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A sparrow flits across the plaza courtyard at the Flatiron Building, known as Ester Place. A beautiful baby girl pitbull, her white and brown face alert, perks up her ears at the sound of the sparrow. Her guardians sit at a nearby table, engrossed in a topic that piques my interest: old British horror films. The animated, bearded man I recognize is recounting the tales of the ghastly British films he's seen with such enthusiasm that it's comical, especially since I remember those same ridiculous films and have seen them too.
The morning brings a gentle breeze through the courtyard as I bask in the sun under an umbrella, reading a few pages of Harper Lee's 'To Kill a Mockingbird,' more for study than leisure. I admire her writing style. Ever since watching the film adaptation years ago, with Gregory Peck portraying Atticus, I've wanted to read the book. It's one of the most profound films depicting the racism prevalent in the South at the time. Many positive developments are unfolding, just as Saleem foretold, urging me to remain patient. There were times I doubted it all, but now, I truly believe in his words.
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AuthorCHARLES PEARSON Archives
January 2026
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