Escape into tranquillity. The scent of books reassures, beckons me in. A world of wonder fills the shelves. Some volumes stand atop high bookcases, tantalisingly out of reach of a small boy. Poe, Hardy, so many authors call to me.

I sit, the only sound that of a clock ticking and the occasional turning of a page. Engrossed, safe from the hurly burly of the playground. Footsteps pass the door. I hold my breath, friend or foe? Will I be chased out to god’s fresh air?

Sometimes the footsteps pass, peace lays her gentle hand on me once moreand I return to my books. On other occasions the door opens and a friendly teacher enquires what I am reading. An exchange ensues, oh the delights of not being talked down to, discussing books man to man with a kind adult.

The dreaded voice

“go outside and get some fresh air. Play with your peers”.

Sadly the book is replaced and, casting a backward glance I exit the peaceful harbour to swim in a sea of children.