Mondays.

You know what are awesome? Books.
You know what else is awesome? Thrift stores.
You know what trumps awesome? An armload of wonderful books from a thrift store setting me back less then four dollars.


I love used books. New ones, with their crisp edges and sharp print and unbroken spines are all very good. They do hold stories, after all, the best of all things.

But nothing will replace the romance of a used book for me, the spine bent back to favorite scenes, mysterious notes in the margins, inscriptions on the front page, birthday gifts, tolkens of esteem long sense past.
Who owned this? What did they think of it? Will I like it too?
Even if the reader before me was unambitious, and like me left no notes, I know someone else has turned the pages, and that makes the story something that has been shared.