My father-in-law had set up the projector to re-live the family’s first trip to Disney. A much younger version of my husband — with braces and crew cut — and his sister flashed by in whirling teacups. They grinned at the camera like twins wearing identical mouse ears. Suddenly I screamed, “Hey, that’s me!” Sure enough, there I was standing grumpily in line, pony-tailed with plastic sunglasses stuck to my chubby cheeks. My world shifted again. I may not believe in God or Fate, but I love the power of outlandish coincidence and the mad intersection of people and places.

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