Shangamuzo

My childhood memories are mostly about horses. Not some noble country house with stables, but grimy side-street bookmaker’s shops with discarded betting slips covering the floor like confetti thrown at a doomed marriage. My father had been in the RAF during the Second World War, and it had left him quiet and detached. My father […]
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Published on August 11, 2015 00:57
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Harlan Wolff
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