- Joined
- Dec 21, 2011
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And Mom said, "Junie, this is Prentiss Rhymer. He was the boy on the train that day."
After all those years, he had just turned up in our church. He had kin in the area, and had retired here to be close to his family.
Aw, isn't that cool!
Himself's mum once told me about when she was out one day during the war. She lived in East London, just East of the East End (trust me, it makes sense with a map). She's minding her own business wandering from shop to shop down a road. She takes a good look in a second hand shop and then crosses over the road to look into somewhere else.
No warning, no noise, nothing, not even the whistle you get in war films. Bomb drops, glass, dust, brick, rubble everywhere. She's covered in everything from head to foot, but she's ok. She turns around and the shop she was just looking in is now a shell. A few bits of wall and a great big crater in the middle, window and all the stuff has just gone.
If she hadn't have crossed the road she would have been dead.