23 34!!
23. Childhood confession
Whew, that’s a tough one. Well, once when our father was away for business I ripped up one of his favorite books and blamed it on the cat we were fostering at the time. Don’t go telling Henry, for it was an old and expensive copy of The Odyssey (my father loved the idea of owning important things and showing them off without making a point of it more than the actual things themselves), but just before he left he’d been rather… mean. To me, our mother, and Henry. We were only ten, he deserved it, though I do feel bad to this day, more for Henry than anyone else
34. Last book you read
I’m rather interested in crime and detective novels. On my trip over to Hampden I read ‘Forfeit’ by Dick Francis. I find I have a good time with anything that focuses on morality
