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Holding Hands in the Dark
When my sister and I were young, we used to play constantly with the children of our next-door neighbours at the cottage. Once every summer, we'd be allowed to sleep outside together in a tent by the lake. The night I remember most vividly was when I was ten and my sister was twelve. We told ghost stories and shrieked with fear and laughter. We had flashlights, but we only used them to shine upwards from under our chins, imitating monsters. Eventually, our voices faded and flashlights were…