The first breath of Umbra screams “Crunchy peanut butter!” “Wood!”
Then, before I know it, I’m whooshed back in time. It’s the school holidays, I’m ten years old, staying a few days at my Grandparent’s. I’m in the guest room, sitting by an old wooden chest of drawers, a little pile of tiny pink musk sweeties in my hand. I’m eating the sweets one at
(
Read more... )