Why I'm participating in Track and Field, I'm uncertain. It's my senior year, peer pressure, lack of an interesting life. I'm just glad it's almost over. I wouldn't say I'm ending on a strong note. After all, this is a Junior Varsity meet and I am the only senior participant. Oh, and the best I could do was place second... In shot put. I would like to say this season has been good for one thing, but it hasn't. Blistered toes, calloused heels, sore muscles, lame Saturdays, pure exhaustion. It even brought me here.
The question asked by friends of mine continues to be, "Why don't you want to talk about what it was like to go to school here?" To this I don't have a good answer. If I wasn't playing mute, they might here something to the likes of, "You can't see it, but in the front I met my best friend of elementary school after getting off the bus for the first time. One day of kindergarden I ran form that small playground back to the bathroom unable to make it in time. In that hallway I found out about September 11 and never looked at the world the same. The bigger playground on the far side of the school is where my best friend and I had our first kisses at the same time. Cassie and Josh, Kyle and I. This track is where we used to walk twice a week in third grade. I would often walk alone because Allison, a new girl who pulled her hair out a lot, wanted to be Cassie's best friend one day and mine the next."
As the bus pulls away I take another look at the warn down brick building I use to call my school and think to myself, I had it made.
I don't quite see this piece pulling together--first graf seems to have wandered in from something else.
ReplyDeleteBut the extended quotation in graf 2 is very nice material. Those kind of randomish memories are very evocative, very stylish--you're in vignette territory with that material.
I agree. I had an idea but I was having a difficult time makingit flow. When I get an idea that I like, I'm a little stubborn about letting it go an it ends up like this.
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