When Thandiwe had to leave the house she cried like a hosepipe that had been slashed. Tears spurted from her eyes on to the towel wrapped around her belly. She cried while her mother held her in her lap and dressed her in the brand new school shoes she had bought from her wages. Her little girl arms that smelt of Lux were wrapped round her mother's neck.
D. Levy, Things I don't want to know (2013), 47-8
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