A Simple Love

Having mulled this challenge over in my mind for some days, I crossed off many joyful memories: my wedding day, the first meeting between my wife and I, staying in Florence. However, I want to recount the day I met the true love of my life.

It was an obscure street, in an obscure part of London. The late afternoon autumnal sun sprinkled its light on the quiet street. Up ahead, behind the glass of the small bookshop window, a stranger was waiting for me. Someone whose native language wasn't my own.

The gangle of the bell above the door announced my arrival. Spines, covers, words, faces and images clamoured for my attention. I stood for a few moments, sniffing the air like a wine connoisseur. My mind was open, for often I go to bookshops with an author or title in mind. Also, back then I didn't have much money, so I knew that hardbacks were beyond my budget.

On a revolving rack, its colour sang out to me. The two tone design. The black white photo. The author's name I couldn't yet pronounce. But the title spoke to me: Equal Danger. Who would entitle their book with such ambiguity? I picked it out of the rack and read the quotes used by the author to embellish his book. Montaigne, Rousseau.... I read the first line, my heart stopped.

I began to read the bumpf at the back, and then, I saw that Gore Vidal called him a protean talent.

And this, my dear readers, is where my love of Leonardo Sciascia's books started.

It is a love that has yet to die.

Footnote: The author's name is pronounced Sharshar, should you wish to seek out his books.