The Man in the Wreckage

In his 1974 he is 12 years old and he is late for class. He runs as the bell rings but it is no use. When he finally opens the loud squeaky door the teacher shakes her head in disappointment. Find your desk, she says. And that is tricky because he doesn't remember which one was his desk. With both hands he grabs the frame of the wreckage and holds himself back out. Now there is daylight ahead of him. The lulling sound of traffic. A respite from a tedious busy day.