Memory Palace Summer Reading: The Great Gatsby, part 3
the memory palace
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The Last Night in New York
Gasby's house was still empty when i left. The grass on his lawn had grown as long as mine. One of the taxi drivers in the village never took a fair past the entrance gate without stopping for a minute and pointing inside. I spent my saturday nights in new york because those gleaming, dazzling parties of his were with me so vividly that i could still hear the music and the laughter from his garden.
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