memoir
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A lyrical essay on how scent, sound, and touch store our earliest memories—and how revisiting them can bring us closer to who we were.
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He was born in the early 1950s, in a countryside village where winters were long and electricity arrived late. His earliest memories, I imagine, were of rice fields and the way steam rose from his mother’s morning soup. He didn’t talk much about those days — only that the mountains were close and the neighbors,…
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