First impression of the school corridors: bulletin boards, artwork, and the reek of disinfectants.
I pace in the rectangle of light from the doorway.
"I'll stick around for an hour" becomes "I'll stay all night."
They tried to console him in his grief by telling him that other people have suffered too. But when does that approach work? Did they think other people's pain would ease his own, or that it would be a good idea to somehow shame him out of his sorrow?
A powerful mental rush where I feel focused and thirsty for knowledge.
The kids have been coached to repeat lines, hop on cue and wiggle around dancing when the teacher tells them to. They're old enough to start feeling embarrassed by the silliness, especially because it's orchestrated by adults and not spontaneous.
She says, "I'm worried." What she doesn't say is, "I need to control you." But those other words are there, whether she realizes it or not. I'm not going to pretend they aren't.