Spree

Rachel Irving

Even in lockdown it is hard to ignore history. I know the names on the closest Stolpersteine. Tatty remnants of the wall dead-end random streets. In May someone working on an allotment thought they had unearthed a WW2 bomb and one of the neighbours refused to evacuate, “if I lived by it for all these years why should I be moved now?” It turned out to be a bit of rusted pipe.

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