The Generation Game Part 1 Sarah
1964 It was at one of those crazy, wild parties that I saw her. She was dancing to a Stones number, her arms above her head, her hair cascading over her shoulders. She was a couple of years older than I, and seemed so grown up and unobtainable that I just watched her dance, and compensated with rather too much bad red wine. That’s the cop-out when you are eighteen, inexperienced, and just a bit shy. As the party wound down, I looked for her, but couldn’t find her, so made my stumbling way...