I am an avid trash picker. I scavenge and I keep. Last weekend it was a set of slightly used golf clubs. I do not golf but they were pretty enough. This week, two large cartons of barely used books. They included Selected Poems of William Butler Yeats, a Janis Joplin biography, a strange little ditty entitled, "The Five People You'll Meet in Hell" and assorted other classics.
Why anyone would toss these things is beyond me. The books seem almost sinful.
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