The Dream

Oh, Harry.

I’ve been waiting all year for your book, The Dream. (Actually, I’ve been waiting since I read the last page of The Invisible Wall.)

Walked a mile to the independent bookstore yesterday and all copies were gone.

Walked another half mile to the not-so-independent bookstore and they just sold their last copy.

Walked home. Book-less.

I suppose it is okay because I wasn’t even going to read it. Not at first. I was going to place it on my nightstand like a gift. And look at it a lot. Pick it up and hold it and set it back down. Pick it up again and flip through the pages and maybe glimpse at a few sentences, but not too many because I don’t want to spoil the surprises.

Then when the week was over and my own writing work was finished, I was going to dive in.

I have one more shot – a third store, about two miles away. This time I called in advance. They’re holding it for me.