Dropping the Book

“Book drop day,” that’s what they call they day an author’s book becomes officially available. Harry Potter fans used to wait in line in their pajamas in front of bookstores for that one-minute- past-midnight hour when J.K. Rowling’s books “dropped” and magic wands everywhere lit the night with exclamation points of wonder.

I, too, was in my pajamas when my book officially dropped. There was no line of eager readers to be seen, however, which was fine with me, as that might have been disturbing in my bedroom.

It was just after midnight when I awoke, directed by some internal clock. “It’s book drop day,” I whispered into the dark.

On book drop day I drank blueberry tea and ate a dark chocolate curry truffle. My salad was garnished with edible flowers, and I felt pleasantly subversive as I nibbled the violet colored petals. I also ate an artichoke, dipping the leaves in melted butter. “Because you have to have a little heart,” Ruthie whispered from my dropped book.

Afterwards, I leaned back in my chair, my eyes closed, enjoying the sunshine on my face after the long winter, and cold spring. In that moment, I couldn’t have asked for more. In that moment, I had enough.

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