Chris Wildgen

George, The Little Black Book

Perhaps I should not have, but it just sat there, lonely. I picked it up, not of my own volition, really, just because it didn’t seem right to leave it there, new, unused, neglected, abandoned. And now that it was in my hands, what should I do with it? Just open the cover, find the name and return it to its owner. But inside the cover, blank pages gave silent witness to its newness.