The Curious Dichotomy of Dullness
The girl had an edge. The trouble was, it took a great deal to find it. It was like rubbing up against a dull knife only to find the one sharp spot with the center of your thumb. She bit. And she was judged for it.
But she didn't care. She didn't mind mostly being dull. Mostly, because she couldn't have born her edge had it been all of her. She took to honing her edge with the greatest care, and letting the rest of the dullness blanket the rest of her in bits of rust.
It came in handy with enemies.
Seemingly dull people always have enemies. Strangely, jealousy is often involved. Enemies of dull people tend to have anxiety problems, which isn't true for mostly dull people. They wanted her calm. Not that her enemies ever realized what it was about her that tickled their envy.
The girl used her edge to a purpose. It was designed for precision. It wielded her mind and turned it into a razor. Her enemies were right to unknowingly long for her gift.
Because, unlike them, she never once had a dull moment.
And, unlike them, when the moment was right, she shown.