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Regardless of what I've read, seen, or heard from anyone else, The Great Gatsby has always struck a chord with me. It's a novel that I forget then reread and then choose the same favorite quotes accidentally. Every time.

The Paris Review recently published a piece in which the author believed to have visited the town "Where Daisy Buchanan Lived." I'm silly about these kinds of things, so of course we drove up.

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I should have seen this coming, what with the golf course as the article's feature photo; but when I got there.. it was mostly just a golf course. The bemused country club attendants showed me where I could take this gloriously lit photo, but the sky was paler than an April morning.

But nevermind. Adventures end when you let them, and we weren't ready.

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We found the most picturesque pond, fresh with wildflowers and dotted with the drizzling rain. It was regal, enchanting, and everything I pictured Daisy to call home.

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