After watching Sunshine
(which you absolutely have to see on the most massive
screen possible, by the way, so don't even think about
waiting for the DVD) at the Cumberland we strolled down
Street and ended up in a fantastic used bookstore.
Bookshop is a wonderful place to lose track of time,
three floors of cheap books crammed together in tall
wooden shelving units (complete with sliding ladders
and numerous step stools to make top shelves accessible).
I wandered around for what I later realized was hours,
alternately picking up novels by Jane
Carol Oates, Maya
Hornby and so on and so on.
Really, I shouldn't buy anymore books.
I have nowhere left to put them and sections of our
apartment already resemble the below but Eliot's was
so convincing in its love for the written word that
I couldn't resist.
In the end I restricted myself to a
single novel but I'll definitely be back. The chief
pleasure of secondhand bookstores is never knowing
what treasure you'll stumble across and the fun comes
from searching as much it does finding.
Index | Current