AC | winter room for nostalgia

all images (except last one) from my former high school i recently revisited

she was fifteen and crushingly in love. amidst the johnny rottens of the era she found peace in a boy three years her senior, wearing stiff pressed white shirts only, adorned with a silver safety pin, under a black shiny longcoat, his dark bangs a stubborn blaze. 

all images (except last one) from my former high school i recently revisited

soft punk if ever, alongside the even sweeter you're the one that i want. dreamy lunchtimes, shared in a tiny canteen off the main hall, where forks in potatoes and one veg rattled on worn stoneware. and them four, or five punks huddled up together over sarnies. 

all images (except last one) from my former high school i recently revisited

and her. watching their every move, learning fast. all through never ending doses of rotten biology, haughty physics, lamentable latin verse and sweat stinking PE potions, her bets were laying in one camp only : lunchtime break. him. and her. 

all images (except last one) from my former high school i recently revisited

for him she would insult that geology bastard, who courted his dreary self smart. for him she would defy home teacher's prying tongue as she choked on hebban olla vogala, while prévert for french helped her along the way of her wild, if unsophisticated fantasies. 

all images (except last one) from my former high school i recently revisited

however. nostalgia can only bring back so much, never that person nor a given situation. stefanie's winter rooms remind me of keepsake days. and my memory wandered to those few weekends i held, a long, long time ago, called OPEN HOUSE. no more, for now. 

i'll bring the cookies! ☺

thank you though, stefanie, for this recollection that could only stem from your gentle probing. i so wish i was living closer by so i could step right into your saintly world and bring me home an angel. and we could sip liquorice tea, for good (wintertime) measure. ♥