Robeless.

It had all started with a fairly good day, the weather was rather good, birds chirped merrily with precision, school looked as welcoming as ever, the alumni were plastered with all sorts of emotions on their faces, the school hall were lined with plastic maroon chairs. All was well.

It was indeed. We sung the school song for the very last time. I had to ask the monitor for the correct lyric placement.

It was all too short a date.

Be it as it may, it was a relief. To be finally set free, free from the cage that acts as a medium for us to gain knowledge, a cage where rules had to be obeyed, a cage where we were spoon-fed with information that ought to bring us success in our future undertakings, a cage that provides chances of bonding with birds of a feather.

And now we are all set free to the world we were taught to take shape as a sphere with breathing living human occupying every limited space of land. With an increase number of patrons, the Hamptons shall face reduction in value.

This memory of my high school life will be kept in a pensive. The stories, the laughters, the tears we shed will be poured out to our successor. Thus, so long the story is read out loud, we become immortal. Like the sonnet 18.

Jusqu'à puis, mes amis. Bonne chance!