Confabulation by Ronald Thomas

note right in front of her. Going seemed like a better idea with each bite. Did she want to go? Was someone making her want to go? In the end, she figured that if someone could make her think what they wanted, she didn’t have much choice in the long run.
    She stepped past the heavy green door. A bell jingled above and she giggled at the weak sound that welcomed her. She took a few moments to take in the musty smell of old books and old wood. The place seemed well-lit and cool but not cold air. A nice change from the already hot summer morning outside.
    "Can I help you?"
    Carolyn turned. A short, bald man with large glasses stood in front of her. She stared at his white shirt, pinstripe pants, and braces. Seemed more at home in one of the books on the shelves than in the store. She blinked and realized he’d asked her a question. "I’m not sure what I’m looking for."
    "Oh, just browsing then. Why don’t you come with me to the back?” He motioned with his head down a hall. “It holds our more interesting pieces. Not many people buy any of the books back there, a bit pricey, but they’re nice to look at. It’s like my own little book museum." He reached for her hand.
    She took the wrinkled hand. Strong grip. She followed him to the back. He opened the door to a small room full of old books sitting face out behind glass doors. The clerk placed his hand on her back and stepped behind her. "I’ll leave you alone now. Enjoy the items, and let me know if you need anything." As he stepped away, he pointed to a small book that seemed newer than the others, alone in a case that was unlocked. "Many people enjoy that book, since you’re allowed to read it."
    "Oh, thanks." She watched him leave. She turned back to the book. Heard the door shut behind her. "Now, what is in this book?"
    Though it appeared newer than the others, the pages still seemed dry and the binding rigid. Carolyn turned the pages of the old text. Blank. She flipped through more pages. Blank. All blank. She cleared her throat and closed the book. Looked at the back and cover.
    A symbol on the back and front. Wavy lines.
    No title. No author.
    She looked at the spine. Wavy lines.
    She opened the book again.
    Still blank, but there was something there. A memory. A notion of what she had seen before. She shook her head. She’d never seen the book. Still, she could remember the pages full of words. She tried to remember. Tried to picture the pages.
    She could see the type, but not read the text. Just an image of a book. She put it down.
    “Damn.”
    "Is there a problem with the book, ma’am."
    Carolyn slammed the book shut and jumped from the chair. She was relieved to only find the aged store clerk standing in the doorway. "Sorry. You startled me."
    "Then I’m the one who’s sorry." He bowed his head. "Didn’t you enjoy the book?"
    "Well, I found it, difficult to read."
    "Ah, I see. As I said, it’s quite a curiosity around here. I have something else you might be more interested in, though. Exactly what you’re looking for, I’d say. You’d have to buy it, though. It’s wrapped, you see. One of the few things."
    She nodded. Followed him back into the main store and to the counter.
    He took out a box from underneath the register. Full of shrink-wrapped postcards. Pulled one from the end middle of the stack. "I had these made last year. Pictures of some of my favorite books, as well as some book and magazine collectibles around the world. I think they’re quite lovely, don’t you."
    She smiled. "They certainly are.” She felt like she was in the middle of a strange role playing spy game. “I think I’ll take a package."
    "Excellent.” He placed the selected pack in a bag. “I’m sure the recipients of these will enjoy them just as much as I do." He slipped her receipt into the bag.
    "I’m sure they will." She smiled and took the bag from then clerk. She turned to exit.
    “Excuse me, miss. You forgot your receipt.”
    She turned back as two