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Genesis 6.15, Acts 26.5, Matthew 6.34

‘How big’s a cubit? I don’t believe it. It couldn’t…’ I looked up from my half-crayoned boat of giraffes and suchlike at Mrs Millson, who knew. ‘You wouldn’t! And you’re not the first to think like that’, she laughed. But when Canon Rodgers, whose name I was too small to appreciate, next gave our school assembly, they singled me out to read. The tiny hall grew huge. I stalled on ‘Testify’, ‘Pharisee’: which parts to stress? And then we had to sing: Kiiiss my aaarse, Lord, kiiiss my aaaaarse, the bigger boys behind me muttered, grinning. I gawped out at the wet-bright trees and grass: no Flood in our world. Now I’m a world away nursing another beer. A parent’s age.


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