Permanently Deleted
Just waiting for that special lady who will see me in my stained hoodie (it has a hole and stretched out sleeve cuffs) and walk all the way to the edge of the room to greet me. She will have just come away from arguing with her slightly-less-politically coherent friends and will see that I am reading a book.
“I’m sorry, is that Grapes of Wrath?” she will ask me.
I will say that yes, it is, but I’m only reading it as a change of pace from my usual material. When she asks me what my usual is, I will lean in, and say softly, “animal facts.”