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September 18, 2014

There is no accounting for the way that I have spent my life haunted by details. These are far from significant. Nor there is any stripping them of importance, for they bore little to begin with. In spite of this, they have come loose of the settings in which I encountered them and taken on a semblance of meaning. Such is the carved motif glimpsed beneath the display case glass, a small hole in a book bound and filled by the hands of Hokusai. I know not whether this motif, perhaps half a centimeter in length, arose from purpose or later accident but I was taken aback to find its distinctive shape marring a printout from the university. From there, it took its place amongst the others that I carry about with me to no good end or purpose.

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