by Gabrielle Harris When I was about nine, Dad bought a strange woman to our house. She was dressed in white and had an exotic name. Our sleep-out was turned into a shrine. Suddenly suburban life was looking up. The lady was handed some cash and I had to give her something of value to myself. I gave her my teddy. I didn’t want to give her my teddy as I was attached to it. It’s good to have attachments when you are nine; it gives you something to work on in later years. Little did I know … [Read more...]