Conor McDonald

Stories from My Father

-1- My back stuck to the brown leather seat of the bus, a physical phenomenon that served as a marker of how hot the day was. Late January and the start of the school year often brought extreme, oppressive heat with it and today was no exception. The air-conditioner gave us little relief and the other students, in a vain attempt to alleviate the discomfort, stood on their seats to open the little windows just below the roof. This exposed us to dust from outside, which clung to our moist foreheads and coated my white blonde hair.