The schoolroom . . . Olivia had always adored its confines and endless horizons. The melodious purr of the teacher’s voice rising up and down her lessons like a musical score. And the sight of book spines–black, blue, green–lined up side by side like London townhouses. Each leather rectangle a gift waiting to be opened and explored and savored.

The schoolroom . . . Olivia had always adored its confines and endless horizons. The melodious purr of the teacher’s voice rising up and down her lessons like a musical score. And the sight of book spines–black, blue, green–lined up side by side like London townhouses. Each leather rectangle a gift waiting to be opened and explored and savored.

– Julie Klassen –

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