‘Hey, book dude.’
His voice is slow and quiet, with just the hint of a Scottish accent. I’ve not met enough Scots to be able to guess which area, but the word Aberdeen pops into my head anyway, with absolutely no credible rationale.
I keep reading as I walk. It’s after 10pm and it’s dark, but this is my familiar walk home so I can tell by the changing intensity of light on the page that I’m about to hit a lamppost. I make a quick mid-stride step to the left to avoid the impact.
‘That’s some impressive walking, book dude.’
I turn the page. ‘Thanks.’ Continue reading