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I met Becky in the supermarket dairy aisle; a vivacious 40-something, born and raised locally. I’d seen her around, but we’d never met before Ed reappeared. I asked how my old friend was. “Not so good,” she said. “Still can’t sleep. And he really struggles with ANZAC Day. He won’t see a doctor. I’m hoping he’ll finally talk to other Vets.” Becky stared blankly at the shelves of milk. “What else can I do? I love that man.” A self-conscious smile and she turns away. I head home thinking of Ed and the upcoming reunions across Australia and New Zealand.
Ed’s an old school friend, us both... (more)
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