Sun came up through my hands
While the overall situation of my life remains intensely stressful, this evening I visited Porter Square Books to pick up my months-awaited copy of M. John Harrison's The Sunken Land Begins to Rise Again (2020) and there met
spatch who, finding himself in a bookstore for the first time in more than two years, first collected Susan Fleming Marx's Speaking of Harpo (2022) and then presented me with Alan Cumming's Baggage: Tales from a Fully Packed Life (2019) and a small molded rubber leucistic axolotl. Also I got soft-serve ice cream earlier in the afternoon and ordered a small, but received a sort of medium large, which became lunch.
selkie is shipping me a book. I miss my library more than I miss my furniture, but these things are not terrible.
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This one also requests its customers wear masks. It can't be enforced, because the city binned its mask mandate months ago, but the majority of the customers comply and it meant I did not feel moronically suicidal spending five minutes inside, which I hope was accurate.
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I was last inside a bookstore last year!
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Thank you! I am enjoying the books and the axolotl is sitting next to my computer.
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It was not accident, but it was not expected that he should be able to meet me there, which made it really nice.
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It is a small local one! I am in favor of its survival!