Dreams of the Quill

Marin stood in front of the public library on Shattuck Avenue. She had once seen a craigslist transaction occur in this spot, and figured she’d recycle the location. It was a little past noon and hordes of people were passing by on the sidewalks of what served as the college town’s main street. Nothing too interesting to look at, thought Marin. She wished that the guy selling the book would get there sooner.

“Marin?” came a shocked voice from behind the girl. “Is that you?”

Marin spun around, berating herself mentally for not having had her back to a wall. There, standing before her, was a man she recognized from her middle school days.

“George?”

“Hahaha, wow,” began the guy, “the internet’s great, huh?”

“I never thought that you’d be… wow,” Marin agreed. “Dorito George. It’s been a while.”

“Seriously! But Marin, what uh… what happened to you?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Er, you look—” George gulped upon noticing Marin’s narrowing eyes, and quickly finished his sentence. “—beautiful.”

“Why thank you,” Marin said.

In a flash, a camera lens was in Marin’s face.

“Say ‘cheese.’”

“Oh, there’s a terrorist here,” Marin whispered jokingly. George pressed the trigger and the camera flashed. “Geez, you know I don’t like having my picture taken.”

“Cameras exist to capture beautiful things,” George smiled. “Anyway, what are you doing up here in Berkeley, Marin?”

“I go to college here. You?”

“Same! Only, I don’t really go. My photography schedule gets in the way four days out of five.”

“You’ve become even more obsessed, huh,” Marin giggled.

“Not obsessed! Dedicated!”

“Mmmm, sure. You know, I’d love to catch up, but I’ve got class to get to in about forty minutes. Think we could do the exchange?”

“Oh, of course,” George said, removing his backpack and rummaging in it. He produced a fat hardcover tome and handed it to Marin, who passed him two hundred dollars in fifties. “Um, enjoy it, I guess. I feel bad doing this though, since you’re a friend, and all.”

“Doing ‘this?’” asked Marin.

“Well, it hasn’t talked, not for me. I bought it on impulse from the last person who put it on the site. Ah well, if you feel gipped, just sell it again. Lots of suckers out there.”

“Thanks for calling me a sucker,” Marin smiled sweetly.

“Hey, I’m one, too. Anyway, you said you have class?”

“Yep.”

“Let’s stay in touch, maybe go take pictures of the sunrise together.”

“Sounds good.”

Marin whistled a little as she walked to her class. Two hundred dollars was little price to pay to be reunited with an old friend. Maybe life would stop being so boring now—after all, Dorito George was one of the quirkier people she’d ever encountered.