Daniel is a known unreliable witness.
I have photographic evidence.
Then one Thursday evening, she sent me a picture of a small storefront with tall windows and a faded red door.
What do you think?
I called her.
“You found a bookstore?”
“Potential bookstore.”
“What’s the difference?”
“One has customers. The other has an empty room and a landlord who thinks the floor is made of gold.”
I laughed.
“Where is it?”
“Two blocks from the university. The neighborhood has changed, but there are apartments nearby, a coffee shop across the street, and a bus stop around the corner.”
“You’ve already done the research.”
“I’m trying to be responsible.”
“Terrible habit.”
She laughed.
Then her voice softened.
“I was afraid to tell anyone about this.”
“Why?”
“Because if I fail, I’ll have to admit I wasted money on a dream I should have abandoned years ago.”
