When: 22nd of December, 1979 Where: Gladstone home, Kidlington, Oxfordshire Who: @rocketshipbell
“So,” Camille concluded the story – the news at Cambridge, her experience at the schol, her and Doris’ article, everything. Even if she’d cried, and that was evidenced by the red spots all over her face, blending with her freckles, it wasn’t half as much as when she’d told Dawn, a week before. And that had been less than when she’d told Doris. Telling the story enough times put some distance between herself and what had happened. As hurtful as the memory was, stating the facts was no longer that big of a hassle. Even if she was scared, that fact alone made Camille feel stronger. “I’m past telling myself it was a shit choice now, so I suppose that’s progress. But I still don’t know what will happen, of course...” Not to her, not to her family, not to the school. “Maybe nothing,” she mused. It wouldn’t be the worst case scenario. “Have you ever read the Oracle? I mean, do you reckon people read it much?”
