The Dual Citizen

Gwen wandered down the hall towards her room, going slower than usual so she didn't collide with anyone while going through her mail.  "Nothing too interesting," she muttered to herself before coming to a rather official-looking envelope.  "Hello?  What have we here?"  She checked the return address label, merely a red square emblazoned with a rather familiar white encircled "F."

"Ooh!" she cried in excitement, shredding the envelope open.  She bit her lip ecstatically; in her hand she clasped a form.  But to her it was more than a form: it was thee form.  The form she had been waiting five months to receive.  It was the access application for the new site taking her previous home's place.

But as she looked it over, a thought seeped into her mind: as much as she looked forward to this, she had made a place for herself here as well.  Sure, the initial intentions were to make this place the temporary home, then up and move to the promised replacement.  But, as it often happens, "the best laid schemes of mice and men oft' go astray."  She'd made friends here, she'd written a great deal of good stuff here.  Deeper roots are harder to transplant, Gwen figured.

Pensively she slipped her hand into her pocket, pulling out her card key emblazioned with the blue "P" over the lime-green square.  She held it next to the application topped with the red and white square.  After considering them, something dawned on her.

"Nobody ever said I couldn't go back and forth between the two places," she surmised with a grin.  "Who says I can't be a dual citizen?"

The End

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