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| Annual November read |
She was at a book shop last week at the airport. Surrounded by piles and piles of books. She felt like she was in a maze of books. Some of the towers were actually taller than her (which isn't saying much), but still.
She looked around in confusion, wanting to pick up this and that and a lot more. Then she did what she always did - she picked up a book, read the synopsis, and then she judged it... by its smell. She did that with books. Picked them up, opened a random page and breathed them in. Sure, people gave her dirty looks but she didn't care. The smell of new books in a book store was earthy, but unequivocal. She knew if she would like a book just by its smell.
Sometimes she also judged a book by its cover... its colour, and ever so often, by its name.
