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... room. Another followed, the leather brushing against its neighbours as I worked my way along the row.

When the last book settled into place, I stood there for a moment, fingertips resting on its cover. Somewhere between the monotonous task, my brain began to wander, dazing out from whatever I was doing, thinking of how my life had slipped onto a different track.

The people I’d been closest to had slipped out of my days, one after the other. And in their absence, something like an ...

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