Sep 7, 2018
5 min read
YOUTH NOW
Your Childhood Memories Are Probably Fake
We’re surprisingly unreliable narrators of our own life story
I’m standing under the porch of our old redbrick house on the outskirts of London, a rickety fence to the left propping up unwieldy roses, and in front of me, my nana crouched down with her hands resting on her knees, smiling encouragingly at me to…
