It’s been interesting to walk around a bookstore this afternoon, as when I went to such places in the past, things were completely different. What once felt like a chapel, a holy treasure trove of innumerable stories, it was now just a suffocating place seemingly cordoned off with sharp sticks to warn anyone passing by that it will defend itself. It should defend itself against the winds of change that threaten it’s little light. Between the shelves, a lonely employee followed me as though I would inexplicably set the place ablaze. The titles that I had in mind were difficult to locate, unlike my kindle where I can find a book in a matter of seconds, and that was if the store carried them at all. So archaic was the place that it’s dust and lighting reminded me of an ancient temple that Indiana Jones would explore, and that is the very reason why I loved it.