(Another) Café Morning

The fellow at the next table saw my display when he turned to leave. “Did you write all these?”

40ish. Pale. Thin. Darkly dressed. Maybe a Brit.

I said I had.

“I don’t remember the last novel I read,” he said.

“Only two of these are novels,” I said.

“Yes, I do,” he said. “A friend wrote it.”

I pitched, in 50 words or less, total, the four books that were not novels.

He made videos. He did not believe books had a future.

I believed they did.

Adele said, later, “Become his friend, and maybe he will buy a book of yours.

I considered the plusses and minuses.