A small pile of snow had gathered upon a spot on the pavement outside the schoolhouse, right next to the slightly ajar gate. The snow that had came last week had all vanished, save for that one pile in the shade. July sunlight had came and made the grasses shine and made the concrete burn–and yet there was one place it could not touch. He laid down in that dark spot, and let the snow be his pillow, and the pavement beneath it a bed of cold, forgotten–yet comfortable–seclusion. The yells of playing children and upperclassmen’s footsteps trotting about the grounds fizzled into obscure bubbles of nothing, drifting up and up and up into the azure of the summer sky until they popped out of existence.
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