I thought for sure I’d blogged this, but cannot find it via the search.

I remember when this happened. I still have that backpack!

The teacher gave me a score of 9.5 and wrote, “Fully detailed and evocative — your theme is successful.”

Writing #7                                                           Dona Patrick

My usual routine after math on Wednesdays is to clime the stairs by the lounge, shrug off my backpack full of books, and sit on the stone ledge at the front entrance, waiting until 2:05 when I walk to the bust stop my the North Annex. The bus, usually on time, comes at 2:12. One particular Wednesday, though, I thought I'd leave at 2:00, since the driver hadn't been the regular one for the past two days and consequently the busy schedule was a bit messed up.

As I stood up, putting my right arm through the red strap of my heavy backpack and walking to the revolving door, slipping the other strap in place around my left shoulder, I noticed, through the window, that the bus was already on its way down Fleetwood Drive. In a matter of seconds it would be past the bus stop and I would have to wait a half hour for the next bus.

I pushed through the revolving door, not paying attention to the squeaking sound of the rubber around each door on the glass that usually makes me think of a window washer's squeegee. Then I ran: my shoes making a flapping sound on the cement, and my books in their bag, bouncing back and forth on my back. I  passed two well-dressed men, wondering if they thought I was being pursued. All the while I was watching the bus, which by this time had come to a halt. No one was boarding so I wondered if the bus driver perhaps saw me running. I doubted that so I speeded up my pace and reached the bus in what I thought was the nick of time. I paid my fare of one bus token, taking my books off before I collapsed in the nearest unoccupied seat, panting, waiting for the bus to leave. Ten minutes later the driver put the bus in gear and pulled away from the bus stop, back on schedule, seeming unaware of the panic his early arrival had caused.