gillybob Wed 17-Apr-13 11:13:13
When I was a child I had a (very real) imaginary friend called Mrs Kershaw, who was my best friend. If I close my eyes I can see her as vivid as I could when I was a child. She wore her hair in a bun and carried a shopping basket that always had nice things in it. She wore a leopard skin jacket with kind of poppers down the front and a turquoise blouse. Mrs Kershaw had a kind gentle Scottish accent and I told her everything. Where did she go? Who was she? and where did she come from?
When I talk to myself (as I do frequently) I often wonder if I am really still talking to my old friend Mrs K and I smile to myself thinking she must be very much alive and well somewhere hopefully looking after another very lonely and imaginative child.