As far as Isaac could remember, the owner of Porter's Used Bookstore always sat at the counter in the back of the shop, writing away in silence. But unusually, there was no one at the counter today.
The shop's door was unlocked, so it seemed unlikely that he was away.
As he made his way toward the back of the shop, Isaac called out, "Porter." The door behind the counter opened, and the owner, Porter, poked his head out.
Porter was normally the sort of man who always had ink stains somewhere on his hands or clothes, but today he was dressed in relatively neat traveling clothes. He was not wearing his glasses, either.
"Excuse me, were you just about to head out?"
"...Ah, it's you."
Porter put on the glasses he had left on the counter and donned the hat he was holding.
"I just finished my manuscript and was on my way to submit it. I was planning to use the payment for a book-buying trip."
"It seems I arrived at the perfect moment—by some miracle."
Porter apparently sometimes stayed away for years at a time, so if Isaac had arrived even one day later, he probably would not have been able to see him for quite a while...
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