....What could it be? And how did it wait so long for others to take it along, when it itself didn’t know what it was? And whom could it ask to find out? Whom? Whom? Whom?


It was a  lonely  book,  in the  last  bookcase  on the very top shelf, somewhere on the right. A book –perhaps the only one in the entire bookstore, the biggest bookstore in town– that did not know how to read.

And the letters it carried on its pages, beautiful letters, artful, were saying nothing to it.
Absolutely nothing.
Letters, you see, never speak but to those only who know how to read them.
Letters are so, so proud!




Complete story...
        zero and infinity