I would like to know what The Rules are.
I want a big book that smells of importance.
So that I can leave it on the shelf and show people that I, this guy, knows The Rules.
The Rules are important. That's what They say. They say that once you know The Rules,
you'll be:
faster,
hotter,
stronger,
vegan,
an expectant mother who will definitely be doing a natural birth because The Rules said so.
But mostly I'll just look up The Rules.
Because there are so many and I might forget.

I would like to know The Rules.
I would like to carry them with me in a big leather satchel.
The ones with the clasp that seems hard to tie but you know that the Clasp Tie-r is the kind of person who values the small moments like that.
The moments of Clasp Tieing.

I would open The Rules on big occasions. Like when I'm in line for coffee and spacetime expands.
And expands.
And expands.
And the bigness of it all hits you right in the face.
When what you thought you wanted was a double espresso and maybe one of those blueberry scones, please.
But standing there, with the bigness of it all, you just want comfort.

And so you open them.
The Rules.
The ones you so desperately yearned for, craved and constructed.
That day you left the coffee shop.
And the line.
And the bigness of it all.

And as he watched you go through the afternoon sun, he thought:
that guy, he knows The Rules.