on your face, even as you shivered in the brisk autumn air of the New England evening. I invited you inside. You said you missed me, and I said the same. We spent that night catching up, first talking about you and what you had been up to over the summer, for you’d changed since I last saw you. The Corinthian columns and aged red bricks of your Schoolhouse had been covered with scaffolding, and your classrooms were all mixed up and not where I remembered them to be. With your cheeks rosy—perhaps because
only had one blind date in my life. And I didn't really have it. I can think of more interesting situations that are like a blind date - say when someone gives you a book as a present, when they fix you up with that book. I was once given a book of essays about reading, writing, book collecting. I felt it was a perfect match. I started reading it right away, in the back seat of the car. I stopped listening to the conversation in the front. I like to read about how other people read and collect books