I wouldn't have asked, but I can't think of anyone else." Sure I'm not doing anything anyway. What time do you want me to come?" Seven, we will be bac... by eleven." She answered."OK see you then," I replied and continuing on my way to Freddie's'. Freddie was at work and his mother invited me for a coffee. She usually was a sour puss and the only recognition I used to get was a mumble, now she wanted to talk. Freddie's father was killed at Dunkirk and his mother works in a laundry on the late. Finally, in the corner furthest from the door from the reception area, there was a small area with beanbag chairs, cushions, pillows, and two bookshelves in the corner itself. Seated on the floor in the middle of the small, intimate space was a short woman, somewhat chubby with a skin-tone that spoke of Amerindian ancestors, long brown hair braided and looped about at the back of her head, held up with antique ivory hair pins and combs. The dress she was wearing appeared to be the product of a. More

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