33. Classroom


“…and here is your classroom.” The headmistress walked into a dusty, old room. If Ab wasn’t fluent in Arabic, he would’ve thought she was introducing the storage room. He kept his polite smile though. A cloud of dust rose from under his foot on the creaky floor. “It is nice, some cleaning and it’ll be fantastic! Welcome to school again, Mr. Botros.” She bowed her head, “I’ll leave you two alone.”

Ab scoffed lightly. “Well… hi. I’m Ab. I’ll be here for quite some time.” Sixty years later, he was still in a classroom, with that same big old desk.