Literary Breadcrumbs

I am currently reading The Names by Don DeLillo. My copy is an old used paperback I bought online several years ago and have toted around unread and abused. The cover and the first several dozen pages have fallen off since I began reading it. I like the idea of the pages of a book falling like petals behind me on the subway or discreetly (and discretely) in bathroom stalls as I read. Or maybe more like literary breadcrumbs, swallowed up by the creatures of the forest and obscuring the path back to where I began. I'm not literally abandoning the pages, this city has enough litter, but I like the idea anyway. It also makes me read with greater frequency, struggling to keep ahead of the wake of abatement.