Love Letters Lost in Literature

Someone Will Remember

34 years is not a lot of time, but the world can change so much in 34 years.

I love how used bookstores have cats like guardians of knowledge and more books littering the floors than shelves.

I love how the Dewey Decimal System is the expectation but not the actualization for organization of this literary station.

I love the smell of the books, rumpled pages and torn covers and frail bindings that will fade if you stare at it too long.

Often the price tag is handwritten on the first page, every number organic and iconic— and sometimes we get notes.

From past owners and lovers and family:

“Take care.”

“We love you.”

“Wish you all the best.”

Books turned into greeting cards turned into paperweights turned into trash turned into a space at a used bookstore.

There is history in these faded pages. Yellowed bindings and chalky residue that float into the air like some sort of Pixie Dust where faith and trust is not enough.

Pick up a book. Shake off the dust. Watch as it swirls into the late afternoon sunlight peeking in through a window.

Look up and realize that at some point in time, someone else did the exact same thing and you are connected by the pages bound in your hands.