Everything you need to know about a man is in the books he reads. I scour my suitor’s library as he uses the restroom.
Men without books are undeserving of another date. I demand a man with character, depth, knowledge. A man’s library is his mind, and my suitor’s is a labyrinth. I run my fingers along the spines.
I turn the corridors, inhaling the leather and old paper smells.
Then I reach a dead end.
Subjects like Serial Killers, Murder, Hiding Bodies.
I hear his footsteps as he enters the library.