09th Mar 2009
3rd and 4th grade nostalgia
starting school in the 70’s was always done on crisp blue sun shinny days. Neat green grass wrapped the squat brick buildings of tan with their flat roof metal entrances. The halls polished brightly from a summer spent buffing by janitors I never remember seeing. Gray lockers lined the walls, longing to be filled with books and new memories even as the combinations locked away dreams from last year. Hard blue or green plastic chairs curved for your rump sat on top of thick chrome covered legs resisting the urge to be pulled out. Desks lined in columns. Wood pressured in layers, pale in the morning sunshine lying on gray metal hollows wait to conceal notes, snacks and other expected contraband. The red headed girl… still sun streaked from summer with a light touch of freckles still talking to you like a friend, resisting the urge to join the rest of the girls in their groups. So much hope and possibility.
starting school in the 70’s was always done on crisp blue sun shinny days. Neat green grass wrapped the squat brick buildings of tan with their flat roof metal entrances. The halls polished brightly from a summer spent buffing by janitors I never remember seeing. Gray lockers lined the walls, longing to be filled with books and new memories even as the combinations locked away dreams from last year. Hard blue or green plastic chairs curved for your rump sat on top of thick chrome covered legs resisting the urge to be pulled out. Desks lined in columns. Wood pressured in layers, pale in the morning sunshine lying on gray metal hollows wait to conceal notes, snacks and other expected contraband. The red headed girl… still sun streaked from summer with a light touch of freckles still talking to you like a friend, resisting the urge to join the rest of the girls in their groups. So much hope and possibility.
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