Confessions of a Non-Participant

Last week, I saw the final installment of the ‘Harry Potter’ series. To say that the movies have been something of a big deal is like saying that the Titanic had some teething problems. I enjoyed it immensely, although my nephew Brodie was keen to identify the differences between the movie and the book that underpins it. Apparently, there are heaps. It’s fair to say that the movie may disappoint die hard fans, not least for the conspicuous absence of Bruce Willis.
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The Roller Rink of Destiny

Behind the Coles supermarket and next to the train line is a house. It’s small, run down and swamped by everything around it. To call it modest would be immodest. Clearly, it has seen better days, a quite a number of them too. In front of the house is a small, blue plaque that states one fact and one fact alone: that this is the house in which Graham Kennedy grew up.
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Death of an Astra

It ended with bang, a whimper and then a whole lot of smoke. Upon reflection, the warning signs were too obvious to ignore. Nevertheless, with steely-eyed determination I succeeded in doing precisely that. Like the last of those willing to testify to a flat earth, I steadfastly refused to concede that the sound emanating from beneath my bonnet might indicate an impending mechanical failure.
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