Postcards of People I Don't Know VII

A Person I Talked to Once and Still Think About

He held the book five inches from my face. "I liked it for many reasons," he said. "The smell of it being one." I lowered my head and smelled it careful not to make a sniffing sound in the quiet store.

Thinking I'll throw it out, I take it from a small stack on the floor from time to time. I end up smelling it instead. Some days I think it smells like leather. Other days I could swear it smells like mixed nuts.