this post was submitted on 23 Jun 2023
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A very early childhood memory of mine was playing swingball with my mother in the garden, one of these came lumbering through the field of conflict. I don't think mother even noticed it until it flew exactly into the space where the tennis ball and her raquet were about to connect; she obliterated it. I knew it was an accident but it was a while until I could look at her the same way I did before.