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I Sing the Body Electric

A friend passed the paperback to me. The corners of its pages had been turned back so many times they had broken off. I don't know how many hands it had been in before mine, but I'm sure there were many. The cover was coffee-stained, there were crumbs stuck in the spine, and smears of grease and pizza sauce dotted several pages. No one had abandoned the book, no one had set it aside for later and forgotten it. It was kept close; it was loved.

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