(no subject)
On the walk home tonight I was passing the Goodwill Drop Off center at the end of our street. Often I will see loads left at all hours beneath the trailer, sitting in a sad pile for anyone to rummage through between midnight and eight o' clock. Most of it is shit and I don't even get close to inspect it.
But sometimes, just sometimes, you may come upon a gaddamn literary goldmine beneath that trailer.
Strewn upon the cement in a seemingly haphazard array, someone jettisoned a stack of Steinbeck, some Poe, a few paperbacks and some hard-covers too. When I reached for these books, some lying splayed on their faces as though chucked from a moving car, I felt the already-forming dew on their cold spines.
I've taken some of them home, to warm them by the fire.
But sometimes, just sometimes, you may come upon a gaddamn literary goldmine beneath that trailer.
Strewn upon the cement in a seemingly haphazard array, someone jettisoned a stack of Steinbeck, some Poe, a few paperbacks and some hard-covers too. When I reached for these books, some lying splayed on their faces as though chucked from a moving car, I felt the already-forming dew on their cold spines.
I've taken some of them home, to warm them by the fire.