IT’S 2:02 A.M. ON A COLD SUMMER NIGHT.
I’m sitting in a book store next to a strip club.
Not that kind of book store. The inventory here is incredibly old and impossibly rare. And it has a secret—a secret that I might have just discovered.
I am alone in the store. And then, tap-tap, suddenly I’m not.
And now I’m pretty sure I’m about to snap my laptop shut, run screaming out the front door, and never return.
If you read any literature this year, read this story. A gold star. Five gold stars. A gold bar. This thing is amazing.
