Our school seems to have produced more than its fair share of poets and artists. Where Eton has oft filled the cabinet, our Old Boys have helped to line the walls of the Tate and written the pages of literary magazines.
Outsiders might wonder why but those who walked out through the gate for seven years will know the truth of what we all experienced. Each day we left school and looked out across an awe-inspiring landscape, breathed the fresh air outside the gate and felt like we could do anything.
An adolescence of that is bound to create art.
Outsiders might wonder why but those who walked out through the gate for seven years will know the truth of what we all experienced. Each day we left school and looked out across an awe-inspiring landscape, breathed the fresh air outside the gate and felt like we could do anything.
An adolescence of that is bound to create art.
Written for Friday Fictioneers from the following picture prompt:
Copyright -Jennifer Pendergast
