Dear Busybody

I remember the title.

It was the first book

that I borrowed from

the Children’s Section

of the library.

We visited my Auntie Mary

afterwards

and she laughed

and laughed.

I didn’t know why.

I was eight years old

and it was written

for a much older child

and though I persevered

I couldn’t understand much of it.

I saw it there again years later

and borrowed it a second time.

I still couldn’t understand much,

so maybe it was me, not my age,

though I did understand by then

why Auntie Mary had laughed!

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