It has thoughts, half-formed, scribbled in the margins; I turn the pages, bent and torn, and its imperfections tell me secrets about every person who’s been through here before–everyone who’s walked through the lines of this softened paper. I’d never trade my old, worn copy for a clean page.

Zeke Shomler is pursuing a combined MA/MFA in Fairbanks, Alaska. He usually writes poetry, but has a big thing for microfiction. You can find him at @zekeshomler on social media.