You Can Be A Real Pretender

Comfort

comfort 2When I was a skinny, blond-haired kid there wasn’t much talking goin’ on. I was kinda quiet and low-keyed.

At school, I would inhale the giggles and chatter that bounced off the blue-tinted walls and floated ‘round the classroom.

Still, I was accepted because we were in a school where classmates stayed together. We just changed rooms each year; it created a closeness.

Then came High School and nothing would ever be the same.

comfort 6I had to leave my beloved school for a stone, cold building that looked like a for-real castle. It had stories that climbed up toward the clouds.

On the first day it took five minutes before I had the nerve to go inside.

It was bedlam.

My heart pounded, sweat dripped onto my lashes as hundreds of
people ran up and down the hallways like ants settin’ up a home front.

Bells rang … all the time. It was rowdy and raucous. And scary. I was never able to participate, was glad to leave.

I don’t know if the school ever changed but I did.

(Find out how in Part II)

May Your Glass Always Be Half Full

News from home: Hi y’all. Pray everyone is okay. I’m doing good, not
too much pain. The stitches come out Thursday 9th. Do my best for Fri.
Real Pretender? Sounds like an oxymoron.

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About Maxi

Hi … I'm Maxi, a retiree with an addiction. I have quit: raising kids, cleaning house, cooking, doing laundry—there is no end the list—everything is done on "have to." The addiction? Writing to my last breath. blessings ~ maxi
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