memory

Memory // 10

to be published on Mondays. 

When I was about 15 the school dining room was closed during the summer term. Instead each day we had tokens to get a brown paper lunch bag. They would be handed out at points around the school, with a fierce scrum to get a good one. The best was the pesto pasta salad with mozzarella pearls.

We would sit round the back of the sports hall, the metal ridges of the fire escape stairs digging in to our thighs and eat with small black plastic cutlery. And talk. Endless talking.

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Midweek Memory /7

I remember sitting in prize giving assembly on the last Friday of term when I was 17. As each prize I was eligible for was called out, I would imagine my name called and how strange that would be. My name was called, for the outstanding contribution to the school award. I remember it all as a blur, a blushing & grinning blur. I took a quick peek out into the audience as I collected it, and shook hands with the headmistress- a sea of faces, hands clapping. It was then I realised that really, it’s not acting that I love- it’s just being on a stage.

(Though I do quite like acting too- the drama one was in fact the only other prize I ever won in my entire school career)

 

Midweek Memory /3

I came out of an operation when I was 13 or so, and my friend and boyfriend were there to see me. I was still high from the anaesthesia, and had a scrape inside my throat. I bit into one of the celebration tin-full of brownies that my friend had brought me and had to spit it out because my throat hurt, and the food felt so strange. I subsequently also bled onto my boyfriend’s shoulder. But as I said- I was high, and happy. I remember the corridor swimming around me.

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