Congratulations on Sorting Out the Last Piece of the Puzzle!

The piece of paper will have an address scrawled on it. It will be in Northeast, a solid seven miles away.

Once you get out of Powell’s you’ll start running to your car, a smile slowly forming on your face. The address means something, you know it does. It’s specific and inelegant, unlike the other clues. It must be a message, a sign that you’re closing in on the end of your journey.

By the time you get to your car the lunch rush will be in full effect. It’ll take you almost an hour to get across the river, and by the time you get to Northeast you’ll be so turned around you’ll screw up some crucial turns and end up traversing one way streets for some twenty minutes until you finally find your way to the address.

When you get there you’ll see that it’s another book store, this time a much much smaller one. You’ll almost tear the paper in half, but you’ll stop yourself, getting out of the car and walking to the door, legs unsteady with each step like you were just learning how to walk.

When you step inside you’ll be the only customer. A young man will be at the counter, slouched and reading a tattered copy of Les Miserables. He won’t even acknowledge your entrance. He’ll also clearly be gay, what with his Milli Vanilli Tee and highlights.

You’ll feel uncomfortable the moment you step inside, but you’ll feel like you have to see this through. You’ll unfold the paper and put it on the counter, interrupting his reading.

“I found this,” you’ll say.

He won’t listen to you at first, so you’ll slam your first on the table. That’ll get his nose out of the book, so you’ll point at the paper again, this time without saying anything.

The threat of implied violence will get his attention well enough, and he’ll nervously nod his head back over his shoulder to a door marked employees only. After that two of you will resume ignoring each other and you’ll trudge over to the door, paper in hand.

You’ll pause a moment before you open it, heart aflutter. Within will be a small, warmly lit room ringed with book shelves. It’ll feel homey to you, even though you’ve never been there before. Cigarette smoke will hang in the air, even though it’s clear no one’s smoked in here in weeks at least.

The centerpiece of the room will be a young girl lounging in one of two chairs. She’ll be pretty. Very pretty, with a pierced lip and a pierced eyebrow and a pair of fleeting tattoos on her arms that you’ll notice each time she flips a page. Her hair will be carelessly beautiful, as if she’d just rolled out of bed looking like the prettiest girl in the whole world.

You’ll stand there, staring at her speechless, for a full two minutes before she notices you. She’ll smile when she looks up.

“Hi,” she’ll say.

You’ll feel embarrassed once she’s spoken. After all, you didn’t bring anything to read. But by the look on her face you can tell she’s just glad someone came.

Congratulations on sorting out the last piece of the puzzle, you lucky dog you.