![]() ![]() They were old books, with worn paperback covers and torn yellow pages. I backed away, and when he didn’t say anything, I crept toward the two shelves and started looking through the novels. He pulled out a dirty handkerchief and began wiping the sweat from his neck, his red eyes now wide open, staring at me. I worried he might attack me, or tear me apart, but he settled his body back into the chair and sighed. “I’m just gonna look for a novel,” I said, pointing to the paperbacks. ![]() His body shook, and his left eye cracked open to reveal a red circle. The sound of his snoring stopped immediately. I tried to get his attention by touching his lumpy thigh. At the same time, I couldn’t leave, because I couldn’t imagine spending the day without a novel. I was scared he’d wake with a start and see me. But the man was asleep, even though it was already morning. Dozens of small paperbacks were piled on top of them. To the left were the two small shelves I’d been dreaming about for days. I stood by the door not knowing what to do. ![]()
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