Hello Goodbye (short story)
She was sitting on the thinly carpeted floor, legs crossed and reading a book, when I turned the corner of the literature section and saw her. Her purse lay on its side next to her, contents spilling out. She didn't seem to care, or possibly hadn't yet noticed, me or the purse. She was blocking the poetry section, maybe because she figured nobody ever visited these books, or maybe because she simply did not care. Either way, she was blocking me. I was here for Sexton. "Your purse threw up," I said. An electronic dictionary/thesaurus had slid out, along with a guitar pick, a beer coaster, a cell phone, and a little plastic monkey. She turned from her book and glanced over at her purse. She looked up and said, "Thanks, guy." She put the remaining items back into her purse and pushed it between her legs just as her cell phone beeped. She ignored it and continued with her book. She was here for Neruda. At the indoor coffee cafe on the other side