My uncle Errol looked so much like the American actor Errol Flynn that people remarked on it. Well they did in “the olden days” as my great godson likes to call them. Like his namesake – who will always be remembered for his 1938 portrayal of Robin Hood – he was tall and slender. His face was perfectly symmetrical, the necessary characteristic for classic good looks science tells us. Uncle Errol was a handsome man; very handsome some would say.He had a head of black hair that he oiled, as was the fashion, and slicked back.  I remember him with a beautifully trimmed moustache that quivered on his upper lip – as though it had won the lottery of happy moustaches, residing as it did on such a striking face, on such a petulant lip. My debonair uncle didn’t walk; he had a swagger that was at once an affectation and a mark of supreme confidence. The world loved Uncle Errol. And he loved it back. He graced the world with the benevolence that the beautiful dispense with ease. Franz Kafka, th...

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