After a half hour of walking he stopped at the “entrance” to the forest. The dirt path continued onward but mixed with undergrowth. There was a si...n warning about certain death ahead for unskilled travellers.He looked up, and the thick trunks of the ancient trees stretched “as far as a man could be thrown by a catapult – vertically of course” as one of his quirkier friends had once said. He was certainly right though, because even when he tilted his hips forward to bend even further back, the. By the third meeting we were talking about major papers. One of my fellows wanted to write about Bangladesh, another at Sudan's breakup."Can I write about Australia as post-colonial England, with Shakespeare's Tempest as the influence?" I asked."Do you see that as racial?" Yes, sir. What else mightWhen thou camest first,Thou strokedst me and madest much of me, wouldst give meWater with berries in't, and teach me howTo name the bigger light, and how the less,That burn by day and night: and then. More

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