> Gold for your dust, sir. Pearls for your pigs > I’ve wanted a job like this for so long, I barely even know why I want it anymore. I look at my hands. I can’

> Gold for your dust, sir. Pearls for your pigs > I’ve wanted a job like this for so long, I barely even know why I want it anymore. I look at my hands. I can’t tell if they’re mine. > But also I wanted an office with a number. I wanted a university ID. I wanted access to a fancy library and benefits and students and colleagues and travel money. I wanted the whole stupid kingdom. “And then what?” says my mother. “And then nothing,” I say as I jump off the very top of a fairy tale that has no place for me. She has such a great way with English. She is much better off outside of the Ivory Tower, out here, making gifts and hay. Dreadfully, her mother was right.