The Count of Monte Cristo

The Count of Monte Cristo  by Alexandre Dumas

1984

Weight: 8.8 oz

Method of Disposal: Leaving Somewhere

I bought and read this book when I was in high school, and I loved it.  I remember that I picked it up and did not put it down until it was over.  I felt like I was in prison with Edmond Dantes  and rejoiced in his escape.  Shit was good.  

I opened it up one last time, to smell it, skim it, say goodbye to it and three items fell out.  One was a business card for Natural Wonders, a store that use to be in Gwinnett Place Mall that I loved as a child.  It was completely animal focused and you could “adopt” tigers, whales, and wolves.  The money went to the WWF, and you received photographs of your new animal.  They had rain sticks and shiny stones.  

The next thing to come out was a picture of a girl I never liked.  Why did I have it?  Why is it in my book?  We imagine we are both totally different people now, but I still had an aversion after all this time.  The last thing was a picture of myself, Noelle, and a guy named Jeff hanging out in my bedroom.  Noelle is hanging off my shoulder, I am spitting on myself (?), and Jeff is wearing my bra and acting like he is going to lick my cheek.  There are Garbage posters in the background, along with numerous photos of a scantily clad Gillian Anderson and a shooting silhouette from the range.  I think I will keep the last picture, but the other items are going to remain with the book until it finds its new owner.