I open my door to the cold hallway to greet the overnight potheads and heroin addicts leaning on the torn wallpaper of the corridor, stinking of puke and urine from last night s happy hour. On my way down the corroding stairs I find two happy lovers spending the night together on the stairs sucking face as a homeless version of brushing your teeth in the morning. The door to the streets is hard to open with its rusty hinges and that familiar sound it makes as you open it. Much like the sound of sex on a bed with rusty springs. Outside, I smell the new air breathing to the pulse of a brand new morning.
Love is sweet, families are together and the sidewalk is clean.
The bell rings silencing the overly talkative student body. The volume went from a slight scream to a murmur, and finally to complete silence. First the uniform compliance, then our behavior and then the bad reputation we have given our school. Our school is a hole. Our tables are broken and we get scabs living in the housing commissions sticking their gum in the door locks.