Back to school

This year, for the first time, my mother won’t come. I told her that’s enough, i’m a big boy now. She was a bit disappointed of course, but i think she was quite proud too.
So i’ll walk to school alone and fearlessly, a briefcase in my hand – in my briefcase, a pencase, in this pencase, a red pen, in this red pen, the right or the wrong. My new shoes will probably hurt a little.
All my friends will be there. We’ll ask did you hear ? Did you know ?
Then the bell will ring, louder than our voices, louder even than the smell of coffee.
Downstairs, my classroom, my students. There will be thirty of them, aged 14 or 15 and the miracle will take place: i’ll start speaking and they’ll listen.