girl. Land, then hover again, like you're flying."
The teen cast her teacher an odd glance, then dropped to the ground, and pushed off again. She settled to the ground again, when the nun barked the command, and glowered at the old biddy.
"You hover and fly very differently, Miss Samuels. You need to learn to control your flight, give it the stability you have when you're motionless. You will stay on the ground until tomorrow's lesson, and will work on a breathing exercise." Penelope gave the nun a dubious look, barely resisting the urge to retort about exercising, as the woman continued. "Breathe in, and hold your breath. Yes, good. Notice how you lock your throat. It's normal, and it means you don't have to concentrate. Lord have mercy, breathe, girl. This isn't meant to make you pass out. Breathe slowly and evenly. Now, I want you to inhale, and then hold the air in, without locking your throat. Just let the muscles here..." the nun pressed a hand against Penelope's stomach, "stay tense until you breathe out. On a count of eight breathe in, then on a count of eight, hold, and on a count of eight, exhale. Practice that, no more than three times in ten minutes, until you're confident you can hold your breath without locking your throat. I will see you tomorrow, after school, at 4:30 sharp. And this time, be on time. One lap for every minute you're late."
As Penelope walked away, she cursed under her breath at Sister Mary Ezekiel, and went to her room to practice breathing instead of flying.