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The dead apple tree has a large branch I use to jump over the school wall. I have to hold up my too-big pants up while I run from all the old ladies chasing me with their cowlicked hair and wood yardsticks. They couldn’t catch me even if I walked to the tree and it’s ridiculous that they still try. The only reason I ever come and stay all the way until first recess is because of the apples they give us. Of course, it’s expected that we actually stay the whole day. But how can anyone expect me to carry out an entire six-hour sentence every single day when I can be doing better things with my life?
4 Min Read
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