A cloakroom where the coats are hung. It’s not a hallway but a part of our room. Two empty spaces where a door should be. One to enter and to exit into the classroom.
The cloakroom hides surprises like moldy crackers and lost mittens. But the favorite game is playing chase round and round until the teacher shuts us down. Standing with her hands on hips, she gazes down at me as I skitter to a stop, gulp and look around. My friends have ditched me. Maybe they are hiding and giggling in the cloakroom.
I hang my head and sit on my napping mat. Me, the only one until it’s time to play again with the puppets, blocks or in the kitchen. Saving chase for when we go outside….. outside the cloakroom.
Funny how this memory has stuck with me throughout the years.