Morning Bra calls and he's visiting Da, meeting Da, and he tells me Da's given him a scrapbook chock of newspaper clippings with Da's writing, and I've only seen a single piece, a column written when I was like two, which I have, brown. I amp. I ask Bra if he has a scanner. No.
A lot of people have the day off. We can tell already.
There's a big pile of books that came in on the weekend, unpriced and waiting shucking. I go through and I'm no longer thinking of the store, just me. I pick. I buy two.
READING TOMORROW NIGHT →
Meet Christiana. Hi!
How many people celebrated Veterans Day last November are having their families remember them this Memorial Day?
Labels: confessions of a bookseller
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