The book was blue and from a pile for a show called the Homey Show which was a space outfitted with art in abstract and more conventional forms in a place I lived - a kind of punk house called double double land. A brought the books to use as props but the show didn't really have a lot of props, so it is hard to remember how or where they were used. All the books were old editions of paperbacks and all had good covers. A seemed to have collected them for their appearance as much as for their content. Not long after A was in a show which included lists of things she needed to do but had been putting off. One of the items on the list was to get the pile of books back.
Among the books was The Hour of the Star by Clarice Lispector. I open it and read the first part which started with, “everything in the world began with a yes.” The passage that followed felt like the energy a bullet might have; felt like a traveling agreement.
The rest of the book felt like other books, like words in a row.
The book stays in my collection and is never picked up by A. I don’t open the book again or offer to return it to A.
Instead it is found by M, who is house sitting at my place and pulls it out to tell me it is her favorite book and quotes the first line, “the whole world started with a yes.” I then decide to use the book for a place to store my performance cards. Each card has an idea, an action, a complete moment. There are six cards. There are six things to do. I do not read the passage again, but remember it enough to want it around.
I will still not return the book to A. She comes by with M and sees the book. She does not know the book is hers and I don’t feel like telling her.