Ｔｈｅ Ｆｅｌｌｏｗｓｈｉｐ ｏｆ ｔｈｅ Ｌｏｓｔ ａｎｄ Ｆｏｕｎｄ

On Tuesday night， I stood in front of my post office mailbox with a feeling of a dense haze seeping across my eyes and a surge ofdisappointment. In my hand was a thin envelope with theinscription of Stanford Law School on the right-hand comer. For a month，I had been walking ten minutes daily to the school’s post office to peer inthat little metallica hole in the middle of hundreds of other boxes.