‘I know better than to let her go.’ A lyric from Thurston Moore’s song ‘Bendiction’ on his 2011 album, Demolished Thoughts. A long, cold day when I should have shut-up. The dusk surf lifts smoothly and serenely in the face of an onshore wind. The clouds are pillows of weird, soft grey. A lone swimmer swims laps in the pool. I make my way up Campbell St to the shops. Apart from a few naughty, young women, all the RSL diners stand and face west for one minute. Remembering the dead, they look like zombies themselves. I must not write to her. I must do nothing that provides any scope for further rejection. The sound of wind in the backyard. I have gained the capacity to see the future, to recognise the certainty of loss. But this loss is not general. It does not affect everything. Two people on bikes talk to one another and roll quickly down the hill. I have only a short distance to walk before turning right up my steps.

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