Post number 6
Connected to posts number
You move less. You hover by the wire fence. The other children maul and romp. You watch the ground, scuff gravel, step a little dance between the pieces of flattened gum. Your mouth shapes words. You shrug and nod. Your fingers never leave the wire mesh, anchored at arm's length. You remind me of myself.
The Wire Fence
I was working on a mural for a primary school when I noticed one boy standing apart from the other kids. He stayed close to the wire fence that ringed the playground. We had a similar wire fence at my primary school, and I have strong memories of hanging around there, holding on to the diamond-shaped wire links, watching the other kids play. So this boy reminded me of myself, and I almost wanted to tell him that he wouldn't always feel this way.