Stutter and growl.

Busy, busy, busy.

I just finished Cat’s Cradle and the new Harry Potter. Our professor assigned The Intuitionist by Colson Whitehead in class today. I surreptitiously checked the library web site — one copy, Clemons library. No one else knows yet, I can rush over right after class and avoid paying $20 at the Bookstore. As soon as the professor let us go, I dashed to the door, trotting across grounds to the library. But I did not want to look too purposeful; someone might catch on and follow me. I looked around. No one else from my class was visible. It was a scorching day, but the library was cool, four floors of tiled stairs between my and my quarry. I passed by aisles and aisles of books, PQ … PQ … PR … PS … 2000 … 3000 … there it was! PS3573 .H4768 I58 1999. I snatched the tome from the shelf and ran out into the open, only to be met by a girl in the same class. I hadn’t checked the book out yet, she could still snatch it from me. Across the room, her expression was indiscernible, so I tried bravado.

“Looking for this?” I said, holding the book up as we walked closer and closer to each other. I was prepared for anything. But to my surprise, she admitted defeat: “I guess it’s the Bookstore for me.”

Moved by this, I offered to lend it to her after I finished reading it. I’m such a sucker.