Every Saturday I have a ritual, in which I go to the library used book sale. I always stop first at the science fiction section and see if there is anything by Philip K Dick, who is one of my favorite writers. I haven’t found one in the roughly eight years I’ve been doing this.

This week, for the first time, I took my three year old. I carried him into the store and put him down. He grabbed a board book that was on display. We went to the Science Fiction section. He ran to a random area of the shelf and grabbed a book off the shelf and held it up to me. “Get this one daddy,” he said. “You can read it to me, too. I want this one.” Here’s the book.

I’ve read dozens of his books. This felt like the start of some crazed scene in one of his novels to me. Perhaps the boy was directed there by some outside intelligence. Maybe aliens planted it there. Or another dimension is seeping into ours. Perhaps an unlikely coincidence. I think I’ll be taking the lad again.