Thread

Connected to posts number
16
and
20
and
25
and
Post number 16

Coming home from school

The bus shudders and shivers. I walk down the aisle. I watch my step. I steady myself on the handholds. This always feels like a long walk. The other kids natter and guffaw, a ceaseless noise. The driver eyes me patiently in the rear-view mirror. He is a kind man called Cyril. I am nearing the doors, and around me the shape of the sound changes as open air beckons. The voices recede. I hop off the bus into a bright and dizzying emptiness. The bus pulls away. I am left at the entrance to the lane that leads to my house, blinking in the sunlight. Somewhere an electric fence ticks like a clock.
Coming home from school always felt like waking up from a foggy dream. The long walk down the bus aisle and standing at the entrance to the lane that led to our house felt like a transition from one world to the another.
Post number 20

The Lane

.."I am nearing the doors, and around me the shape of the sound changes as open air beckons. The voices recede. I hop off the bus into a bright and dizzying emptiness. The bus pulls away. I am left at the entrance to the lane that leads to my house, blinking in the sunlight."...
Post number 25

To Didou

" Maybe it started as we walked to school, to home. Four times a day for six years, different schools, different homes."