You can’t have everything. I mean, where would you put it.

Steven Wright

The gravity of my enthusiastically growing book collection occasionally weighs me down. However, it is not chronic. All I have to do is bump into a book on my way home (not so literally, of course, because I have to go into one or two bookshops – preferably with used copies), and just like that, I feel instantly lighter, like gliding on the wings of joy.

Consequently, the floor in my home is loaded with piles of my considerable collection (the shelves are already full, dah). Despite the fact I’m slowly aware of this, I’m still bringing – nearly every day – another one, approximately new volume to my stack.
Even my family’s visit to the local observatory didn’t spare me from my maniacal urgency of getting a book. Amused by this possibility, I bought four worn items from the box with the ‘donated books for sale’. Although my relatives accepted my thirst for literature, they rolled their eyes with disbelief (which I completely understand). Nevertheless, I ignored it and concentrated on my new investment on our way home.

Yes… This is it. I’m addicted. For the book that captures my eye, I’m capable of jumping over an old lady (they are not that tall) or pushing in front of the line (the second is more realistic, sorry for my enormous imagination). All culminating in an escape like Daniel Craig in James Bond. You never know if some individual catches my prey first, and then I can’t sleep at night!

Recently, my ‘other half’ informed me that the consequences of my fascination are inadequate to the amount of available space in our family nest (I’m not sure what he implied. I can see a lot of free space. Under the bed, for example). Even so, he handed me The autobiography of Martin Luther King Jr., edited by Clayborne Carson. I couldn’t help but applaud until tears of happiness drained away. The problem of insufficient room exists. However, bringing another book home is like honey to my heart. Right, that honey is more for sore throat. Nevertheless, that is a similar sensation. Like a warm feeling of bliss.

Yours L.