It starts out as something to do while I’m waiting for the library to open.  That’s an excuse.  I’ve surrendered myself again.  Lost in fiction, any fiction.  Maybe not any fiction, but I’m not a snob about my escapism.

I dip into the world of the witness protection program and, as I read, the sun filters through the windows and warms the car’s interior, making me forget that outside it’s 42 degrees.  Inside it feels like one of those days where you can lounge on a beach towel or a lawn chair and try to read, but you end up closing your eyes and just feeling the sun warm your skin.

The library opens and I’m still sitting in the car.  Reading.

Car doors open and close around me.  I check the clock.  Just the end of the chapter.

Just another chapter.

Ok, I have to go in.  Why did I come here?

Have tos.  They suck.

Because the want to is to sit here and read and be wrapped in sunny warmth and live someone else’s invention.

But have tos call.  The white space at the end of the chapter breaks my inertia and I reach for the door handle and shudder as the cold air hits my face.