May 15, 2010
from the comments
I found a rat skeleton when I was going through my dad’s stuff after he died in 2001, Sheila. His office (Dad’s — well, the rat’s too, I guess) was a barely converted garage, which we cleaned out in July, in Florida; I could hear my skin crisping each time I went from the garage to the dumpster in the driveway. I would’ve just chucked bales of crap, but on the first pile I tackled, I found his 1958 love letters to my mom underneath some blueprints from the 1970s. The whole scene was 1% disgusting, 97% paper trash, and 2% sentimental value.
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