Someone has stolen my copy of Fuentes’ Terra Nostra. Now why would _anyone_ do something like that. I’d only left it on a coffee table for 5 minutes while walking across the hall to someone’s mailbox and now it’s gone. Is this person compelled to steal 800 page fabulist texts that are left lying by their owners, too absorbed in Fuentes’ world to realize the dangers in this one. Well now I have had these dangers realized and I feel confused. Just when I’d found a book that I wanted to finish (unlike the 27 others I have on my nightstand) someone comes along and takes it. Perhaps it was an omen, perhaps the moment I finish reading that copy of Terra Nostra, the world will come to an end and I will wake up from this dream that was purposed to drive me to the new world. But if all I know is the dream… Am I Borges? Who is my saviour, the benevolent thief who permits me to linger. If you’re reading this (as I’m sure you are my angel), I forgive you. Now, if you’d only leave the book exactly where you found it by Friday, I won’t burn you at the stake.