King Arthur

January 21, 2010
By , New York, NY
At the age of three, I walk into a strange, unknown yellow room, the size of a mansion. Hovering below the ceiling are posters with many different strange markings on them in many different colors. Some posters are red, some blue, but most of them are yellow. The markings on the posters are all black, dark blue, or purple. It’s hard to get a good glimpse at these posters and other things attached to the ceiling by see-through string because the ceiling is as tall as the great pyramids in Egypt. As my elevated vision becomes neutral, I see a neat set of shelves under a space-like carpet of the new legos, building blocks, and board games. All of these are a spectacle of colors, and attract my special attention, as I know that I will be my first priority once I get free time. My mom snaps me out of my trance of future Lego constructions, and I immediately see the wooden chairs that are the size of a king’s throne surrounding a table the radius of King Arthur’s round table. I hoist myself up on a throne, ignoring my mom’s help for the task. One of the two strangers at the table, starting moving he lips in a weird way, and I gather anything from what she was saying. It isn’t clear what was going on, and my mom nudged me to talk, so I start talking about soccer and what a great sport it is, as I can’t hear what anyone is saying. Right now, no one, not even my mother or me, knows I am deaf. So responding with one hundred percent illogical answers brought up some questions. This is my first school interview for entry to a school that I would surprisingly be accepted into the 3’s classroom.

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