Once upon a time, there was a story that began, “
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You who read this grant me life. I was born not long after the towers fell, when perhaps the strangest thing happened to me, the boy who wouldn’t shut up; I took a job where my responsibility was to always be present but silent, to hear and not to say. My father once said, “Everyone is necessarily the hero of his own life story.” But some of us make a different choice. Seeing ourselves as a poor man’s Rosencrantz, we volunteer to be the supporting cast of a more brilliant story. We forbear our own audition-worthy monologue in the hopes that the luster of refracted light from more brilliant sources shall bathe us in its reflected glory.