| Current mood: |  contemplative |
I love used books.
There's something about used paperbacks that I really like. There's a personal history to them that always affects me. I wonder if the previous owner liked or disliked the book, if they devoured it in an afternoon or read it over weeks, if they live nearby or thousands of miles away, if it's had a single previous owner or many. I own countless classic Asimovs, Clarkes and Nivens that were printed well before I was born.
In a book I started reading today, I found a restaurant receipt from Lynchburg, Tennessee dated in 1994. Apparently it was used as a bookmark. Now I'm using it for the same purpose. It's such a mundane thing, but I feel like there's some history behind it that you can touch. Sometimes the smallest things have the most interesting stories. Or, at least, I can imagine that they do.
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ducttapeavenger) wrote,
