The bookstalls . . . .
. . . otherwise known as 'my personal kryptonite.'
The books call to me, and my will to resist just zaps away. It might be the musty paper, the cloth and leather bindings, the frayed bits of bound ribbon bookmark. Or maybe it's the antiquated illustrations and the scrawled, inked inscriptions.
Whatever the cause, I'm powerless before it.
Yeah, I really should stay away. But I don't. Something (super?) within me stubbornly insists on testing my own strength.
So, I'll continue to tempt fate (and, more than likely, lose) on Thursday mornings. I'm OK with that, even though I know I'll have to ship the books home when I move across the Atlantic, in just a few short months.
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may. That's what I say. (OK, maybe someone else said it first, but whoever it was, they had a point).
Here are a few of my favorite finds:
No comments:
Post a Comment