When I was little, I used to have nightmares about crocodiles and snakes attacking me, usually whilst submerged underwater in some swampy fetid bog. The snake would squeeze me to death amongst the tangled weeds and the crocodile would snap me clean in half. I’d cry out, as little children are inclined to do but I never felt reassured afterwards. I believed wholeheartedly that croc and his cohorts were hiding out beneath my bed waiting to...
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