The Building That Kept Thinking About You

This book is out of print. Harold has three copies. He is selling one. He will not sell the other two. He has been asked about this and says only that some books are not for sale, they are for keeping, and that keeping a book is a different relationship than selling it.

The narrator is a building. It does not know what kind of building it is — this is established on the first page and not resolved. It knows it has rooms. It knows people enter and leave. It has been watching one person in particular, and the book is addressed to that person.

The identity of the author has been the subject of sustained speculation since the book's publication in a limited run of 300 copies in 1987. Seventeen theories have been proposed. Harold knows which one is correct. He will not say.

'You came here once,' the building says on the first page. 'You left something. You have not come back for it. This is either because you forgot, or because you left it on purpose. I have been thinking about which.'