Bookstore
Later I found the girl, in the bookstore, quite by accident. I introduced myself and explained how I had found her journal, and read it, but hadn't meant to pry. She was foreign and lovely, with short brown hair and a round face, full of impish intelligence. She had errands and had to leave, but I spent the rest of the dream finding ways to accidentally meet up with her. She always had this beguiling smile, and wasn't that surprised when we kept meeting.
Dreams
Perusing some wall of leather bound journals, notebooks, something I could scribble in faithfully. I picked out a slim tan journal, opened it and liked the paper, but noticed some pages were missing in the middle. I flipped to the end and found page after page of previous entries, mostly poems; I couldn't really understand them. There was a folded piece of paper stuck in a sidepocket, and I opened that too. It was a missive, a letter to someone whom the author, a girl, must have loved.