I can’t tell you what I look like. I look in the mirror and seenothing but space. Space reflecting space, that’s what themirror shows. It figures because Grandmamma said I wasnothing but dirt. Dirt under her feet she’d say. Dirt she neededto keep kicking out of the way. Grandmamma said I wasn’tsweeping-up kind of dirt; I was the kind of dirt you needed tokick and scrape off the bottom of your shoes.
-Jan Fink
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