A Deep Blue Sky

Chapter 6 -  Ledger The bridges burst and twist around And wanting something warm and moving Bends towards herself the soothing Proves that she must still exist She moves herself about her fist Sweet communist The communist daughter Standing on the sea-weed water Semen stains the mountain tops– Neutral Milk Hotel, The Communists Daughter The years marched on by, crawling and leaping in the unpredictable way years can after the fact. The three boys, separated by race and age were brought together, closer than most others were by their shared secret, sharing joy and sharing fear, sharing lives.  The resentment El felt towards Art, that at first threatened to drive the boys apart had melted quickly away, helped greatly by Art’s reliance on El as a mentor in the art of growing dim. Saj did not have the patience in his heart to be an effective teacher, even with his greatest friends, and the three boys experimented and tested the limits of their fantasti...

Chapter 5 - Crossroads I'm glad I came here with your pound of flesh No second billing 'cause you're a star now – Hole, Celebrity Skin “Sajan Thapa, people called me Saj.” “People call me Art." The blonde boy introduced himself, looking searchingly at Saj.  " Saj… Oh yeah I know you. You’re the head masters kid yeah, the twin of Raveena? The one who got knocked out? I thought you’d left the school?” Saj had been quite embarrassed about the connection to the head master, and especially wary of talking about the day Thomas Prince had hospitalised him, even with El. Saj was shy, and this shyness manifested itself in a deep and profound secretiveness about his family. Even El, who was his best friend did not know much about Saj's family, apart from his father being the head master. That Art knew this, that Art had remembered this shone a penetrating light into the fog of mystery that Saj had hoped he'd created around himself. In most insta...

Chapter 4 – The Blonde Boy You should make amends with you If only for better health, But if you really want to live Why not try, and make yourself – Incubus, Make Yourself Thomas Prince had not forgotten the two boys, nor would he. His time in seclusion had left him in a foul temper, and when he was liberated from his confinement into the corridors again he was looking for someone to release the pent up temper on. The squad had quickly fallen in line behind him as he haunted the west wing of the school, shoulder barging his way through crowds and tripping younger students, his preferred self-transportation. Uniforms we compulsory at the school, dark trousers and white shirts for the boys, skirts opinioal for the girls. Navy and red stripes ties were part of the uniform, with an optional blazer. The Squad flouted the uniform rules in the small and petty ways the unimaginative will; trainers and untucked shirts, ties worn loose and dark jeans instead of the trousers ...