“…the elbows and wrists crisscrossing…”

Probably the greatest vignette of fiction ever! It transcends any prose poem, it even transcends poetry or music. An essence of semantics and phonetics and syntax and the simple ‘look’ of the print evolving into a gestalt of a well-meaning boy who looks after his brothers at school and at home during an otherwise hard life, an even harder life if it were not for the promise of this involving vignette itself that iconises him with our own elbows and wrists crisscrossing, too.


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