“Are we going to die, Mum?” — that night, twenty years ago.

(This story is also on Medium. Follow me here.) I remember him falling into a river and clinging to something – a leaf or a stick – to stay afloat. He was injured, scared, and all on his own. The current was sweeping him forwards and ahead he could see he was hurtling towards the … Continue reading “Are we going to die, Mum?” — that night, twenty years ago.