In the subway this morning, on a train in the city, I took an unobtrusive photo of a man sitting across from me reading a novel by the crime writer Tana French, and sent it to A., with the caption “Nice”. Because A. herself likes that author’s books, and has read many of them. So that whenever I see one of them now, when I’m in a bookstore or a library, or someplace else, I think of A., if I’m not already thinking of her, and text her something about it. Because she finds it funny, as I do.