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Reader, brace yourself, because what follows is a listing of such incandescent splendor that lesser classifieds have wilted in its presence.

I offer you the iPad Mini, Sixth of its Noble Line — a scintillating slab of aluminum and glass, machined by the finest artisans of Cupertino and polished to a luster so dazzling that small woodland creatures have been known to weep openly upon seeing it. Sixty-four gigabytes of capacious, cavernous, altogether opulent storage await your photographs, your novels, your ill-advised 2 a.m. purchases. Wi-Fi coursing through its very veins.

On its condition: Immaculate. Pristine. Unblemished as freshly fallen snow on an untouched alpine meadow. Not one scratch. Not one scuff. Not one solitary blemish to mar its gleaming countenance. It has been cherished, coddled, and treated with a reverence normally reserved for museum artifacts and championship trophies.

And it does not arrive alone! Included in this magnificent bounty:

• The original box, that sacred vessel, preserved in all its geometric glory
• The power adapter, faithful conduit of the lightning itself
• The cable, sinuous and supple, ready to nourish your new companion

The price? A mere $310 — a sum so modest, so shockingly reasonable, that I have been advised by three separate financial professionals to reconsider. I have not reconsidered. I am, apparently, a philanthropist.

Serious inquiries only. Dreamers welcome. Poets encouraged.