Forever After Books closed up shop without warning. Although there was a sign, hurriedly written in marker on cardboard, in the window one day with a notice of “a 25% off sale,” few saw it, or realized its import – another closed book store. With its unique mélange of shelf and sheaf, bound together with a bossy list of nonsense rules – hand scrawled signs warning of the dire results of photography and sneezing. Or their punishing reprimands delivered in barked rudeness for any customer asking the wrong question. But we loved ‘em.

The odd couple who ruled this bookstore-from-Hades, have relocated to Albert, CA, where, so they said, they don’t expect to sell many books.

Not a soul knew they were leaving. It seemed strange, what with them moving in the middle of the night, like, with none of the books in boxes. It was backanfo’ fo, backanfo’ fo three days. They had three vans lined up.

I’ll miss ’em. As they left there was much idle debate amongst us village-gossips about the relationship between the two principals. There was speculation as to how they met, was it a chance meeting? Was she the landlord’s daughter and was he from the street? Or was it a Craig’s List romance? Both were renowned for their amusingly grouchy behavior. It was a real book mystery. Some said they were…

As for the reasons for their removal to the Sierra, I think the simple reason is that her dad sold the building to a nephew of a local equity guy and they had to go, so they moved to Albert, Ca. The guy who now owns it is the nephew of the guy who owns the building on the corner of Haight and Masonic, you know, that garish place with the Playland inspired pillars with the bulging entasis and the store, Positively Haight, with the beautiful Buddha in the window. The nephew is now doing massive reconstruction in what was the book-store, big boards and timber arrive, volcanic red cinder chips arrive for the garden, he has ideas to profit from improvement, no doubt. Today they were moving a lot of dirt in small black plastic bags tied with string. We’ll miss the bookstore.