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Just a post that I thought might make us feel a bit better in this dark time.


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About two and a half years ago, I found myself loitering near a shop on the fringes of Soho, nervously looking over my shoulder, in case anyone saw me as I went in. When I got home, I hid the stuff I’d bought — the specialist magazines, the equipment — away from my wife. I was indulging in an old, shameful habit; I’d given up decades earlier, but a single taste and I’d fallen back into it.

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