My husband and I popped into a local bookstore today – he to buy art supplies, I to spend my woefully insufficient $25 gift card from last year. The place was a paradise. If the world ever ends, I plan to hole up in a huge public library or, if those are all overrun with demon spawn, the bookshop. I could easily have spent hours browsing, but right away three books jumped out at me. I greedily gathered them up, breathing in that special smell of new paper and ink, feeling them crease as I bent the hardback covers to read the inside flap. There is an illicit pleasure in being the first to deflower a new book. Used books have soul, but new ones have that crisp allure of the untouched.
So forgive me, friends, if I’m not online much for the next several days. I’ll be reading!