Book Club

I turned down the walk towards the front door and saw a small brown package balanced precariously on the black metal mailbox.  It was from my book club.  As I climbed the steps I searched my mind for what had been at the top of my book picks on the club website.  Was it another craft book?  Perhaps it was a detective mystery?  I couldn’t remember.

 

I pulled the carton with its red type and a pile of bills out of out of the mailbox and let myself into the building.  Maybe it was non-fiction?  Once in the apartment I dropped my keys in the basket and the bills on my desk and went to feed the dog, still carrying the box wondering what was inside.  Was it a book I could read in an evening?  It was early, only five minutes past five, so it was possible. 

 

I flipped on the television and went back to the kitchen for some strawberries, gazing at the box.  What had been on the top of the list?  Was it a novel?  Finally settling on the sofa, Oprah talking to some movie star I didn’t recognize, I tore open the box.  The cover was bright pink.  What the hell kind of book did I have on my list that would be hot pink?

 

“Down and Dirty” the gory red script screamed from the cover.  “Down and Dirty”?  What kind of book was this?  I look more closely at the cover, a cartoonish drawing of a woman’s torso and thighs from the back wearing only heart covered boxer shorts.  What was this?

 

I flipped through it from back to front.  Maybe this was going to be a more interesting afternoon than I thought.  Kicking off my shoes I pointed and flexed my toes and skimmed the text in the hardcover.  “When she eased her grip on my hair…”  Hmm… it was definitely going to be a more interesting afternoon than I thought.

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