On Loan

In the library there was a book no one could ever check out: every time someone asked for it, the librarian said it was already on loan.

I insisted for months. One day, fed up, he told me the truth: I was the one who had the book. According to the register, I had returned it forty years from now.

On the card, in a shaky hand that was mine but older, there was a note: «Don't read it yet.»