[10: in what ways do you indulge yourself]

The door slammed and Meera stood there, sopping wet and sobbing. The rain
pelted the house behind her and she cursed under her breath.

Uncle Ram looked up from his vantage point in the parlor, able to see into
the hallway but half hidden by objects inside the room. Meera startled, not
expecting anyone to hear her outburst.

"What did you just say?" Meera bit her lip and stifled a second run of
cursing.  Ram looked back at his book. 

"My ride left me at the village. Practically pushed me out of the car,
laughing the whole time. Said something about 'prissy princess and teaching
my rag-headed family a lesson about a real English winter'"

Ram visibly shook, but said nothing, and kept reading his book. Meera
flounced far enough to drop her books in the hallway, then stormed back out
of the house, slamming the huge door behind her.

If she was going to cry, she thought, she'd rather be out in the deluge. She
stalked around the garden, stomping the rough path that the gardener used to
trim the back side of the hedges, and then stormed out onto the moor. 

She realized she'd never been far past the back garden, never had the time
to go explore. Today, that left a pit of rage in her stomach, and she
decided to indulge it. She glowered at the line of rocks on the hill ahead,
and marched her way toward it.