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One day a mail with a stranger’s name arrived. Come to think of it, something similar happened in the past. It was a letter to someone who lived in my house. He must have been a tenant like me, so he might be receiving a mail delivered incorrectly like me somewhere. By the time the mail piled up and the name became familiar, it occurred to me to write a letter to the person. To the person who shared the same space as me, the person who saw what I see, the person who was the owner of the trace I lived in.
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