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When I was younger, I learnt the art of spit polishing shoes. It’s an exacting art, an all consuming one. There comes with the forward one, backward one swish motion a conscious sense of being lulled into a quieting submission by the sound alone.
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” I dreamed a dream in times gone by when hope was high and life worth living, I dreamed that love would never die, I dreamed that God would be forgiving. Then I was young and unafraid and dreams were made and
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