Another One Hundred Waiting Words

Every Sunday we were expected to attend Hebrew classes. My dad took us on the bus every week and we made our own way back three hours later. Eventually I decided I did not want to go any more but instead of pleading with my parents as I did every week with no success we decided to skip the classes and make a long slow three hour walk home. We developed a routine, stopped outside shop windows, spent our bus money on sweets and checked out the local cinema, until eventually, cold, full of lies and guilt, we arrived home.