I am constantly writing and then drawing a line through what
I’ve written. Typing and then deleting. I typed ten versions
of this before settling on this version. I prefer this version to be a
nothing-version. No substance, no spark, no story I pulled out from
under my placemat at lunch where I made a mess when the tomato slid out
of my sandwich. I had to wipe it up. I prefer my personal history to be
kept in my coat pocket, so that when I answer the phone or meet a new
person or stand up at a deli to get a napkin to pick up a tomato slice,
I can simply pad the pocket, feel the pause button, and mute my
personal history for a minute. That way, for multiple small stretches
throughout the day, I get to keep myself.
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Read TE's story, "Himself in the Mirror."
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