The thing about Dot’s (Real name Elisabeth.) (With an “s,” not a “z.”), (and Dot stemming from the fact that her father thought that “Button” was too childish) (Ha.) – The thing about Dot’s (She really wanted the nickname “Effy” to catch on, instead of “Dot.” “Effy” was just so cool.) – The thing about Dot’s nosebleeds was that they had become a regular sort of thing (Literally every time rubbed her nose, sneezed, washed her face or took a shower. Literally. Not figuratively.) They had become so regular that she had given up trying to stop them. When she was alone (When her parents didn’t smother her tissues and yell at her to tilt her head 32 degrees – “no, not that far, honey,” “Dot, dear, these have got to stop” – as if she could stop them.) – when she was alone, she stood over the sink, face down, watching the drops of blood split and scatter from the point of contact.

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