“Use what talents you possess…The woods would be very silent if no birds sang except those who sung best.” Henry Van Dyke
A misfit among misfits, that’s what they said she’d be.
Dyson never fit in anywhere in any way. In a world of singers, she was tone deaf. In a world of dancers, she had two left feet. In a world of gardeners, her green thumb was brown.
She didn’t believe in the right God, the right politics, or the right social causes. Her fashion sense was beyond appalling, and what she called music sounded like crashing cymbals and sour trumpet notes to everyone else.