Coach

Clear skies and sun, but soon clouded over and the rest of the day was dull but dry. In History we continued Soviet Foreign Policy.

After school we went to see Arthur Miller's A View From The Bridge at Bolton Octagon, but only after a long wait for a replacement coach to arrive after our first one broke down. There were several moments on the coach I reveled in, but they are too corny to write down, as I’d only embarrass myself. The actors were wooden and their performances ruined the play. I’m not sure whether I like Arthur Miller as a playwright. Both of the works of his I’ve seen seem typical 1950s American-family-man-has-dreams-smashed-by-contemporary-events/people* (*delete where applicable). On the coach back Deborah told me that Pilkington Sports in Farnshaw might have a possible Saturday job.