The funeral hearth grows dim
Any organisation changes form over time. The school known as Intrax was no exception. It was the current manifestation of an unbroken continuation. Just like a growing body, it shed cells and hair, but the essence remained, while the external appearance changed into new forms. The school apparently started as 'ASL' in the mid-90s, the original owners and principal that started it have been gone for a while now. Its name change, ownership change have all happened, but it was always the same old school. Four teachers were there during the final four years, some leaving but always returning. We could have taken ourselves to be the spirit of the place.
Now three of us, ripped from that dying body, we were transplanted into another school. Alien entities don't necessarily stay long before the systematic immune system weeds them out. And that includes me. Friday will be the last day of my three week tenure at ALC. I leave it without a working home to go to.
Psychologically, it may be a good thing. Even at teacher's college, there was that subconscious thought, 'I can always go back to my home at the language school'. And even now, who could resist that appeal of the comfortable workplace. Now, I am compelled to fend for myself.
But as the smoke disperses, I can't help but think if the friendships at the old school will stand the distance of non-work. That is only something each of us can strive for, and that is where I will leave this meandering obituary.