It was waiting for me on a high shelf in a shop for used and antiquarian books. I didn’t see it at first of course. I was lingering around some vividly colored dictionaries carelessly thumbing through them when I raised my eyes and saw it. It was there, like a black supernova with an electric blue core. I reached out my hand and picked it. It filled my hand with its heaviness, the heaviness of a ripe fruit. I paid, put it carefully into my bag and then lost myself in the labyrinthine streets of the old city. Somewhere near my right hip, I could feel through the canvas bag the pages of the book vibrating dimly.