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EXPLORE

 
 
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School. A seemingly ordinary day. The usual learning. The usual recess. The usual rambunctiousness. Even the unusual seemed usual, though the small projectile wasn't a wad of paper, but a rock, and the target, the usual target, was the kid who didn't quite fit in.

 
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England. London. The Blitz. Is this a good time to be playing the piano?

 
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1942. World War Two. A plane, bound for India, touches down in North Africa. Among the crew, an American flyer. A few hours to rest. But the day is long and blazing hot. He finds a cafe shaded by palms. Several priests are there, drinking coffee hotter than the day. "So you are a Christian." they say. "Perhaps you have heard this story."

 
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A girl on a swing. On her leg, something odd. A boy is pushing her. What's this? She's bailing out? Whatever can this mean?

 
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Who walks with you in the forest mist?

 
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Homework. Boring. Nothing of interest in books. When will you ever use this? Much better things to do. Much better. But still have to write. Write what? A paper. Oh no, what could be worse. Sitting in class. Have to write a paper. Something on the Tsar. Anastasia? Forgot my pen. Now what? Maybe she has one. You'll ask her.

 
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