Computer #20.
{

I lived a solitary existence this morning.

Punctuated only by a French teacher's exuberant "Bonjour, Émilie!"

School is changing.

A Latin teacher's leaving,

<em>Gone sailin', and I ain't comin' back.</em>


Really, I wouldn't want to live it again.

if (I go back in time) {


things might change

}

and there are enough things changing in the present;


Who's majoring in English, she asks as we sit at those small rectangles of table

One person.

And she leans over to look at my paper: languages. Not what she didn't expect.


I second-guessed myself in Italian, as

I need to stop doing.

Confused a French class;

discussed tomatoes in calculus;

and tried to not cry while we discussed leaving this corner for college, for England, the future.

<em>Hic terr?rum mihi praeter omn?s angulus ridet.</em>


Au revoir to the classroom with the flags

Val?te omn?s to the blue dictionaries, the chalkboard, everything in knowing each other for five long years.

Arrivederci to the bulletin board above my head

Goodbye,
goodbye,
goodbye;
}