Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 7/21

It didn't feel like there was much relief  from the heat when I left the house, despite the cloud cover. The humidity was high. I decided to set up shop, anyway, even though I'd left a bottle of seltzer in the freezer. It seems I'm forgeting at least one thing every day. Scary.
I set up under the tree on Bay Parkway and 85th in case the sun eventually popped out, and I immediately sold Stephen King's Duma Key to a young man carrying a large pizza. There were sporadic sprinkles in the air, but not enough to have me pack up. Miguel showed, fresh from church, prayer book in hand. He posts a lot of Christian-oriented stuff on his Facebook page. A recent one concerned suicide. He got a message from a woman he did not remember befriending, who said the post saved her from doing something really stupid. He got all choked up telling me this. He truly believes God had had him intervene. I told him of the meeting I'd had with Louis Gelormino on that very spot two weeks ago. Crazy Louie, as he was known in his gang days, went on to become a successful lawyer and wrote a memoir, The Gent's Prayer. He also believes God, through certain people, has intervened on his behalf. It must be nice to have such faith. Thanks to Miguel for purchasing Alexander McCall Smith's Morality for Young Girls, a mystery set in Botswana.
The only disappointment of the day was Joann, who has donated so many books to me, not showing up. Lately, several people have asked if I had anything by Cynthia Freeman, who specialized in multi-generational stories about Jews, usually with a female character at the center. She died in 1988. Her books were translated into 33 languages and sold 20 million worldwide. I'd bet Joann has some.
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