A străluci nu e o crimă
End of term. The hallway smells of marker and photocopies; on the bulletin board, many starred notes. She walks noiselessly
End of term. The hallway smells of marker and photocopies; on the bulletin board, many starred notes. She walks noiselessly
Afternoons two weeks in a row become long. The bedroom door is closed and the pillow gets wetter and wetter. In high school
It’s recess in elementary school. The rubber floor burns in the sun and the fountain drips out of rhythm. In the bathroom window
At the change of class, I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror under the white light. The hallway smelled of cologne and wet paper
It was the change of classes at the high school. Lockers opened and closed like accordions
It was late in the day, the hallway was damp and the evening light was streaming in through the windows. Lockers were closing slowly
It was CM2 recess, and the playground smelled of hot rubber and spilled juice on the ground. The sun was bouncing hard off the goal
It was a gray morning outside the high school. The kiosk smelled of licorice and cold coins
It was a bright morning. On the kitchen table, notebooks lay open next to a mug that was still steaming. The pace of study was set
It was a cold morning. The bus was rattling and fogging up the windows; the seats were shaking as it passed through the traffic circle