241 - Novel


You see the three-packs of coffee-themed bookmarks hanging on a display tree in front of the register and you know they’re right for you. Quickly pulling a pack down from the rack, you bring it to your face, as if inspecting them for quality. You nod in affirmation: these cheap novelty magnetic bookmarks are up to your standards for useless impulse buys.

You lay the bookmarks down on top of your copy of the latest Dan Brown novel, giggling internally at what you mistakenly believe to be the humor of the image of you sipping coffee while reading a book with a coffee bookmark hanging from the cover.

When you flash a knowing smile to the clerk, she politely returns the expression, though she doesn’t know whatever your smile implies. She places the bookmarks in the bag with your novel, where they are quickly forgotten.

You throw them away three weeks later when you find the bag, which you assume to be empty, in the back seat of your car.

You never needed them, anyway; you never read the book.