Thursday, April 01, 2004
Wordy Passion...
A sprinkling of stars dusted the nearly black city skyscape as I walked into the shop that lay behind stunningly muralled wall. Though technically too big to be a shop, its cozy atmosphere, with the towering walls of yellowing books and the smiling, helpful owners of varying ages bespoke a genuine love of the written word that was so different from other bookstores I'd walked into over the years. Thereby turning it, in my mind, into a used bookshop of old.
The vaguely musty scent of aging pages was more remembered than experienced, due to the cold clogging up my sinuses, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. Though I had to admit I was somewhat grateful for my impaired sense of smell as I spied the long-haired, fully bearded fellow behind the counter tenderly apply glue to the binding on a time-browned tome.
I strolled purposefully amongst the stacks, searching for a specific book. My hunt was in vain, but it was still a pleasing visit as I passed the tall gentleman leaning over to pet one of the shop's cats, sprawled oh so casually on the well-worn sofa, made comfortable with much use but still retaining a certain bouncy support. My lips quirked upwards as my eyes quickly glanced at the newspaper articles taped to the shelving. Some corners curled inward, the faintly ochre tint testifying to their years spent adorning the wooden sides. All were literary in nature, many of them obituaries for authors long gone. Seeing the obituaries saddened me, but their presence gave further evidence as to the passion the owners had for the product lining the walls and shelves. Once again I mentally kicked myself for the many times I passed the shop on the way home over the years with barely a moment spent inside, at least until recently.
I had to head home, but on my way out, I spied a thick book sitting on the "$2 or Under" table near the front door. Filled with vampire short stories, I thought it would be perfect for Sarriah, to help her with the research for her vampire script, not to mention helping to feed that addiction of hers that I share: the love of most things vampire-related. Besides, how could one go wrong for only $2?
I tucked the book under my arm, shelled out $2.17, then headed home for the evening. Later, as I walked the few blocks from my bus stop to my home, the 600+ page vampire volume feeling strangely light in my hand, my mind was filled with images and words. Words crammed in my head, the purely mental yet almost physical sensation of letters and punctuation spilling out of my ears and eyes thrilled me and energized me, quickening my steps as I yearned to sit in front of my computer and type, type, type as fast as my fingers could follow my thoughts. Type until my nails, my fingerprints wore away, until cramping took over my abused muscles, curling my digits into pseudo-arthritic claws.
G-d, how I love books.
The vaguely musty scent of aging pages was more remembered than experienced, due to the cold clogging up my sinuses, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. Though I had to admit I was somewhat grateful for my impaired sense of smell as I spied the long-haired, fully bearded fellow behind the counter tenderly apply glue to the binding on a time-browned tome.
I strolled purposefully amongst the stacks, searching for a specific book. My hunt was in vain, but it was still a pleasing visit as I passed the tall gentleman leaning over to pet one of the shop's cats, sprawled oh so casually on the well-worn sofa, made comfortable with much use but still retaining a certain bouncy support. My lips quirked upwards as my eyes quickly glanced at the newspaper articles taped to the shelving. Some corners curled inward, the faintly ochre tint testifying to their years spent adorning the wooden sides. All were literary in nature, many of them obituaries for authors long gone. Seeing the obituaries saddened me, but their presence gave further evidence as to the passion the owners had for the product lining the walls and shelves. Once again I mentally kicked myself for the many times I passed the shop on the way home over the years with barely a moment spent inside, at least until recently.
I had to head home, but on my way out, I spied a thick book sitting on the "$2 or Under" table near the front door. Filled with vampire short stories, I thought it would be perfect for Sarriah, to help her with the research for her vampire script, not to mention helping to feed that addiction of hers that I share: the love of most things vampire-related. Besides, how could one go wrong for only $2?
I tucked the book under my arm, shelled out $2.17, then headed home for the evening. Later, as I walked the few blocks from my bus stop to my home, the 600+ page vampire volume feeling strangely light in my hand, my mind was filled with images and words. Words crammed in my head, the purely mental yet almost physical sensation of letters and punctuation spilling out of my ears and eyes thrilled me and energized me, quickening my steps as I yearned to sit in front of my computer and type, type, type as fast as my fingers could follow my thoughts. Type until my nails, my fingerprints wore away, until cramping took over my abused muscles, curling my digits into pseudo-arthritic claws.
G-d, how I love books.
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United States, California, Los Angeles, San Fernando Valley, English, Carol, Female, 36-40.
