He wandered, not even really aware of which direction he was heading. Randomly he’d pick up a book because of the cover, glance at the back, and then return it to its proper place on the shelf. It was the act he needed right that moment, the grounding he always found inside, not an actual book to pass the time. He wound up with two anyway, political crime thrillers that sounded like excellent escapism. He was still looking for more when his phone beeped at him. Jordan glanced at the screen and realized it was after seven and his brother was asking when he’d be home.
With a nearly silent sigh, Jordan responded that he was on his way, purchased the books he didn’t know when he’d have time to read, and headed back to his car. Minutes later he was back on the road, driving farther southeast toward his brother’s.