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My earliest memory, honestly, goes back a very long way. It's not all that pleasant, either, which may be why it made such an impression on me, but it ends up all right.
I'm in our living room, at West End, and it must be early evening because the light is on and I'm looking at it. I can't move my arms and my face hurts, just for a moment, and I cry. Next thing there's a bottle teat in my mouth and I can taste the warm milk and my mother is cuddling me. That's it - end of scene. Years later I mention the memory to my mother and she tells me I had a boil, spot, whatever on my cheek and she had to, gently, bathe it and squeeze it. She says I was 9 months old at the time.
I must be around the same age for the next memory....
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