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school memories

aarwen

To Give or Not to Give..

thinking

Many many years ago, so many that I no longer remember how many, I remember writing an essay for my school magazine. During a train journey, a thin little girl had sung while holding her infant brother in her arms. The coins that people threw into her tin bowl had held strange haunting music of their own. I must have seen beggars before, but this girl had felt real. Real enough that I had written about her. My teachers had…

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Espresso Shots

What she learnt at school that day…: A short story

going back to school short story

She had hoped to take the bus to the school, but as usual, had allowed herself to get distracted by one last hallway discussion which truth be told could easily have been deferred. If one were to dig deeper, the true reason for the delay was the subconscious opposition to walking in the cold. For it was cold that morning. She was still distractedly typing on her phone, the elevator deciding to stop at every other floor, when she realized…

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aarwen

Last night.. I danced…

last night dance

Last night, in a jumble of dreams, I danced… I was back in the newly built school auditorium. Now that I know more, I realise it wasn’t as magnificent as I thought it to be back then. No ornate columns, not even a carpet. Just a rectangular block of concrete, not even fully painted. With only a single raised platform. I remember, grand or not – didn’t matter to me then, it didn’t matter now. I remember leaning against an open…

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