Fall 2008 ... I am setting down my memories in pencil on small index cards, which I keep in a shoebox. The box full of cards reminds me of the card catalogue at the library, each book and set of periodicals meticulously documented on a manual typewriter, assigned a code, cross-referenced by subject. Each book was indexed by title and author, and if non-fiction then by subject area. If I were to assign a subject here I might say memoir, paradise, Stamford, 1975-76; love, doomed, eternal, everlasting.
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