I remember well a yellow tape recorder.
A heavy machine with switches edged in silver and big black buttons that crunched when you pressed them. The cord folded up into the back and a carying handle slid out from the front. The tape door popped open like a game.
I spent a lot of good summers with that big yellow tape recorder. I listened endlessly to audio books; all the while munching on the cheezits my mother knew I liked so well.
There were sticky Carolina summers, gorgeous Victorian sceneries and delicious murder to be sure; all while complex characters acted out their lives in plot for my entertainment.
I made a lot of friends over those summers.
I also
ate a lot of cheezits.

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