Shards of late autumn sun creep between the houses on the hill. Rattling bikes carry puffing, ruddy-cheeked riders over cobblestones towards the University, royal blue scarves flapping in the breeze.
A hint of coming winter chills my throat as I pause to catch a nervous breath. The gatekeeper turns towards me, his black top-hat almost hiding his eyes.
Can he tell?
Do I look different?
My mother’s words provide a lone, reassuring voice.
‘You’re as good as them, son, never forget.‘
Clutching my scholarship papers, I lift my head and walk through the arch.
The gatekeeper nods;
Their world, now my world.
These words form my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.