Suffer Little Children

I live near a school.  A girl’s school.  Being sensitive to high-pitched tones,  some of the squealing would make me loathe going in and coming out times.  I remembered, though, that it was just the same when I was at school and and that’s just the way it is.  I must have dealt with it better then, or perhaps the simple joy of my escape from drab, stinky boxes filled with the threat of exploding zits was such relief that I became immune, temporarily, to the sound, leaving the local hounds to suffer in silence, until the sudden footfall had passed. Continue reading

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