Tuesday, November 1

notes from the bus:

the little girl sat alone. her mother sat at the front with her baby sister and spoke to her in a pretty sounding foreign language.
women on the bus smiled at them.
the little girl sat at the back near me. she was about 4 years old.
she had olive skin and shiny black hair. she sat very still and looked out of the window. she wore a tatty pale pink shawl over a school uniform.
she held in her hand a small green leaf and she never let go of it. she took a school book from a red bag. she opened the book and gazed at the mysterious, joined-up handwriting of her teacher as though she understood every word.
she looked happy.
she kept herself to herself.

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