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Bookworm Stories

My Point Is . . .

Donald Unger
3 min readJun 3, 2019
Credit: Shutterstock.com

He waited almost a week.

And then — just when he was about to give up and make contact himself — he got the first email, which contained not a single word, whose sole content was a solitary character: “!”

Which made him smile.

Which made him frown.

Which furrowed his brow.

And then, again, he waited.

They came in a steady trickle, over the course of almost a month, less repetition than a slow, relentless, accretion, a drumbeat, a march, an orderly sequence: “!!” “!!!” and then — a witty hybrid, he thought — “!v.”

Well, alright, he told himself, she’s reading — at least. Slowly, yes, but reading.

And — if this constituted upset, her response, albeit minimalist and measured — at least she was communicating. If the first “!” had — bare minimum — unnerved him, over a period of weeks, the accumulation came to feel almost reassuring, less exclamatory, less a sign of indignation or outrage, and more evidence of steady progress: Onward!

Reading.

Onward.

But then, another change, a reversion — at least in quantity — to that first pungently distilled missive, a message of a fundamentally different . . . character: “?”

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Donald Unger
Donald Unger

Written by Donald Unger

I write what I know and what I’ve lived: humor & chronic pain; politics & parenting; business writing & cultural analysis; and . . . ranting (a lot of ranting).

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