Outside the school leaves were on the ground, all green and orange and yellow. A group of adults were talking on the corner by the bench that you could jump from. They had deep, grown-up voices and were saying things about stuff – countries in the world and money and things. Oh, the world is a mess, one said, the world is a mess. He ran off away from them all across the grass to the trees. They didn’t chase him or anything. He put his satchel down on the ground. The park was so big and like an adventure.
The weather was changeable. Some people said the summer was over but, depending on where in the world your eyes were focused, a different picture emerged. The newspapers said it was still silly season. TV ads said it was back to school time. The cricket and the football seasons ran in parallel. In a photo on the internet all the trees’ leaves were lush and green. But that was May. Now, outside, the leaves had started to curl at the edges and yellow. Maybe everything would fade into white and September would crumble into dust. The forecast was for storms.