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‘No. 6’

On return he would allow us a very brief look at his toy train set. By which I mean two full sized pool tables that could be winched down from the garage ceiling and which were a boschian stage for trains, Christmas lights, engineered mechano, plastic toys from the local budget toy store and fake grass. It was littered with model people going about their day in a grotesque petri dish of imagination, and this only added to the loss of sense. If lucky we were invited to turn or pull the levers embedded in the periphery of the pooltable, made from the parts of a washing machine, to reveal hidden in the thickness of the table and its fake mountains, smaller more engrossing worlds.

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