AN ELEGY FOR JUNKET Oh vestal virgin of desserts. I mourn your passing, remember how my spoon parted your nutmeg counterpane and set your white purity a-tremble. How gently you slid down our throats with the blessing of vanilla or the added luxury of cream. Alas, no more, no more! There are generations now who have never known you and do not comprehend their loss.\ Barbara Fisher NIGHT NOISES Nine years old and sleepless in my English convent dormitory I listened to Mother Joseph taking off her clothes. I say‘listened’because of course I couldn’t see her. She slept…
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