Seventeen – Dorothy’sDoor
I open the front door of the hostel. Toanother world. Although I’ve been here for three months everythingis new after home. It’s like I’ve been let out and let in. I feel abit like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz.
There is no one about. In front of me is theimposing Edwardian staircase which leads to the dormitories. Ialways expect Henry Higgins to come charging down them ranting andraving something about phonetics. Fortunately tonight I am sparedthis performance.
Just off the lobby is the study room. I taketentative steps inside to my cubicle and place my briefcase on thedesk. I hang my school clothes on the partition. A few guys havetheir heads in books or are writing furiously. The rest arewatching television or playing table tennis. It’s seven o’clock. Noone
