Non-School Uniform Day
I loved Nirvana, but they don’t arrive in north London. This is a time of block heels, scrunches and big black bomber jackets with orange lining. I am not wearing any of these things.
I wear a baggy black Guns n’ Roses t-shirt logo and over that a red checkered shirt. I have denim cut-off shorts over navy-blue leggings. On my feet I wear Converse-style high tops. My long hair, with its purple streak, almost reaches my waist. I feel ready for high school drama and adventure, with a soundtrack by Simple Minds and Tears for Fears because I have trouble accepting Chaka Demus and Pliers have anything to say about my life.
Before I get to school I know I’ve made a terrible terrible mistake. In our form room, I sit near the front and I keep myself still…[read more]
“Daren doodled whilst he was on the phone to his daughter, only half-listening to her news about Sarah and Daniel’s new baby, Libby’s chickenpox and the Westbrooks from down the roadwho had put up a new satellite dish. The satellite dish obscured the view of the windmill, she said. Daren responded with the appropriate noises, and his daughter carried on.
His doodles filled the back of an unopened bank statement, he looked carefully and realised he’d drawn it again. A bird, serpent shaped, long with a dragon’s tail. He’d not drawn it for years, but today it had appeared out of nowhere in between the shaded cubes and swirly lines…[read more]