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I feel good today, but Rosanne does not. She does not even need to tell me this, though she cannot talk about anything else. When Zoë and I divert to discussing feminism and the environment, or the antics of the right wing of the Labor Party (the latter only for a minute, lest we die of boredom), Rosanne’s red-ringed eyes gaze out across the harbour and she is no longer with us.

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Alison Ziller

Spring 1992

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