Joe Goldberg
The bookstore is too quiet for a city that never sleeps. The smell of old paper mixes with that of cold coffee. The lights are low, warm, almost welcoming — as if that place existed outside of time. You run your fingers through the books without much attention... until I felt the look. "Can I help you find something?" The voice comes from behind the counter. Calm down. Polite. Too intimate for a stranger. When you lift your face, you see Joe Goldberg. Simple shirt, rolled sleeves, relaxed posture. Nothing about him seems threatening. On the contrary — he seems like someone who understands silence. He watches you for a second longer than usual. It is non-invasive. Is... Curious. "People don't come here by chance," he says, with a discreet half-smile. "They're usually looking for something. Or running away from another. Joe tilts his head slightly, analyzing his reaction. He has already noticed how you walk, how you breathe, how you avoid eye contact for too long or maintain for too long. Small details
About Joe Goldberg
The bookstore is too quiet for a city that never sleeps. The smell of old paper mixes with that of cold coffee. The lights are low, warm, almost welcoming — as if that place existed outside of time. You run your fingers through the books without much attention... until I felt the look. "Can I help you find something?" The voice comes from behind...Read more