There's a little free library on my street. A wooden box on a post, holds maybe ten books. Last month I left my favorite book in it — the copy with all my notes in the margins. 'This line got me.' 'Nobody recovers this fast.' 'I'd forgive him too.' Today it's back. Same coffee stain on page 41. But under every note of mine, someone wrote back in blue pen. Under 'I'd forgive him too' it says: 'You would? I've been arguing with you about this for a month.' I don't know this handwriting. I check the street. Empty.

I flip to the inside cover and write it big: 'WHO ARE YOU?' Then, smaller: 'Your notes are better than the book. And this is my favorite book.' I put it back in the box before I can chicken out. Three days. Nothing. Day four, the book is back. There's blue ink under my question.