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Sport 34: Winter 2006

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When I arrived Nikki was busy drinking from a cup of tea and taking off her cardy. She put it back on at occasional interludes as we talked about how she felt. And how she felt she'd missed her chance to be a drummer, and a singer, in a teenage basement punk band. I like the way she has no hard edges. She is funny about herself. She can explain herself and make me think she is explaining me. I wonder how I came to feel this way today, she says, and I decide tomorrow I will drink tea not coffee. She strikes impromptu poses. She pretends to be a classic introvert. She edits her speech. All her best gossip, she says, I'm welcome to pass on. Later when I'm at home and she's gone home, I think through all the things she said. And all the things we said to each other. When I see a picture of a beaded dress, I imagine her wearing a beaded dress with a beaded hood over her face. A cascade of pearls sewn onto a veil. Every time she laughs it echoes out, clinking follows her breath.

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