January 26, 2016

Used bookstores and airport stories

I went to the bookstore on a Sunday. Sometimes I do that when I travel. I have anxiety. What can I say? Used books with the price written just inside on the title page. 

I saw What Alice Forgot. Seven dollars. And then on to what I was looking for: The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry. And then a copy of The Road by Cormac McCarthy. How do I not own a copy of that book? Well, I guess now I technically own a copy of each of the above books. Thankfully I didn't keep myself on a budget because little could I have suspected that I would get stuck again at Sky Harbor. How many times have I sworn this place off? Sworn off this place? Bid forever farewell to Sky Harbor. You get my drift.

Needless to say it was an oxygen concentrator communicator or something equally necessary and we ended up on a different aircraft. The Storied Life of A.J Fikry had wonderful engaging and flirtatious dialogue. The ambiguity was delicious, as the kitchen magnet says. The twist ending left something to be desired and left the taste of Still Alice in my mouth. The ending of Still Alice was in fact perfect, as it was appropriately placed. Luckily the last page of A.J. turned it around, but still. 

All I'm really saying is thank goodness I also purchased What Alice Forgot because the new plane is only just taking off and my phone is going to die. 


  1. I read some Cormac Mcarthy this year, but I decided to wait until summer to read more because of SAD.

    1. But also because of GORE.
      That being said, The Road is one of my all-time favorite books.