<-- The dust jacket of my book is upside down.
What I mean is, I cannot put it right side up.
See, it's a Library Book and the dust cover is rather severely AFFIXED to the thing.
To rectify the problem would require a measure of surgical skill I do not possess.
The book is Death of a Murderer by Rupert Thomson.
And so I just began reading it this evening.
There I was at Starbucks [of course] and well, I should preface by saying that I rarely read a book while it lays flat open on a table. I hold it, one way or another.
Looking on, you can SEE what it is I am reading. [Getting the picture?]
Not only this, but tonight I wasn't even AT a table. I was in one of the comfy couch-type chairs at the fireplace area.
I knew it was only a matter of time before someone would conclude that I have some kind of brain disease.
I mean, dyslexic is understandable, but reading upside down?
Sure enough, I saw one or two people do a double-take. The whole experience was very distracting for me.
I even thought of going over to the shelves and getting some OTHER dust jacket off a book and putting it around this one, right side up.
People kept a wide berth around me.
"Whatever he's got, it might be contagious. I ain't gettin' any nearer!"
When I heard one man cry out to a woman heedlessly toddling towards me, "Muriel, no! Stay downwind!" I realized it was time to go home.