The dying cat part 1

I play the violin. The violin, if you were wondering, is a string instrument, smaller that a viola. It can sound very beautiful, especially when played in an orchestra, but also like a dying cat. If I am in a bad mood it often sounds like the latter.

On a Wednesday morning, me and 🦉 have String Ensemble club (for some reason ensemble is pronounced on-som-bll) and straight after school we have a violin lesson. That means that we must never forget to take our violins home after school.

Obviously, we forgot the very first Wednesday. It was bound to happen.

“Ok, off you go! Have a nice evening!” It was PSHE, the last lesson on a Wednesday, and was it just me or did the teacher look relieved to see the back of us? Anyway, we were in a very chatty mood, and (obviously) the end of the day is the best part, because who doesn’t want to go home after seven and a half hours of school?

🦉 and I walked to the door, and followed our classmates outside: so far so good. We scuttled down the corridor (Ok, scuttled makes us sound like crabs, but I couldn’t think of a better verb), dragging our outrageously heavy school bags behind us. This was the moment where our day changed forever.

We should have turned left; we should have climbed the stairs to the school music room to collect our dying cat- sorry, violins. But no. We carried on walking, down the staircase to the playground.

And here, it would’ve been easy to turn back. Yeah, we’d’ve been like four minutes late home, but no one was going to notice. However, before you can say idontlikemondays, we were out of the gates, walking home.

We were round the corner. We were past the place where there was an old t-shirt on the floor. We were at the end of the street. We were across the road, walking down another street. Across another road.

It was then that we realised.

It was then that we realised what what we had done.

More on Saturday! 😁

Published by Lily

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