Her way of pursuing every single subject
from body parts to love
was to buy an appropriate notebook
and write it all down.
The notebooks themselves
had to be appropriate
to the subject matter. Most subjects
belonged in cheap black and white
ninety nine cent hardbacks, the kind
with the cow cover available
in every Bodega in every supermarket
and it was in these notebooks
that she mostly wrote about everything.
But Dead Ted, how she referred to him now,
only to herself, he seemed to merit another choice:
obvious, pretentious, too expensive
for what it actually was. She walked
to Columbus Avenue and 75
into Paper Source a pricey paper emporium
(imagine callling a stationery store
an emporium!!) and bought her first
and hopefully her last black Moleskin.
Twenty dollars she thought to herself
on her walk him. Is Dead Ted worth it?
I'm really loving this and can't wait for tomorrows installment!
Moleskine bindings are nicer than the paper inside.