Firecrackers

I finished an hour early, by eleven, and I got up to turn the papers in, returning to the office. The secretary smiled at me, but then I could hear something that sounded like firecrackers in the distance. It took me a moment, but I stiffened as I worked out what those sounds must be.

Given the amount of insulation the thick walls of the school provided, and the 190 decibels at the point of origin of most grenades, those firecracker sounds were likely coming from no more than a block away. Crap.

“Those are grenades,” I said.

“They sound like firecrackers,” the secretary said. Agnes was busy elsewhere.

“I'm from Winslow,” I said. I raised my voice. “And I know what grenades sound like.”

***

First Day