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Pages 12–13

Higher

Boy at the top of a swaying tower of milk crates while a friend shouts from the grass and a mum pegs washing, oblivious

“Higher,” said Barry. So we went higher. “Higher,” said Barry again, from the ground, where it was safe.

Barry only ever said one word, and he always said it from the grass. Two feet out of frame, Mum was pegging out a duvet cover.