Go on, you know you want to. What harm will it do? Look at those pretzels. Don’t they smell yummy! Or what about a big,
I wonder if I’ll recognise him. It was 20 years ago. Went off with the barmaid from the Red Lion. Or at least that’s what
I remember it as though it happened yesterday. It was my seventh birthday and dad had stuck a donkey on the wall. We’d laughed when
Gave it all up when I was fourteen. Nobody could understand why. I simply reacted like any teenager. Scowled a lot. Said it was boring
“Name and date of birth please, sir.” “Michael Peter Jones, 21st March 1962” “And when did you die Mr Jones?” “Sometime this morning, I think.
That’s where she kept me. The room with the blinds. I remember once letting the blinds up, the light from the sun was amazing. She