Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Longing for a Bookstore

Last week I went to a bookstore for the first time in a long time. I think it was the first time since moving into the new house last May. I just felt this strange need to be surrounded by books that don't belong to me yet. To be surrounded by all their possibilities. Each book a rainbow bridge, ready to take me to the world waiting inside. 

I'd been trying to find my way to a bookstore for nearly a week. Last Saturday I'd been excited to go to my local libraries used book sale, but when I got there, there was no book sale. I'd gotten the dates wrong. So I'd left to go to my old library, that is now a half hour drive away, with its excellent secondhand bookstore. As soon as I turned on the car the 'low fuel' light came on and upon checking my wallet I found I'd left my debit card at home. I went home, got the card, got gas, drove the half hour to the library, and the bookstore was closed. The volunteer who was supposed to work Saturday afternoon didn't show up. I nearly cried. I went home so disappointed. 

On Monday I made the decision to try again. All morning I debated whether I should suck it up and make the hour drive to the nearest Barnes and Noble or try the library again. But I love my secondhand books so I decided to try the library. This time I had both kids with me. I had to warn The Toddler that we were going to the bookstore before the kids area and that she could play after the bookstore. And to my surprise everything worked out this time. 

The Toddler was cooperative. Book Baby slept in the stroller. And I got to browse through the preloved books for nearly an hour. When I left my soul was a little calmer. I only found one book to take home but taking home books wasn't what I needed. It was the hushed presence of all the books, shelves full of friends, and enemies, and possibilities. It was just to feel myself at home with books. 

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