“What is that?” said the flight attendant, pointing near the region of my, ahem, crotch.

Startled after a 35,000-foot nap, I snapped my eyes to where she had dared go. Is my fly open?

“Oh, this!” I said, relieved I wasn’t exposed. It was the top half of the book cover, a colorful scene of adults and children sledding. I lifted the seat tray and held up the book resting on my lap. “I’m reading Snow Day by Billy Coffey. It’s his debut novel.”

“I noticed the cover and I love to read. What’s it about?” Continue reading “The End of the Book Voyeur”