Sunday, November 11

Philosophical Differences

My mother was clearing junk out of my childhood bedroom in order to make way for some furniture that needed to be temporarily relocated while construction proceeds in my parents' bedroom. Buried in my trash can she found a copy of The Fountainhead. My mother and my father went back and forth on whether I had intended for the book to be thrown away before finally consulting me on matter. I told them to give it to charity.

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