Splinters I fell in the old henhouse playing submarine though in August it was hot and dry and smelled ofmanure, feathers and straw. Hands full of splinters I climbed the long hill to the house where my father waited having heard my cries. Taking my hands in his one good hand he said some of these we can get with a quick flick but some are deep under your skin and will take time. And though the pain was almost gone I cried because he was there with me and I cried for the shame of falling and I cried for the splinters that remained deep in my flesh. Volume 8 No 1 - Page 53

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