John Wren, The Bakers Son
When I woke up, the sun wasn’t up yet. I didn’t hear the coaches screeching, horse hooves clacking or the road sellers shouting. I was woken up by a different noise: My father was running…
When I woke up, the sun wasn’t up yet. I didn’t hear the coaches screeching, horse hooves clacking or the road sellers shouting. I was woken up by a different noise: My father was running…