Colonoscopy was successful: nothing unexpected in my bowels. My next check-up will be in five years time. The discomfort will pass. I even managed to swallow the saline mixture without gagging (lots of lemonade).

I spent the rest of the morning with my mother who was visiting from Invercargill. I rendez-vous’d with her in the foyer of the hospital. We arrived more or less at the same time.

She gave me my last present for Christmas, a copy of The Gorse Blooms Pale, by Dan Davin. The letter from the hospital had been my first gift.

The book includes a map of modern Invercargill which seems anachronistic as he effectively left in 1932. Had he remained our lives would have overlapped.

It is also the tenth anniversary of my brother’s death. Spooky. This collusion of events should appear on When Coincidences Go Ominous.

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