Caught Stealing

When I was eleven, the owner of the local second-hand bookstore caught me stuffing a paperback science fiction novel into the inside pocket of my coat. He made me wait by the counter while he fetched my dad, who was browsing the history section. Dad apologized, paid for the book, and marched me out the car.

When I said I was sorry, he asked me if I’d have confessed and given the book back if I hadn’t been caught. When I said, “Probably not,” he said, “Then you’re not really sorry, are you? You’re just afraid there will be consequences. It’s not the same thing.”

Time to make another cup of tea. If you came in peace, be welcome.