It was a beautiful summer day today in SouthCentralSmallCity – low 80s, no humidity, blue skies – so I went to my favorite coffee shop and sat outside reading a book for lunch.  Towards the end of the hour, as I sat reading quietly, I was rudely interrupted.

            “Excuse me,” I said, glancing up at my book, startled.

            “I said,” cackled the man leaning toward me, “Whatchya reading?”  I gave him a look of disdain, thoroughly irritated to be interrupted and made a flicking motion with my hand as if to shoo him away.  He did not leave, but stood there, and said, “I just wanna know what you’re reading.”

            I flashed him the cover, reading it aloud as I did so, “If Looks Could Kill.”

          The rude man stalked off.

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