… ride side by side and with each turn and figure eight so much becomes meaningless: the clicking of the photographer’s camera, the whole silly construct of this afternoon, the 17 years that have passed since we’ve known each other. I could do this for hours, for days. But the reality is that he has a family to take care of and I have a Train to catch to return to the life in which he is as much a fictional character as anything close to what most people think of as a father. …
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