THIRTY
Sentences simply got trampled underfoot and lost in the avalanche of creativity.
Nicholas Garforth sharpened his pencil with a penknife and then opened the red cover of the exercise book that he had bought at Wilson Stationers with money he had saved from his jobs.
He sucked on the end of the pencil for a minute or two, wondering what to write, and then in a small neat hand wrote: My mother is a right confused combination.
He read the words again and crossed out My mother and combination and replaced them with My Mam and mixture and carried on writing.
My Mam is a right confused mixture. On the one hand, she is dead proud that our Edward has joined up, answered the call to fight for our King, but on the other, she is afraid, worried as any mother must be when a son goes off to
