… a wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one’s life, to one’s home or homeland, or to one’s family and friends; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time … and after giving my old secondary school barely a thought for half a century, I find myself signed up for a reunion lunch. You can bet the people you want to see won’t be there and those you never wanted to see again, er, will. Or perhaps the years will have mellowed the old antipathies in a golden haze of happy forgetfulness. Remember old Foggy Foggington and the pink bicycle incident? The fun we had … when we weren’t getting beaten up by the school bully or having our ears tweaked by the psychopaths in the male staffroom! And who can ever forget those lazy afternoons in Miss Panting’s English class taking bets on the colour of her underwear. Ah yes, nostalgia, it’s not what it was …


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