purple tiger
Photo by my niece, with permission

In second grade we had open house with Ms. Norwood. It was not open nor a house. It was a dark school. The playground was ready for bedtime. Lights out, wrapped in blankets. I was behind stage waiting for a performance. Was I supposed to be quiet? Would there be xylophones?

Adults with their smells, hair, and complicated jewelry mulled about the classrooms. Their bodies drifted like planets in orbit, dwarfing anything close. They…