Summary
Talking to my mother's cousin is a bit like speaking to a tormented spirit via an inarticulate medium. The English language has been her first language for over 70 years, but she has yet to commit to heart the simplest nouns and the most commonly used verbs. 'Good, er,' she says. 'Did you, er?' 'Yes, thank you,' I say. She hasn't slept very well herself because something which she can't think of the word for has kept her awake.
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Extract
Personality Disorder
I'm at the kitchen table eating porridge, drinking tea and listening to a government information service called the Today programme. It's not yet light. Wind-driven rain beats at the window. Everyone else in the house is a...
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