She was like a ghost chili.
That is to say from the sound of it, she would be spectral, damp, aloof and chilly, but in fact she was more of a fiery personality, one that required great mouthfuls of rice to subdue and vanquish. So, I would never go over to her place without a crock pot full of rice.
It was that one time she was out in the garden, withering the weeds, when I saw a neighbor's cat approaching her, or something behind her, and she reached over to grab an oxalis. The cat proffered a fully armed claw at her hand and glanced it. When the animal pulled it back to lick it, its ears shot back, its fur erected, and it shot off into the woods with an understandably pitiful caterwaul. Her very blood was thick with capsaicin.
Yet, there was much to recommend her. At a school board meeting, it was difficult to oppose her motions. There's an annual contest of badminton, and she was a very safe bet. And like a pepper, she was most spicy in her seeds, in this case her progeny and her thoughts.
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