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  • Haring down the hill

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    He sat in the churchyard, feeling the fag packet in his pocket. He didn’t want to go home where all his relatives would have arrived in black, coughing into sandwiches and mini sausage rolls. They’d try tell him stories about his dad, pretending they knew his dad better than they did.

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  • Dapper Dale

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    Kathleen and me had been up late talking. She talked about babies and I talked, through a bit of beer, about getting away, going abroad before babies. Getting away.

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