Cherished books make their journey onto overcrowded shelves. A new home amongst many pages. Books greet each other as old friends. They reminisce of where they’ve been and who they’ve met. The marvel of their covers.The quality of their content. Look at me, look at me, look at me!
Yet their stories ring out with false bravado. For they are now here amongst many. Boxed up and moved on. Their acclaim is now old with dusty jackets speaking of the past. Redundant.
There is a sadness here. Sadness in the face of the owner who can’t bear to part with the treasure of the words contained. The time has now come. They need to make room. Giving in. Making space. Moving on.
I love vintage
You read your books on a Kindle these days. You can’t justify the space for anything else. Well there might be the odd exception. That pokey secondhand bookshop. The bookshop makes you feel alive. You love to trawl through it’s many shelves. Its something that you can’t quite put your finger on. Its got to be old. Old and yellowing on the edges. Bent pages where a bookmark went missing. It’s vintage. You have a connection with those that have read the book before you. It’s kind of like a chocolate fix.
You think he has read every book that has ever made it’s way there. He knows otherwise. The shopkeeper smiles as he watches you pulling out the old books. He knows you well. Each time you pass you can’t help yourself. Your back time and again as you devour each choice. He just points you in the right direction.
by Dezzie Grant 2022
I wrote this based on a friend sharing their love of secondhand books. She says that even though she doesn’t really have the space at home she loves to buy them, especially if the pages make it feel vintage. She was sharing about how when she was a kid she loved to visit the second hand bookshop near where she lived. This story has 4 characters. The books. The original owner of the books. The person that likes secondhand books and the shop owner.