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A Piece of Prose

She was quirky.
At least that was how her friends lovingly referred to it, but "strange" was probably a better description. Or perhaps "contradictory".
She had a loud voice, and an even louder laugh that she oftentimes couldn't control.  Long after everyone else had moved on to a new topic of conversation, she'd suddenly realize just how funny she found the joke (or, more often, just how awkward something she'd done was) and she'd start laughing again.  Her friends all knew that she'd stop eventually - That's just Ali, they'd say.  And they'd wait until she'd calmed down, reminding her every once in a while to breathe.
She was what her brother would call a "Grammar Nazi", but she loved to break all the rules, if only because she knew that she could.  Double negatives were her favorite, because you had to think through them to catch the real meaning.  
She loved anything that she felt was different.  Not because it made her unique, but because she felt that these things were unloved.  In Monopoly, she always chose the Thimble, and in Scrabble she only played the most obscure words worth the fewest points.  In the summer, she picked Dandelions and Wishies because everyone else was busy with Roses and Daffodils.  One day, she swore, she'd on a Sphynx because everyone else seemed to be afraid of them.  


I know it's short, and not really finished.  It was an idea I worked on yesterday in class, and completely changed now that I wrote it in here.  Any thoughts?