A flock of birds flying in a scattered pattern in the hazy gray sky with tree tops underneath

Part I: Who Am I?

Circa March, 2020   I’m looking in the mirror and who I’m seeing isn’t me. I don’t know how to explain this, other than to say, I mean it literally. I’m staring at my own reflection, and the person I see is my brother. Or my mother. Sometimes I see my grandmother. Often it’s my …

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