Kids, on the warm first day of March 2019 I went to the Big Bad Wolf Book Sale on the

World Trade
Center and my life changed forever.

Ever since I was a little kid I’ve always loved books. I spent a lot of my time reading and immersing
myself unto the worlds created by the wonderful, imaginative minds of the authors. Every time I see an
old book store I couldn’t help myself but check out its inside and bask in its strange wistfulness, which is
somehow infused with the passage of time—filled with hundreds of old books I’ll never have time to
read, each of which is itself locked in its own era, bound and dated and papered over like an old room
the author abandoned years ago, a hidden annex littered with thoughts left just as they were on the day
they were captured. Imagine my joy when I discovered an event that allowed a broke guy in his early
20’s the possibility of finding a hidden gem amongst the mountain of discounted books available for
sale.

I went into the event determined to find and buy amazing pieces of science-fiction and fantasy
literature. I spent a good hour wandering through rows and rows of books while stopping occasionally to
check out a paperback that caught my eye, drawn by the colors of the cover art and intrigued by the
book’s plot summary like a hiker on a mountain enthralled by nature’s beauty. After a while fatigue
started to set in as my feet gradually felt numb from exploring so I started to look around for an ideal
spot to take a break.

And then it happened.

From the corner of my eye I spotted a girl passing by clutching a copy of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Silmarillion.
I instantly recognized the cover art because ever since I acquired copies of the LOTR trilogy a few years
back, I’ve desired to have The Silmarillion and read about Middle-Earth’s mythos. Scratch that, I didn’t
just want it, I NEEDED it. She stopped a few meters away to check out a book so I took a deep breath,
practiced what I was going to say in my head a few times and then started to walk towards her.

As I approached I began to focus on the girl’s features and kids believe me when I tell you that she is b-
e-a-utiful! Her medium length hair is playfully tied up in a loose bun giving her the look of a woman
ready to brighten up any room that she enters. Her eyes are hidden behind round glasses like the one
The-Boy-Who-Lived wears, yet somehow the eyewear perfectly accents her face adding a layer of
mystery on her yet unknown persona. I’ve seen many girls wear plain white shirts over the course of my
lifetime before but kids believe me when I tell you that with the way this woman is rocking that top,
even rags would look good on her. I caught a whiff of her perfume as I got closer and closer and boy did
she smell good.

There I was standing behind a stranger, my mind racing to figure out what to say and imagining multiple
scenarios on how badly this encounter could end. I took a deep breath, told myself to grow some balls
and then gently tapped her left shoulder.
“Hello. ”

the moment a conversation becomes real and alive, which occurs when a spark of trust shorts out the
delicate circuits you keep insulated under layers of irony, momentarily grounding the static emotional
charge you’ve built up through years of friction with the world.