I need to accomplish something, even if it’s something dumb like finishing one of these goddamn library books I keep going out to get. Stacking them on my nightstand, fiddling them back & forth, back & forth from one hand to the other, reading & re-reading the front and back cover before diligently returning them to their metal box, perfectly intact and on time. Just one finished book, then it would start. One accomplishment would lead to another and another and another before there was a stack piling high up and past the sky and when he looked back, when he looked back at me if only for a second, all he would see were stacks and stacks of books. Library books of accomplishment. He would have no other choice but to turn around, come back and push a stack over just to see me again.