She stood in front of a dogwood tree, the white petals shimmering in the breeze and surrounding her like an aura. There were probably people around her, but I didn't notice. She was as uncommon and striking as the Statue of Liberty. Later, I tried to write about that moment, but could barely complete a sentence. In the instant I dropped Norton's Anthology of English Literature on the library steps and stared at her, something fundamental captured me. I am careful about words, but I think 'captured' is the right one.
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