One of the 51 year old twins, who will forever be half of the “Starck girls” of my youth, gets on the bus and proceeds to tell everyone – loudly – the exact price of all of her shopping, what she bought for whom and why, and how she ran out of money. I should [...]
Tag Archives | memory
Nan
The loud snap of a top-fastening ‘fifties handbag transports me in an instant to a warm, smoky, packed room in Buckfastleigh Town Hall. I am at my Nan’s side, holding my excitement in by an extreme act of self-discipline for an 8 year old – it is Bingo Night, and Nan says I can call [...]
