It had been a long while, since I was last in a bookstore.
You know the place, its the building with books on all the shelves, and you walk down the aisles to the category, holding the book you were looking for and from there, you either search for the exact title, or just get lost in the aisles, sometimes sitting on the floor and just reading a book.

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The last time I went into a bookstore, it was during the holidays; We were shopping for a book for a fellow book reader, a family member, but it was the moment when we entered the bookstore, when all the familiar feelings of the smell, the sounds and the look of the bookstore, came rushing back.
Although we knew where we needed to go, it was the draw of all those books, that swept me off the path we needed to go, and like old times, I just wander the aisles, occasionally reaching a hand out to brush the book spines and faces of the books as I walked, really aimlessly, lost in nostalgia, along each aisles.
I breathe in that unique smell of printed paper as I took in the dazzling colors of the different size and shapes of books that were lined up, like puppies and kittens, waiting to be taken home, to be read (not the puppies or kittens) and to be loved and hopefully pass on to the next generation of readers.
Eventually we had to re-orient ourselves and go to the section, we originally had come for, to find the gift that we were going to buy, but my eyes and my heart and my memories still wander up and down the aisles and on occasion a book, even a graphic novel, caught my eye, calling out to be read or browse through and I would stop, grab a book, and finding a comfy corner, sit and read through though not really, and enjoying the feel of the paper turning in my hands.
Here and there, people sat in their chairs and intermingle of young and old, some with laptops amid the traditional paper bound books, some with e-readers and others with a paper bound book, itself; A quiet comradeship united in reading a book.
I think I could spend a whole day there and be lost amid the endless adventures that the books offered and for that moment, remembering, going to a bookstore, both used and old and discovering new friends among old friends.
Its fun, yes, to get a book by mail, the expected package waiting at the door or in the mailbox and neat that we can just instantly get the book, right then and there on our e-readers, but nothing…really, can replace the adventure, the quiet wandering, going up and down in a bookstore, among the treasure trove of books to be read and to be discover like a pirate’s bounty.

Soon, we had to go pay for our gift and we left, the treasure box of books, soon becoming a distant memory again that day as we head off to other places we needed to go; I promised to return, but in today’s age, haven’t been back since that day, for the holidays, we went to the bookstore to get a book.
Soon, very soon, I need to go back; Buy something to drink as I wander again down the aisles; Something new is always good, but something old is alright too.
Its too easy to get so caught up with shiny new things, that we forget to also treasure the simple nostalgia that seem to make time just a little slower and a little sweeter…..
How about you? Love to hear your sweet memories and treasures of going to a book store!
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