Alan Marshall

He never robbed me of the pleasure of discovery

Joe adapted his pace to suit mine

She never seemed to notice my crutches. She never mentioned them in all the years I knew her. She never looked at them or at my legs or back. She always looked at my face. She spoke to me as if unaware that I couldn’t run like other boys.

The Other Boy was always with me. He was my shadow-self, weak and full of complaints, afraid and apprehensive, always pleading with me to consider him, always seeking to restrain me for his own selfish interests. I despised him, yet he was my responsibility. In all moments of decision I had to free myself of his influence. I argued with him then, when he would not be convinced; I spurned him in fury and went my way. He wore my body and walked on crutches. I strode apart from him on legs as strong as trees

But if I had done these things I would never have been able to preserve an equality with them

would always have been an onlooker

Don’t be frightened now; don’t be frightened now; don’t be frightened now

voice within me kept on and I recovered myself

liked these men because they never pitied me

They gave me confidence