betty goes to the museum - 12. novel #4 and novel #5

part twelve of thirteen

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as betty sipped her tea and chewed on her sandwich, a man and then a woman came into the cafeteria holding dripping wet umbrellas., so she deduced it was still raining heavily outside. she eyed novel #4 and novel #5 and wondered if they were as stupid and boring as the first three. probably, she thought, there was a reason someone had left them behind. succumbing to her mild curiosity, she picked up novel # 4 and opened it. it began… iimtgeo0975 4fbp642kiol mre9765cv-432ql9glopt rew0987 nmvbed cloievtfewsaxrpl mut430nbe6loh gt0oppuyytwq34 0mnb6vcdd xiktredwg ,krvewdo iytr 9 kytr =kliyrqqas lotyr33329op okmuyrvdklpitecb lohytb bm06reqikg recuimplmj ytrdcvew qs762cbji 97j,lptr3… and seemed to go on like that for 675 pages. only novel #5 was left at the table. betty could not remember if the bookshelf in the break room had held more. a novel #6, #7, etc. she picked up novel #5. i bet i can guess, she thought, what it is. it will be either a single letter or number repeated endlessly, or it will be completely blank. it was completely blank. at least, thought betty, it really is blank, and does not have a note or preface explaining that it is forcing the reader to confront the emptiness of the universe, or of their brain, etc. i should be a conceptual artist myself, she thought. * betty decided she had had enough of the museum, and wanted to get back to her apartment in time to watch the third rock rerun which was always on at 6:30. it was still raining outside, but not so hard as before, and she went home. appendix - overview