Those more crafty at heart, veer off The Runway early, speed walking into the loop that spans the perimeter of the classrooms. Here they can parade past all the classrooms, greeting teachers, chiding and teasing fellow students, thus taking as long as possible to reach their destination. Bragging and exclamations of disbelief are common in the loop, as stories of events from the night before, or some great tidbit of information is released.
At the sharp ring of the bell, chaos culminates in something resembling order as belongings are hurriedly crowded into unyielding lockers. Silence once again has the upper hand in these hallways, but is never quite complete. There is the swish of shoes along the carpet as lines proceed to various destinations throughout the day. Somewhat regularly, there is the loud hurried thump-thump-thump-thump of a rushing student, sure that his speed will be unchecked in the empty corridor. There is the wailing of the unfortunate one who took a swing in the nose, or was out in the cold too long with unsubstantial gloves. Faint echoes of laughter, song, question and thought drift along as they ebb and swell.
Who are these little people who always have another question on hand and whose voice default volume is deafening? Why is it that gravity is constantly getting the better of them, and potential energy is never experienced because they can’t ever be still? How does the word “game” release such a tsunami of energy and enthusiasm? I wonder.