In the park there was a wide lipped fountain, spraying water from the trumpet of an angel.

The statue was known as the Town Herald, in an architectural move more coincidental than Guinevere would bet the people who designed it were aware of. However, she could appreciate it, and another thing she could appreciate was how perfect the fountain was for sitting on when all the benches were full nearby. She poised herself on the brim, blowing at her still-too-warm tea in its styrofoam cup. She was drafting an application to Durem University, and her jotted down notes were in her lap so far. She bit the edge of her pencil thoughtfully, a bad habit she had never managed to break, and then scrawled something else down next to it. Her essay had to be good, Durem University was her best bet for a college education. They gave a lower tuition fee to locals, and Guinevere could live at home if she went there.

So absorbed was she in this work that she didn't notice the soccer ball flying off course towards her head. There was a whistling of air as it trailed through the sky, and then a subsequent splash.

Guinevere looked up at the Town Herald from the bottom of the fountain where she was now laying. Her cup of tea bobbed merrily next to her, the leaves spreading out over the water reading nothing into her future except for a very bad day.