I Am A Bibliophile

The sign that notified the exit I had to take to work was becoming more and more legible in the distance. I averted my eyes as I passed it. The guilty rose up, but I pushed it down, remembering how I had promised myself I wouldn’t regret this spur-of-the-moment decision. This was unlike me. Unlike my sheltered, routine lifestyle. 

I grabbed my cell phone and punched those familiar numbers. A groggy voice answered. I swallowed my pride. “Okay,” I said.

There was a pause from the other end. I knew he was smiling. “Okay, what,” he asked, knowing exactly what I meant, but wanting to hear those words that I had so much trouble saying a few days ago.

“Okay,” I said, taking in a breathe, “let’s go on a roadtrip.”

“And you’re sure,” he asked. “Sure you want to leave everything and start anew? It’s not going to be easy.”

“I’m sure,” I said. “Be ready in ten minutes. I’ll be waiting outside your building to pick you up. Don’t bother calling this phone because I’m getting rid of it after I hang up. And please don’t take long. I might change my mind.”

Laughter erupted from the other line. “No you won’t,” he reassured me.