The resultant of the letter was that i had to wear a shite shirt and pant and a black and yellow striped tie and would have to go to a place called a school everyday at 7:30 in the morning.
On the first day all of us sat in a place called the round chapel. None of us knew the other person. It was so foreign to me. I did not like it. I sat there with a glum face waiting for something to happen, when the black curly haired boy next to me asked "What is the time?"
I stared at him with a surprised look. I had no clue about who he was, and what he meant (i also belive even he did not know what he was asking). I told him i had no idea about the time, and he did not look dissappointed. It was more like he was happy that someone had responded to him.
This curly haired boy was with me through thirteen years of my life in school and even after that. Today when i speak to him, i still feel the same fresh sense of smell called friendship that he had brought into my life with that first attempt of conversing with me.
Dedicated to the curly haired boy
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