Contact is a weird one. It took me a few re-readings to remember what I was thinking about when I wrote it. It features myself as the ‘main character’, but some things are off; Dandruff is an issue I’ve had, but has since found a solution too. I have glasses, not contacts, and while acquiring contacts might be an option, at this point I think I would look odd without them. And while I was nervous about it, I was never bullied for having glasses.
As best as I recall, I wrote this as an alternate timeline where my public school days were markedly less jovial, and I never went to the boarding school where I spent a year. In retrospect, that year was incredibly important to who I am today. So Contact is a personal imagining as to how I might’ve been if that year had never happened.