O

ne of my

favorite things to do:

Walk into a used book store for the very first time. Feel myself drawn into the dark, holy silence of muffled pages turning and words humming. Breathe in the earthy, fermented air of leather bindings, yellowed paper, and comfortable dust.

Walk among the infinite words, thoughts, emotions, and memories and wrap my arms around the ones that call to me. Touch the aging spines, peer at the insistent, mute words sprawled across every page. Bring them into my own life.

Continue the great chain of books.