All These Inscriptions Are for Me

by Carol Scheina

On the outside, there was no indication that the warehouse down the street from my apartment stocked its shelves with books from parallel universes.

It didn’t look like much: a chipped-brick box crammed between a mechanic’s shop and a medical supply depot. In front was an asphalt parking lot dotted with oil stains and flattened screws. The sign above it blinked “Books!” in a seedy-bar shade of neon red.

Money was tight because for one thing, the dentist’s office where I politely answered phones was temporarily closed for remodeling. And the other reason, which I didn’t like to think about, was because I was living on one income now that the divorce was finalized. I had to watch my budget, for there was rent and food, but still, I hungered for an escape between pages. (Continue Reading…)