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Weekly Residuum 161 -July 2003 C
© photo and text Koen Nieuwendijk



In much the same way as she fools me with her conjuring tricks by magically drawing the right card, she counts on my returning the favour by demonstrating how the imaginary bubble in my stomach area works its way up to throat level, at which moment - having just in time gulped the appropriate amount of air - I release a small burp, which has her falling about laughing: instant success.

Even when she was a toddler she used to call out "more time" all the time, and now that she is a pre-teen, she cries out "one more time" with at least the same gusto, until I threaten to start heaving and, by way of grand finale, produce the tiniest of primordial noises. Her laugh rings out in the evening air. I'm mortified, but do I care?

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