Books and love

I just sent in a story and am feeling very accomplished and happy with myself. Now I shall do nothing for the next couple of days. What a hectic and stressful life I lead!

Serendipitiously, I got a book I had been dying to read delivered today via Flipkart. Is there anything more satisfying than getting new books? Whenever I get a new book I have to write my name, date and where I got it from on the first page. Growing up, I saw my father always doing the same and I guess I picked up the habit from him.

Even now when I open any of his books to read I find his name, date and place where he bought the book from neatly printed. I remember reading ‘Pride and Prejudice’ when I was 16 years old, it was a red leatherbound book with gold etching and was part of a set my father had bought from a bookstore in Parasia. I don’t know if he has read all the books he bought but we, his children, have pulled them out, read them and not treated them with as much care as we should have.

Now that I am older I have become more gentle and careful with books. I love looking at my shelves of books, most read, some waiting to be read. I cannot leave a bookstore without buying at least one book. I told my husband if we ever become very rich and have tons of money, he should be prepared that I will probably spend it all away on books.

I spend a lot of time alone but I never have feel lonely because my books provide me with all the company I need. How could I not love them, when they give me so much?

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