𝙰 𝚑𝚘𝚊𝚡 𝚘𝚏 𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒂 & 𝑳𝒐𝒖𝒊𝒔

𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐞́! ✍︎︎ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʳᵒᵒᵍᵉ

Chp.8

"Laurence boast to me, Monica, of how marvelous you dance." Teacher Lopuobonnet bends down ahead of Monica, announcing to Monica such, as her pedagogue berates her with unrelenting & nasty barks. Monica abides with little to no heart-felt pain, but the tears come anyhow. In fact, the gross remarks out of the mouth of a bitter soul have seen remarkable improvement. Because of them, Monica has been more wanting than ever! She has advanced more than ever! And she wants more of it! "So please, please Madame Moss, continue to break my spirit!" She begs! This tenacious liaison between Monica & ballet is reason for when all the times she feels vanquished, she catches herself more efficient & stalwart in the end!
Inasmuch, ballet is Monica's true love & her love is madly.
"Thank you, teacher Lopuo." Despite the tears still, Monica breaks grin across her lips & to give appreciation she looks up to Monsieur Lopuo who too grins. Monsieur Lopuo struggles to figure how he may address the Madame Moss with his concern for the way she admonishes Monica, where he may avoid conflict between them both. Monsieur Lopuo is no docile gentleman but the benevolent pacifist, as a gentleman, prefers to circumvent uncomfortable confrontation that may provoke Madame Moss whom is so insistently aggressive in her own facts. Even so, he must admit he is on edge; very near his wrath & he refuses to subjugate himself to her penchant for foulness any longer! Let this be the only end, "Madame Moss.." Lopuo sternly mouths. His tongue is fiery & needs for God to hold it.
Madame Mossamaé's commentary has ceased & her eyes now refocus on Lopuo. Those eyes reek of fury in this sudden interruption, just as his does too. Now—it is Predator & Predator who share a spellbind stare at each other; Lion & tiger. Do wonder, who will be the remaining predator, whilst the other falls prey? "Lopuo—Monsieur Lopuobonnet—do those eyes of yours not see me preoccupied, already?!" She raises her unsteady voice. Magnificent! Monsieur Lopuo needs just any sign to trigger his reaction & that he gladly accepts! "Madame Mossamaé, you harridan, even if Monica was not as great as she is, you have overstepped speaking to her these ways! She is only the clean age of 14, mind your imprudent & noxious comments lest I have you regret your words!" Lopuo stands firm in his stance of raising arms and a furrowed brow countenance, as he perfervidly chastises. And unforeseen to Lopuo, Mossamaé laughs derisively with her palm on her stomach. "Carefully understand who you speak to, Monsieur Lopuo—LEST I have those you don't know, have your head!" She hollers. "Since you know zilch of who I am, Do not dare to seek out the worst side of who I am!"
During this all, Monica humorously observed the situation, rueful and still she is quite contrite that her dear teacher has to be attacked with such words to the defense of her. But, he has chosen to fortify her. Within this tame gentleman, A silent & overflowing spleen builds with digestion of Madame Mossamaé's response. "Madame, you are a pitiful, hard-headed woman. You do not produce any happiness, do you? You are as a miserable tramp. Have my head, will you? You're naive to threaten me with execution whilst knowing a cowardly wench such as you wouldn't dare budge to complete yourself! Once again, this is final Mossamaé, don't let your mouth linger anywhere lest I make you regret your words, dear." Teacher Lopuo, once he notices, puts his finger that he pointed towards Madamé Mossamaé down. Despite seemingly repeating already said words, in this instance anyone could tell of his aberration: What was then exclaimed was now demanded with disdain. He exhales & is much relieved now that he has emitted of these pounding emotions. Madame Mosssmaé turns her head towards Monica with no defining expression. Dumbfounded, is she? Or is she repudiating; refusing to accept these demeaning circumstances. Monica recognizes Lopuo's care for her & as a result she grins at him, and gives him a thumbs up, to show her gratitude. "Thank, you Lopuo!" She mouths silently. Though Monica is grateful to the entirety,  what may become of her when Madamé Mossamaé eschews the use of her own harsh language. Will this prove hindrance to her ability? "Depart from my building, immediately!" Madamé Mossamaé orders, after her long interval in which you may label it: an interval period of self recollection—never reflection. Her head turns the opposite direction from Lopuo. Monsieur Lopuo gently takes hold of Monica's hand, and the two depart just as wished. They smile at each other & thereafter go to visit the lonesome swamp of neglected love that has no Mr. Lopuobonnet to shelter it. It's somber scenery is beautiful. It is beautifully depressing.