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Toni Frissel

Abandoned boy holding a stuffed toy animal amid ruins following German aerial bombing of London, 1945

I adore this child, particularly because he looks like a combination of my cousin Jake, my father as a child, and myself as a child. It’s almost eerie.

I want to travel back in time and take him by his sticky, dusty hand and bring him to my nice warm row home (I’d have one-red brick with and iron gate. And some interesting neighbors). I’d wash his stuffed animal in the sink with Lavender soap, and dress him in my old sweaters while I launder his clothing. I’d feed him toast soldiers, warm eggys, and milk with honey. I’d let him sit close to the fire and ruffle his hair before bed.

I want to write a story of my life after I take in this child. I don’t even particularly like children.