Round glasses, pink with colourful splotches. Mustard tie, grey cardigan buttoned up and restricting. Green and pink satchel with yellow clasps that click closed in that satisfying way. First day of school picture on the patio in the garden. Faded hopscotch. Curls tied up in a ponytail. Pleated skirt. Shiny black shoes. Fluttering stomach. Feeling of dread. Long walk to school.
The smell of the wet bay. Plasticine. Snacks go in the snack
box. Crisps and apples placed in the plastic blue basket until break time.
Blue jelly-like paint, hard to spread.
Sitting on the floor. White cotton socks, long. Roll them down
and roll them up and roll them down. Listening.
Playing families. Baby crawls through mummy’s legs when
being born.
Playing house. A boy in an apron and bonnet, cooking.
First kiss at six years old. Holding hands with the ginger
boy who makes me laugh.
The caretaker has a gun and has shot a kid before. That’s what
they say.
Posing with candy sticks like they are cigarettes. The box
has a cartoon on it but the sticks feel funny and don’t taste nice. Powdery texture.
Putting Hula Hoops on every finger like wedding rings and
eating them off our hands.
Sharing lunch by playing “scramble”. Food in the middle of the
table. First one to grab it gets to keep it. Or swapsies. Simple trades.
Stories. Home time. Chairs on tables. Afternoon prayers.
Walk home. Hold Daddy’s hand. Chatter about the day. Cross
at the lights. Walk through the ginnel. Home. Mum is making pie. Meat and potato. Gravy. Daddies Sauce. Baby carrots. I want to write a story. What should I write about? Daddy says write about the brown sauce bottle that runs away from home. Tells me a rhyming story about a pair of men who shot each other with swords. It is a strange story.
Sitting on the floor. Colouring, drawing.
Bed time. Upstairs is dark and scary. Simpsons bed spread.
Teddies in a row. Dolls on the bed. Story time. Paddington Bear. Tuck me in.
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