It is five forty-six. I am nine years old. It’s a Friday. Today at school something really good happened. One of the boys in my class fell over and hurt his knee and no one was really paying him any attention and I felt sorry for him and asked if he wanted me to talk to him and find an assistant, and he said yes. So I went to find a teacher, it was Miss Reader and I know her so it wasn’t too scary to tell her and he got his leg all bandaged up and then she said we could go and play again. He shrugged and asked if I wanted to go play, no one has ever asked me before. We played doctors, seeing as he had a bandage he was the patient and then we sat together and well I almost had a friend. He will probably have forgotten me by Monday though. His eyes are pretty and blue, and his hair smells like apples. His name is Sam.
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