With each week of class that came and went, I became increasingly aware of the girl who always wore that yellow hat.
She seemed to have a melancholic mass affixed towards her; as if with each begrudging step she was treading against a current, barely managing to keep her head above water.
Fighting with herself for the strength to simply walk from the doorway to an open seat, I wondered how she managed to justify coercing herself out of bed for a class generally thought to be trivial.
And that is when I decided I needed to talk to her.
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