I went to the book shop to hear
Frank Walk read from his latest
and as I’m going in there’s this
black man holding the door for
me. As I often do, I creep by
without looking him in the
face—focusing instead on the
proximity of my knuckles to the
door-frame. When the reader is
introduced I realized the man
who had helped me in was
none other than the guest of
honor. I should have known it
was him based on the color of
his skin—A black guy in a book
store?

*Then I saw another brother
there, I sat corrected.

-Jude Lally