Summary
There had been two wounds, he could see them, both the very brightest red in the black of its coat - wet and pouting bullet wounds, although he hadn't been firing bullets - and the coat seemed more black than it should do and really more like a person's coat with pockets, lapels and then sleeves. Not enough places for all of the cards you're meant to carry so that you can drive your car and borrow books and rent out videos and pay by cheque and leave your parts to strangers when you're dead.
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Extract
Edinburgh
Peter's back was sore, maybe from lifting potatoes - not the big sacks, you prepared yourself for them and bent your knees the way you should, did what the Health and Safety poster told you. But there were little sacks, too - heritage varieties with comforting names and credentials from the Soil Association - and you'd take them in your stride, not thinking: two or three to either hand so you could fill up your display, and you'd be careless and you'd wreck yourself. That's what always harmed you, lack of foresight.
Only it wasn't the potatoes.It was the dream that hurt him first.He'd been down by a seashore far away - far away from where, he didn't know - and there were g...See the full content of this document
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