Harvests home
"Bless him. He's lost his marbles." The silence came upon me in 1952, the day mum asked me to read out the telegram. I’d never seen one before. “Corporal Charles Cooper. Stop - Missing. Stop - Believed killed in action. Stop” Something died inside me when I knew dad would never come back from the forgotten war. I vowed to never speak again. After a year, people gave up talking to me - they stopped trying to break my silence. “Poor Billy,” they’d say, “He’s...
