Novels still cast a spell in the age of BookTok
At least it was summer. As he stretched after a warm if still uncomfortable night, he looked at the queue. It didn’t seem as long as usual. He remembered the last launch. All those cameras taking his picture as he held it aloft by the door. The staff had formed an arch in the store as he left. It still topped his “what would you rescue from a fire” list. He had it with him. He reached into the bag, felt the weight, stroked the smooth corners. He thought about reading it now, but it had just started to rain.