This couple came into my shop but they weren’t walking on our earth. It was cold, freezing, but they weren’t cold.
They seemed to tread a path across some other realm of private joy, with all of tomorrow’s ideas.
They sing. Exclaim. They howl with joy. Call out to each other, did you see this, babe?
Do you want that? You should get it! Get it!
They remember yesterday, and the day before.
Look at this. This is great. This is so funny. They look at each other.
She kneels in art, bending over the books with the most tender attitude. He strides around, invincible. They look for each other.
‘When I was a kid, I looked up and up at books on a shelf. Now I’m that height. We’re going to have shelves. I love cats. This is how we’re going to be. Our kids are going to have books.’ They look at each other.
The shelves, the books, everything, leaning forward, listening in astonishment. The windows change colour.
Winter withdraws, a gracious defeat.
The Book Keeper Book Shop 