To my Dear Bookstore

My dear bookstore

I feel the most relaxed,

When I vanish into the sea of shoulder-high shelves,

Bathe in the scent of fresh ink and crisp paper

and drown in the waves as I flip the pages of your books.

My dear bookstore

I feel the most joyful,

When you take me on a million quests in a million macrocosms.

All of them unique.

All of them remarkable.

Where everything and anything is possible.

Where no anxiety nor depression can find me.

My dear bookstore

I feel the least lonely,

When I can hear and see those accompanying me on this journey.

Like the people in line to receive a signed copy from their favorite author.

Or the excited, silent scream of a teen,

Finding the last copy of the book she has been searching for.

Or the group of elderly people sitting in cozy chairs,

exchanging mischievous looks,

As they silently flip through the pages of a spicy novel.

Or the man ready to set sails in search of his dreams in the business aisle.

My dear bookstore

Thank you for all that you do

And for constantly feeding my curious mind.