FOREWORD Forever Fifteen was born of a dream I had in 2002, a dream that was part nightmare. “She has one, that’s why. She could now see to read; so she stirred the manuscript about until she came upon the first page. 1 through 1. Please to release me. It lay undisturbed in the remotest corner of the recess. She thought of how much she wanted to eat the foods she had once feasted on that now smelled as innocuous as spring flowers. His tone changed, becoming a little more moderate. ‘Pardon, milor’,’ said Valade, ‘but Monsieur Charvill, he was not at fault. If only to say goodbye.
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