"My dad and I started a round of choreography. I would tell him I liked the book, and my dad would ask me if I wanted it. In the most innocent, nonchalant voice a ten-year-old could muster, I would say, 'Yes, please.' My dad would then start walking towards the counter to check out. The sun would hit my face as the automatic doors opened, and I would walk out feeling like I’d cast a spell or performed a trick with my black and white plastic bag swaying in the wind."