“scratch scratch”, digging with their toothpick paws: I’ve seen mothers do it to make a trench for their little ones, and then plop; they sit on them.
I remember going numb when she would take my hand and the pencil that I was taking my time with; we’d go over the lines carefully. It was usually the last subject, one I didn’t mind so much but she was probably in a hurry – coffee, lunches, dinners, other students waiting for her help. She probably had to make a cake to go with the coffee before that 4:oo. Files, papers and nemos tape recorder sprawled out on the shiny dining table. The crows would go wild at that time and my mind would wonder off to the outdoors before my body followed. Watching cartoons in the unknown neighbours’ houses or rollerskating off the pavement was always more interesting than handwriting.