The Little Black Notebook
It was a cloudless first day of May when I found it. I always stopped by the bookstore when I walked in that part of town. On sunny days, the owner put out a table filled with books that hadn’t found a home. Besides the books, there was a coffee can chained to the table and a sign that said “Take a book. Donations accepted.” The can had a slot in its lid where you could put a little money if you had any and thought a book was worth it. Sometimes, if I had any, I’d put some change in. Most of the books, well, let’s just say there was a reason they were on that table. Occasionally, though, a gem hid amongst the dreck.
