There it is. It gives me a gillygooly feeling, even after twenty years. I remember when we were just kids, Tony and I. We were always in trouble. Mrs Hickey rapping our knuckles with the ruler and sending us to the library to write lines. That’s all I remember about school – Tony and I in trouble.
Now look at us. We’re bigger and uglier but not much different.
Tony’s getting out tomorrow. The Mrs isn’t happy. She wanted us to upsticks and go to Oz before he got out. Reckons we could have made something of ourselves. I reckon this is as good as it gets.
For 100 consecutive days I will write and post a short story (about 100 words) incorporating a randomly selected word from Afterliff: A new dictionary of things there should be words for.
Anxious, nostalgic and relieved all at once as you walk past your old school.
The disappointing pretend cough a non-smoker produces in the vicinity of smokers.