Orignal text
My shiny bookshelves are lined with treasures. Empty cans, their labels removed, their ribbed steel skins polished with silver polish. I wish they were gold. I have rings, there, rings from our trip to Mexico when I was five. Also on the shelves: pictures of jewelry cut out from magazines, glued to cardboard and propped upright; one of the good spoons from the sterling silver my grandmother sent my parents when they were married; silver my mother hates (”god-awful tacky”) and a small collection of nickels, dimes, and quarters, each of which has been boiled and polished with silver polish while watching Donnie and Marie or Tony Orlando and Dawn.
Mock- Defoe
My bookshelves shine and are lined with treasures and adornments. Slivery ribbed steel cans, and rings I kept from a voyage to Mexico when I was five. I wish the cans were gold. They’d then look better in my palace. Along with the cans and rings I have dried papers that have drifted ashore, leaning upright against the wall. My favorite spoon of sterling silver I kept. My grandmother had given them my parents for their wedding though my mother disliked the slivery gleam as she thought it tacky. I also have my coin collection of nickels dimes and quarters. They also have a nice shine to them.
