One sunny autumn day in late September of 1968, in Ealing (of all places) I was sitting in the living room of a fairly pleasant downstairs apartment in a privately owned house, sitting and waiting. Waiting for something to happen. Not watching anything, nor reading anything. Just sitting and looking out of the window. I saw two tall young men of about my age, in their twenties maybe, walk up the path. They knocked on the door.
When I...
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