A Trader in the Making

A SECRET HAND-WRITTEN message goes out to each student. “20c for toasted sandwiches. 12.30pm – room 2A. Bring your own sandwich.” And before I knew it, I was in business. Toasting sandwiches on a fork, connected to a ruler, held up to the industrial school heater. Around 15 twelve-year-old girls became my regular clients. I…

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Who Are You?

I WAS SIDE-BY-SIDE with my Grandmother at the retirement village, looking into her dresser mirror. “Who do you see Gran?” I asked. “I see an old woman. I’m always shocked when I see her. Inside I’m still 18 years old, dancing and laughing with my fiancé, my whole life ahead of me.” You see, our…

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