Monday, April 13, 2009

fragment 7


There were never many books in our house, when I was young. We weren’t that kind of family. The only dictionary I used through all the years I lived at home was one purchased in sections from a local grocery store. Every week a new section would be added to our shopping cart. As the weeks passed, the dictionary grew before me like some kind of weird alien sibling. It assumed its final form when my parents bought the red binder into which all sections were carefully placed. I have loved this dictionary for many years. It resides in my father’s house.


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