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Yesterday afternoon, while reading comic books. I was behind on my reading a bit, and when I got to the end of Fables #33 and found out who the killer was and why, I lost it. I'm easily affected by well made fiction, and get emotionally attached to well-defined characters.
My classes have learned that it's really nothing to get concerned about when Miss Gilda loses it while reading the ending of Lyddie (for example) because that's just how I'm wired. I'll cry when something affects me deeply, and I'm never ashamed of having done so.
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