Christmas at the Boarding School

DEC 17-JAN 18 | Fiction

This is an old story, a school story. I was in the third row and he was in the second, near the entrance. He had arrived in September and sometimes, when he wasn’t busy listening in class, sharpening a pencil or writing an assignment, he looked around looking a bit lost, as if he’d just gotten off an airplane and didn’t know where he was.