I sit here, on the crowded school bus, alone. Looking out the window at the route I could picture in my sleep, my hands itching to play. To bring out my old, battered, dull tin whistle and drown out the screeching year 7's at the back of the bus, the giggling year 8's at the front, the moaning 6th formers. To start up one of the tunes that is
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