Don’t even look at him
Noon at the neighborhood school. Lunch is the most valuable thing in the backpack. At home, a small and too quiet apartment: mom comes in and out
Between doorbells and headphones
It is the first quarter of ESO. The bell honks and the lights vibrate overhead. He crosses the hallway with helmets on – they protect him from the noise
Shining is not a crime
End of term. The hallway smells of marker and photocopies; on the bulletin board, many starred notes. She walks noiselessly
When anger reaches recess
It’s noon in the courtyard. The sun streaks the painted benches. A group of girls occupy the shade, as if it were their own
An eye patch to see better
Preschool, Mexico, 1993. The room smells of play dough and juice in a sachet. The sun streaks in, there are worn crayons on the table
Noise, earphones and respect
Senior year of high school. In English class it’s all noise: fluorescent lights sizzle, chairs shuffle, people talk loudly. He enters with
Learned silence
It’s afternoon on the playground. A group of older boys take over the basket; the floor smells of rubber and competition
Not without respect
It’s the first weeks of school. Everything smells like new books and wet sweatshirts. Matthew enters the school in clean
Trash in my backpack
Late morning. The classroom smells of marker and lunchboxes, and the light slants in over the desks. As you sit down
It smells good
Friday afternoon class. The building is breathing slowly and the sun is bending through the glass. In the second module, Alexandra