On the day that my copy of The Fault in Our Stars came home to stay, I found myself at a bar with a photobooth. Clearly, there only was one choice.
I got a green J-scribble. I was hoping for one of the gimpy left-handed scribbles or a Hanklerfish, but I didn’t cheat and check every copy the bookstore had. I went the fortune cookie route and took the one behind my counter with my name on it, because that’s the one I was meant to have.
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