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"WSC2(NF) The First Time"
TechNoir 9741 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold"
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01-01-03, 00:43 AM (EST)
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"WSC2(NF) The First Time" |
LAST EDITED ON 01-01-03 AT 06:45 PM (EST)I know it sounds trite but it was such a profoundly moving and life altering experience that I can easily separate my life into “before” and “after”. I don’t know how old others were when it happened to them, but it still seems to me that I was very young. At thirteen, I surely must have been younger than most. Before that day I spent much of my out-of-school time in the back rooms of libraries. The smell and taste of entering a room filled with ancient bound paper and dust still takes me back to those early days. My library habit began when I was about three. I even learned to write so that I could have my own library card. “You can’t have your own library card until you can write your own name.” the librarian said to me, an unusually tiny five year old who looked barely able to carry books much less read them. Two weeks later I boldly walked over to her and said “I want my library card now.” “You have to be able to write your name.” she reminded me. “I can.” I said. I got my library card. After all, a promise is a promise. And, like many of you, I quickly worked my way through the “children’s” section. The librarians were so used to my presence that they allowed me to wander and read in the “adult” section without bothering to ask anyone’s permission. It was a less strident time. Librarians felt certain that parents agreed with them that reading was a universal good, before the well-meaning librarians had constantly to be concerned about parental hysteria concerning the nature of the written word. I won’t bore you with the details. It is enough to relate that as I got older I outgrew much of the tiny local library and wandered off seeking the size and bustle of brighter covers, older wood paneling, and more traffic. A large city library was a mere bus ride away, but walking through the doors felt like landing in a different country. By then I had an actual “adult” library card and had long since abandoned my concern about being observed reading books that not everyone approved of. Songs have been written about the transformative nature of travel. After discovering the broad expanse and many levels of a central library, I began to wander through book stores. At first the clerks would rush over to me or watch me closely, an odd child-like creature invading their largely adult domains. After a time they became accustomed to my presence and nodded or smiled, then let me wander. They had come to learn that I not only browsed, but that I spent whatever money I earned on adult materials from their establishments. Winter came, prime reading time. I found myself wandering around my neighborhood book store several times a week, sort of lost. My “to read” shelf was too small. I kept looking for things that weren’t there. One very slow, slightly snowy afternoon after school I found myself alone in the shop with someone who, in retrospect, must have been the owner. I was a loner, and he was used to letting me be. But on this day he approached me kindly and asked if he could help me find what I was looking for. I must have looked a bit forlorn while I explained that I knew what he had and where to find it. What I wanted just wasn’t there. I don’t know what I was looking for. I may have been in that period where I was reading Russian novelists or early American poetry. That knowledge is lost in the distance of time. All I can remember is that he led me over to a corner behind the cash register. On a lectern stood a huge volume that I had never seen before, larger than the dictionary I usually found in libraries, with thin paper and very tiny lettering. I cautiously touched its red paper edges, sliding my small hand down to gently caress the edge of the brown leather bound cover. I looked up, questioning. He smiled slightly while explaining that he could get for me anything listed in “Books in Print.”
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Drive My Car 20045 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold"
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01-01-03, 05:21 PM (EST)
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7. "RE: WSC2(NF) The First Time" |
Wonderful!!!!!!I felt you all the way through, and the ending gave me chills ( for real) I Love this piece.
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true 9681 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold"
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01-02-03, 09:48 AM (EST)
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8. "RE: WSC2(NF) The First Time" |
Lovely story, Tech. I could really picture you and your surroundings. Loved it!"I smell the smelly smell of something that smells smelly" - Mr. Krabs
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Schnookie Palookie 16822 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold"
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01-08-03, 12:11 PM (EST)
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14. "RE: WSC2(NF) The First Time" |
Bravo Tech. I'm so in awe of all you writers here ... so much talent. Thanks for sharing it with us.
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