book_ephemera tender_square in a waterlogged copy of "a movable feast," two slips of paper slipped into the pages: unused "patron's signature refund slip" for movie tickets. one has a diamond cut into the center, the liquid writing like the coiled cable of an analog telephone. "nietzche — the best thoughts come while walking" "wallace stevens — poet 'too many waltzes have ended'" "w.h. auden — poetry the art of living in nyc lies in crossing the street against the lights." a list of german words are printed in tight script to make the spelling legible: "kunstwissenschaft weltaschauung gemeinschaft gesellschaft schadenfreude schwarmerei" 220702 ... raze hidden in the back of "the woman in the dunes" is a thoughtful computer-printed letter from don johnson (not *that* don johnson ... or is it?), addressed to someone who either didn't read the book or didn't appreciate it enough to hold onto it. it begins: "eric, don't be misled by the simple sentence structure of kobo abe's book, or the rather straightforward unrolling of the plot. beneath these lie a story that unfolds itself as a many-layered philosophical discourse." both denis johnson's "train dreams" and albert camus's "the stranger" feature handwritten notes in the margins that stop around the halfway mark. between pages 100 and 101 of nathan poole's "father brother keeper", there's a beautiful invitation to laura chasanoff's baby shower in new_orleans. on the back of the card is a picture of the parents-to-be. they're standing in a park. a man in a green polo shirt and khakis with retreating brown hair holds hands with a smiling woman who wears a strapless blue dress. her eyes are cast down. her free hand cradles her unborn child through cotton or polyester or a blend of both. she could slide her head beneath her husband's chin if she wanted to. she doesn't. there's a note below their bodies: "one small request: in lieu of a card, please bring a book with a special message inside for baby boy chasanoff." tupelo hassman's "girlchild" holds a receipt from the santa cruz bookshop on pacific avenue. on june 5, 2013, two books were purchased at 6:20 p.m. the total came to $24.98 after taxes. two quotes act as twin bookmarks between pages 34 and 35 of brock cole's "the facts speak for themselves". the first is attributed to emily dickinson. "dwell in possibility." black script on white paper. the second comes from eleanor roosevelt. on a three-hued orange and red background made coarse by a printer's failing ink: "you gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. do the thing you think you cannot do." there's a shredded orange post-it note between pages 174 and 175 of michael crummey's "sweetland". nothing is written on it. a few withdrawn library books still have pockets in the back. and i'm sure one title had a boarding pass nestled between two of its pages. but i can't find it now. 220704 ... tender_square in a used copy of "what if this were enough?" by heather havrilesky, an inscription tattooed in blue: "december 2019 happy hannukah, bug! you are enough [scribble] for me. always, b." 220802 what's it to you? who go blather from