The No Name Diary

They all know it’s coming, the thick wad of papers on my desk signal the start of another mock exam. In the minutes before I place the papers in front of them they all perform their little rituals. Diego rubs the textbook all over his torso, opens it at the double page he thinks might be relevant, holds it above his head and shakes it. Marcos crosses himself and puts his palms up to the heavens momentarily, much like footballers do just before they run onto the pitch. Sandra inspects the sharp point of a pencil, then puts it back in the sharpener, only just rotates it, pulls it out and blows, now satisfied. The rest of them just sit there either desolate or smirking at these rituals. Oh wait, there’s also Mauro, the other funny one, he shadow writes in the air, first slowly, then extremely fast, in imaginary lines. Warming up I guess…

I get home late, feeling a little restless because the usual routine of writing on the board, walking around desks all day, checking, correcting, listening, organising, playing, sitting down and standing up, has changed. It’s been temporarily replaced by invigilating, and poring over test papers. I put the kettle on, make a cup of tea and open The No Name Diary where I left off…

Illuminated by the moonlight, Laif rode forward on that open green plain. The cloaked figure in the distance remained motionless, facing towards her. The only sounds were the horse’s breath and hooves clopping on the soft ground, brushing past blades of grass. The stillness of the night started to unsettle Laif, that was until she came close enough to see that the figure wasn’t actually a person at all. It was something like a scarecrow, a tattered black cloak and hood which concealed something shiny underneath. With her fingers Laif parted the robe and discovered a suit of armour, one of an advanced material with contours that alternated in shades of silver and grey. She touched it, and suddenly, like the visions of all those lives that had possessed her over and over again at sea, she had another. This time it was the sound of children’s laughter, little running feet, chickens, earth, a running tap then the voice of a mother. She snapped out of it, disorientated she took an involuntary step back, the horse’s breath warmed her right forearm. A cold breeze swept across the land and made her shiver. She waited a moment then touched the armour again, nothing. She removed the cloak entirely, took all the armour down, and then started to put it over her body.