In my last English lesson, Miss Cameron asked us for our favourite word. Eight people said ‘football’. Three said ‘fart’. One said ‘onomatopoeia’.
I didn’t put my hand up, but I carefully wrote four letters in my exercise book.
That’s my favourite word. The cosiest word in the English language. Home. A place where no one laughs at me for the stuff I ‘m rubbish at, like football or diving. And I have hours and hours to get on with the stuff I’m good at, like making pizzas and building interplanetary warships out of Lego.