Bookstore Jonesing

Emily's Used Books, Brainerd, MN

I am a victim of an infliction called “bookstore jonesing.”

I open the door and the aroma grips me first, sinking its papercut teeth into my nostrils. I willingly give myself to the musty, pulpy fragrance. I inhale like a stoner taking a hit. 

I am hooked.

There is nothing like the scent of my local used bookstore. Once lured inside, my senses become a mushy, short circuited knot. 

I lose myself in canyons of classics and I scale ravines of fiction. I bathe in the Sea of Forewords and plod through the Desert of Afterwords, while every syllable of every story whispers from the walls like stains heard but unseen.

Fluorescent glare guides me and skinny aisles beg me, stay for just a little longer.

Warning: this humble store is a black hole. Once its gravitational force sucks you in, you are an addict for life.

Ain’t it great?