1968-1972 MY EARLIEST memory is of crying for my mother from a cot in a dark room. She never came. My second is of having crawled under my parents’ bedclothes and becoming trapped. Only this time my cries were heard. The third is of batting a faded green plastic telephone off the side of myContinue reading “A Toddler’s Tale”
The end is only the beginning
M K MacInnes, writer 