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Sport 40: 2012



The break-in is a devastating breach of trust. This is a region where doors are left open. People have trusted the isolation to protect them,

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as well as separating them. It happens during the spring months, once the snow has thawed enough to allow access. Someone has been biding his time, keeping a close eye on the deserted house on the hill. One of my uncles appears on TV, dishevelled and disturbed. He draws on his rattling pipe, trying to remember what items were placed where, which ones might have been stolen. I could tell him what’s missing. A wave of robberies has flooded the area. My uncle’s summer bach has also been broken into. Among the stolen items: an ancient egg cooker and the entire stainless-steel kitchen benchtop. ‘Russian mafia. Who else?’ my uncle says, eyeballing the audience through the TV camera lens.