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Picking this up I was instantly excited,  like I had found a letter in an attic.  Maybe it’s the thin newsprint that  smells old and good. Also the small,  neatly typed words that cling to the  pages, and the ghostly vellum encasing  the whole thing. Inside this quarter-size zine are  12 vignettes about various strangers:  boys seen on trains and buses, through  windows, or stocking store shelves.  They are not quite poems but the prose  is lyrical. The writing is simple and  unpretentious.

What I found delightful about  this zine is how the author describes  feeting encounters without taking a  “what might have been” angle. They  are not “missed connections,” a trend  fueled by the delusion that there must  be something more to an exchange of  smiles, that the feeting frisson between  strangers always has to be thwarted true  love. Rather, a passage about observing  a friend-of-friends ends with this: “By  now I would have broken/ the ice. /But  why bother?” She is just cataloguing her  lovely strangers. To this end, the closing sentence  in “Everywhere Boy” seems more  philosophical than wistful: “If we still  have not spoken by the time you’ve read  this/then what was it all for?” (Danielle  Patrick)

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