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Kathy Bradley - A man's reach

Kathy Bradley - A man's reach

Kathy Bradley - A man's reach

Kathy Bradley


The blinds cut the winter sunshine into thick slices and they fall across my shoulder in long broad stripes. The movement of the rocking chair, forward and back, turns them into waves - reaching out and pulling back, a tide of light. Jackson is tilted in the crook of my arm, the rays making a halo of the soft fuzz on the top of his head.


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