TRUE-LIFE
Emma Lynn Dowd, 44
Winding wool around the knitting needle, I relaxed into my grandma's armchair.
It was the mid 1980s and I was 6.
The clickity clack of knitting was so comforting.
‘Jason, you should be out on your bike,’ my grandad boomed from the doorway.
But I hated how rough the other boys played.
Stunts on their bike, scraped knees and bruises.
I hated basketball, fishing and noisy arcade games too.
Happier knitting, playing with dolls.
That year, Dad took me to the barber
