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Weekly Contest #91
Books have always been precious to Mr Walker. No matter what kind they were. How big or small, how thick or thin, each of them could hold a whole world within them and not let anyone know. You could fill them up with absolutely anything. A thought. A story. A list. A life. You could stick pictures in where words failed. Those secrets would remain hidden unless you chose to open them and let them guide you through the stories. And so he did acquire a lot of them through his seventy-five years. Eighty-four to be exact, in the seventy square...
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