Evacuee Stories

Danny Rogan, nine years and three months old, was sick of his life. Facing his second fight in a week, he wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else, as long as it was home. Games were stopping around the village schoolyard, as boys, and a few girls edged towards them. Eyes hopeful, mouths gaping in anticipation. Max Hindley’s pudgy face was six inches higher than his own, pure sneering malice. Big, hard and round, Max wa...