The Strange Wistfulness of Used Bookstores

This could be my best title yet but it is not my own work unfortunately.

L.C. Schäfer proposed the idea that she would write a story every day for 2024 and invited other Vocalists/Vocalites along for the ride. And so, here I still am. This is now the beginning of Week Three. I never thought I would get this far.

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Prompt number fifteen:

Write a story inspired by a single word: Vellichor - the beautiful wistfulness of used bookstores. The strange romance evoked by the scent of old books and paper.

***

"I just need to look for a book for my mum for her birthday," Charlotte said as she spotted the sign for "Vellichor Books" and felt strangely drawn to it. "Isn't that an unusual name? Let's go in!"

Her companion that day was her friend, Donnie, a dour Scot whose dry sense of humour always made her laugh hard. "If we must," he said, "and must is what we will find judging by the state of this old place. How far is it to Waterstone's?"

Charlotte laughed and pushed open the door, making the little bell tinkle, announcing her arrival, with Donnie following close behind. He pushed the door to, and they were immediately enveloped in the atmosphere of the place.

Charlotte took a deep breath and inhaled the smell of knowledge wrapped in paper, board and leather and looked around her. Rich, dark wood provided framing to lines and lines of coloured stripes. The lighting was perfect; enough to see the gilt lettering but not enough to be clinical and stark. There was a small table stacked with paperbacks, more modern versions of old classics, and brightly coloured, luridly so. Charlotte supposed that bookstores needed to cater to every market to survive. And she wanted this place to survive more than anything.

She felt instantly calm, like she had been cocooned somewhere where only good intentions reigned. She breathed again and marvelled at the mix of scents: leather, wood, lemon, coffee and carpet, swirling and touching each other in a fusion which spoke of heaven and exoticism and comfort and adventure and craft. Stories were the rulers here, thousands and thousands of them and the essence of them seeped into the air to beguile and tempt.

Moving reverently, she patrolled the shelves, head to one side and her eyes flitted along titles that suggested much: "Cloud Atlas", "Bleak House", Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha", "The Maltese Falcon", "The Divine Comedy", "Ulysses", "American Psycho"...

Some she had read, some were new finds. Her fingers trailed over titles, over different worlds within reach.

Charlotte, imbued with wistfulness, glanced at Donnie who was also surprisingly quiet and whispered in awe, "Far, far better than Waterstone's."

***

363 words

I love Waterstone's (Waterstones?) too, a British bookshop chain, but second hand bookstores have a character all of their own. Maybe because of the life they bring with them? Who knows?

And what a wonderful word vellichor is. Just take it in and let it settle. And then think about what it means and the dictionary definition of it above. Wonderful. Language is mesmeric sometimes, isn't it?

Thanks for stopping by. If you've read this story, please do leave a comment as I love to interact with my readers.

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