My Story

When I was a wee lass....
My parents thought we needed to be “closer to our heritage and roots”. So they shipped me and my brother James Jr. off to
Liverpool, England. I don’t remember much of the whole trip, but the vivid memory of the drooling Persian man, asleep on my shoulder will never be erased. How his mouth was wide open as he snored into my ear and had it echo around my brain for hours.

to be continued.............

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