Some say we end up reflecting -visually representing?- our genes once a certain barrier of age has been conquered. Well, this is the passage of that barrier for me. My grandfather would have probably looked like this, had he been photographed. He wasn't there. But I was. Just off the boat in an England which was more rain clouds than anything else. Except long days and a window that gives onto far-off hills, and a serpentine silvery train, coming from London or going back during long days in a cottage in some hill in Southeast Kent.
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