Friendliness

Cycling home, I saw Clarissa at the bus stop.
She gave me a hearty wave. She was standing
with her friends. They waved too. There was no
irony or spite, just plain open friendliness. It was
hard to believe my good fortune. I pedalled home
in elation. I glided up the hill towards home, like
I was on air. No doubt there would be a complete
interrogation. Instinctively I felt I shouldn’t divulge
to Father how much I’d enjoyed my day. School,
Father thought, should be like a hair shirt. There
was no room for pleasure. I wiped the wide grin
off my face, padlocked and parked my bike, and
resisted the urge to canter upstairs. Mother would
be waiting with tea.

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Author: Robert James Berry

Poet & Novelist