Head First

I finished the last Harry Potter book at 11:45 this morning. It took me less than eleven hours total to devour and, I thought, tied up the series very well. But then I had to face the anticlimax, to look up again and discover that I was back in the real world, in the humid break room where the new white cinder block walls are already yellowing from cigarette smoke, and under the window sample bottles are stacked in coolers, taped shut for shipping.

Only in that first brief moment when I've dragged myself back up from a good story am I disappointed with my otherwise charmed life.