Stories and News No. 781
According to UNICEF, the wars in Iraq, Syria, Libya, Yemen and Sudan deprived of education 13.7 million children...
One day, normal, but different.
It’s morning.
Very soon, much earlier when you should look for light.
There is one of them that gets up from the place he may call bed.
He rubs his eyes.
In vain.
Because that is all true.
Dream and nightmare effortlessly mingle, because no one ever taught the difference.
This is the remaining school.
Essential, frugal of advices, but it has its subjects.
Mathematics is always the most difficult, even in the page to quickly turn in the great book of worldly things.
Numeracy is learned very early and the teachers are many.
Everyone, let's say.
All feel entitled to interrogate you, to put you to the test.
It’s an examination without end.
This is war, a test that has a very clear start time, written on the blackboard in large letters, so unwieldy, that there is no room for anything.
Let alone the end time.
Literature is a true pleasure, really.
Reading and writing are the real treasure of the surviving young souls.
Discovering words between an explosion and the other, which in most cases are verbs.
Namely, actions, fast and indispensable ones, to learn with abilities that you do not even know to have at your age.
How to run and jump, forget and eat, naming some.
Everything quickly.
And then, if there is still time, tattooing precious memories on the remaining paper, just like the school.
But do not be fooled, the remaining paper is a serious advantage.
Because you get used to trace where you want, freeing yourself from legalized slavery of a minor power outage or an annoying battery.
Geography is not the best.
It’s sadistic and disappointing, all students of the remaining school agree.
You do not have time to become fond of the profile of a hill, the design you've done in the head, the country name you finally learned to pronounce, because suddenly you have to start over.
You know, the book was updated.
By enemies or saviors, seamless.
On one thing, however, our students are lucky.
No parent has ever had to force them doing their homework.
Because there are none of them.
There's no need.
And because the school perfectly knows that the next day, and all those to come, there is only one task to accomplish.
In the morning.
Very soon, much sooner than you should look for light.
Get up from what you can call bed.
And after being rubbed them.
Please, open your eyes.
Again.
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According to UNICEF, the wars in Iraq, Syria, Libya, Yemen and Sudan deprived of education 13.7 million children...
One day, normal, but different.
It’s morning.
Very soon, much earlier when you should look for light.
There is one of them that gets up from the place he may call bed.
He rubs his eyes.
In vain.
Because that is all true.
Dream and nightmare effortlessly mingle, because no one ever taught the difference.
This is the remaining school.
Essential, frugal of advices, but it has its subjects.
Mathematics is always the most difficult, even in the page to quickly turn in the great book of worldly things.
Numeracy is learned very early and the teachers are many.
Everyone, let's say.
All feel entitled to interrogate you, to put you to the test.
It’s an examination without end.
This is war, a test that has a very clear start time, written on the blackboard in large letters, so unwieldy, that there is no room for anything.
Let alone the end time.
Literature is a true pleasure, really.
Reading and writing are the real treasure of the surviving young souls.
Discovering words between an explosion and the other, which in most cases are verbs.
Namely, actions, fast and indispensable ones, to learn with abilities that you do not even know to have at your age.
How to run and jump, forget and eat, naming some.
Everything quickly.
And then, if there is still time, tattooing precious memories on the remaining paper, just like the school.
But do not be fooled, the remaining paper is a serious advantage.
Because you get used to trace where you want, freeing yourself from legalized slavery of a minor power outage or an annoying battery.
Geography is not the best.
It’s sadistic and disappointing, all students of the remaining school agree.
You do not have time to become fond of the profile of a hill, the design you've done in the head, the country name you finally learned to pronounce, because suddenly you have to start over.
You know, the book was updated.
By enemies or saviors, seamless.
On one thing, however, our students are lucky.
No parent has ever had to force them doing their homework.
Because there are none of them.
There's no need.
And because the school perfectly knows that the next day, and all those to come, there is only one task to accomplish.
In the morning.
Very soon, much sooner than you should look for light.
Get up from what you can call bed.
And after being rubbed them.
Please, open your eyes.
Again.
Read other stories about life
Stories with subtitles
Also on Stories and News: