Sport 8: Autumn 1992
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My father disconnects the Christmas-tree lights. I kiss my sister. I kiss my sister Ann goodnight.
When everyone else has gone, I settle to sleep on a lilo on the floor. The logistics of turning the light out and finding my bed again in the dark constitute my last effort of the day. I lie on my back in darkness.
I have not seen Ben in his uniform of a nurse, the inverted watch pinned page 148 to his short-sleeved smock, his fair-head's brown arms with their repertoire of strengths. I was cruel to him when he was a boy, he who has so recently become himself.
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