Later, I drove to a second-hand bookstore and found a copy of Nausea, by Jean-Paul Sartre. Though when I say I “found a copy” I don’t mean I was looking for one in particular, or that I’d been thinking about it, but only that I happened to come across it while browsing, and decided to buy it. Because it was only a dollar and because, as well, I don’t know what happened to the copy I once had.