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Good Letters

b66057750e51b8f457de7e9c1dc91fca[1]One of my earliest memories is of the bookcase in the second floor hallway of my grandparent’s house falling on top of me. I had been climbing it trying to reach a book on the top shelf when it toppled. I remember lying there, stunned, the weight of the books and their cold, sharp corners digging into my chest and sides. I didn’t panic. Instead, I recall feeling a strange comfort having my shoulders pinned to the floor by so many books.

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