Suburban Chicago, February 1969. I work on a project at my Dad's mahogany desk in the master bedroom. Dad's pipe rests to the right of the desk lamp, and it looks like he has a stack of bills ready to be mailed. There's a group of Parker pens resting on the lamp, too.
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Suburban Chicago, February 1969. I type gingerly because there's no "delete" function! I'm still in the master bedroom because that chair I disliked is behind me.
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