The bus bumps forward jerkily, lurches back abruptly, and drives on after reversing out the school gates. Banana peels fly rampantly across the aisle, accompanied by raucous shouts of laughter.
Angry teachers stand up and clap their hands angrily.
One slips on a banana peel and falls on her bottom in a tangle of flowery skirts and black leather heels. Then dirty jokes are yelled out with gusto, and chewing gum finds its way into the girls' hair, and chaos reigns as usual. Throughout the noisy scene, a girl sits alone at the back of the bus, arms folded, ankles crossed, face gazing out the window, expressionless. Her hands are still and clenched in fists, but in her mind they are ever moving, flitting about to weave the cloth she will later stitch into bright, vivid tapestries of her daydreams. Her lips are closed, but as she rides on the mist of her fantasies, they sing out in joy, bright songs of butterflies and happy dreams, and mourn soulfully in lamentations of lost love and dark shadows.