So go up I did. 7:20 in the morning and poetry book tucked into one pocket. Empty corridors, only the swish-swish of some sweeper two floors below.
I ran up the last flight of steps. Came face to face with a new door. Metal. With cross bars. Sharp edged lock. A thin sliver of light sneaking out from underneath.
Typical really of everything else that's happening these days.
6 comments:
Amen.
Aww:)
ey ma.
i asked you not to but secretly i thought you would anyway.and i would then ask you what the chaat is up to these days.
it is not to be.
Boka. I miss you lot so much it's almost embarrassing.
that's really godawful. part of the general reign-of-terror-and-oppression strategy, i suppose.
well, that's that. unless you learn how to pick locks with a pin.
Ah.
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