He stared blankly at the shelves in front of him. Bindings and color swirled before his eyes. How he ever was to choose among them he did not know.
Books of wisdom and humor. History and instruction. Ledgers of dates and itineraries. Albums of memories and pictures. Family volumes lined the walls. Dust sprinkled the shelves, publishing their forgotten state. Years of searching and bargaining produced the sights before him. Research and traveling brought the rectangular evidence before him.
The corners of the room were piled high with empty boxes; and he was only allowed to fill one of them.
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