She felt like scratching her fore-arm under the red wooly jumper and the long sleeved shirt.The brown loafers were sticking to the soles of her feet,clinging to the wetness of her toes like she was walking on melted plastic or soft sticky nougat.Her mother had told her to dress warmly and casually.Sam knew better than to listen to her mother who constantly wore her blue and ivory scarf and linen trousers.As her feet met the coolness of the tiny-sized sandpit and the hardness of the gravel,little drops of sweat were trickling down her forehead.
It wasn't the first time she was changing schools and her parents' unusual habit of dragging her with them around the world did not surprise her.St-John high school appeared different than the other schools she had known;built of red and orange brick and standing tall over a large green oval used for gym classes,it resembled her father's office quarters.Gypsy had remained in the blue ford but her incessant barking and growling as her paws were scratching the slightly opened window,could be heard over the parking lot and in the grey unshaded yard.
The English teacher (Ms Peacock) was waving her arms wildly like a drowning victim,telling her parents about the classrooms and the renovations perfomed on the school recently.
"The girls bathroom,you'll be pleased to know,has been freshly renovated and a new lighting and air ventilation system has been installed.A year ago,it was quite gloomy and shabby and smelled more like a horses' stables than a girls'lavatory!"
The air was thick and sultry.Crossing the stony yard seemed like an endless task under the steamy summer sun.(...)
Sam peered behind some skimpy bushes into a classroom.She could see shadows walking listlessly behind curtains and heard a strange guttural call coming from one of them.Language courses?(...)
Sam was following the trio from a small distance.She would be staying with her aunts for a couple of months while her mother and father were in London tending to business.The client in London was apparently very impatient.(...)
As soon she was in the building,she relaxed her muscles and breathed in the stale air of the long corridor.She started running to keep up with her parents and panted as she approached them.(...)
Sam was silent on the way to the hotel.She sat admiring the verdant coasts.The rays of the sun were gently caressing the lofty shores and a soft wind was blowing through the dense vegetation.St-John was a small touristic town built near a flat ocean.It settled on curvy ,montainous land and expanded into a small port.The multicolored,wooden boats of the fishermen nearby swayed to the rythme of the ripples on the surface of the water.
She felt like scratching her fore-arm under the red wooly jumper and the long sleeved shirt.The brown loafers were sticking to the soles of her feet,clinging to the wetness of her toes like she was walking on melted plastic or soft sticky nougat.Her mother had told her to dress warmly and casually.Sam knew better than to listen to her mother who constantly wore her blue and ivory scarf and linen trousers.As her feet met the coolness of the tiny-sized sandpit and the hardness of the gravel,little drops of sweat were trickling down her forehead.
