Eighteen – Approach FromAnother Side
Next morning I am up early. I beat thehostel bell and shower before anyone else. I am on breakfast dutyroster this week and make my way to the dining room. Stainlesssteel jugs of milk from the server bench alongside the kitchen arewaiting to be delivered to the tables. Upturned plastic bowls forma weird landscape on ten tables. The four hostel masters have atable also but I am glad that I am spared the duty of waiting onthem this time.
For a second I reel from the comparisonbetween home and hostel. Order has replaced chaos. The smell ofcooking is removed. The discrete waft of a large pot of baked beanshas replaced home cured bacon, sheep’s guts, an open fire and myfather’s runaway farts. There is still a bit of the apprehensiveDorothy around.
Another
