I have been reading more lately and this has had some positive consequences. My commute has become more tolerable and I am feeling a bit like my old self–before I got tired of reading and just wanted to spend my commute time staring out the window.
This afternoon, once work finished, instead of heading straight to the subway, I decided to take a look around the bookstore. I wasn’t intending to buy any books–I’ve got a perfectly good library near home, and a queue of books waiting on my night table–but I just wanted to look around and feel that book environment again. There’s something satisfying about walking around a bookstore that I can’t get in any other store. Sure, I can look around a bicycle store for quite a while. I could probably thumb through some stamps at a stamp store, but it isn’t the same.
There’s something about a bookstore. Perhaps it is the combined weight of all the words and phrases. Perhaps it is the knowledge that something eloquent may be on those pages just below the cover. There’s just so much promise there.
My time at the bookstore was not nearly as long as it could have been. I didn’t want to get caught in rush hour, and I still had Hemingway’s The Dangerous Summer to finish on my way home. I left the bookstore, but since it had been Today’s Perfect Moment, I knew I would be back.