Books and doors are the same thing. You open them, and you go through into another world.
Today, I read. For hours. And it felt pretty darn good.
I remember the day like it was yesterday. Well, there are two ocassions. One was when I was about seven or eight. I was living in Paris, France at the time. My dad had some errands to run downtown. I remember coming across a bookstore and begged for us to go inside. Once in the bookstore, I came across a book that I couldn’t let go of so my dad purchased it for me. I carried that book with me everywhere. I read that story over and over again. Then one day, I couldn’t find this precious book of mine. I searched everywhere, but never found it. I cried about it and pouted, but it didn’t bring the book…
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