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Audio Cassette
First published January 1, 1993
The New Zealand light was lovely, gentle, sifting through gauzes of moisture, miles high. I looked at it by the hour, that island light, committing it to memory, to words if I could, for perhaps we were being too hopeful about the war, and I might not return to New Zealand for years.
"Stop screeching. It has to come out the way it came in," I heard one nursing sister say, coarsely impatient, to a woman in the ultimate throes. I myself was slapped by a nurse on a painful swollen breast because I was awkward in feeding my child.
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