It was a gloomy, windy, depressing, rainy day last Tuesday. Went out at half past 11 to buy groceries. I’m in a hurry. Needed to eat lunch and prepare so that I can leave the house at 1 then be at work 2pm.
I’m also trying to cut back from my spending so it was quite logical that when I pass by a charity shop, I went in hunting for books to read. What I saw (and bought) actually surprised me:
3 old but obviously not even touched Harry Potter books. They are a batch from the very first reprint (nothing special there) which means they are THAT old.
Why would one buy a book (a good one for that matter), not read it and more than 10 years after give it away to charity? That question puts a lot of scenarios in my head that could be a potential short stories in the future. One of which is an illiterate parent who wants the best for his child. He bought a brand new book that the seller highly recommended. They don’t have much but he bought the book just the same. What happens is the child’s journey of discovering the depth of parental love.
Anyway, not that I’m complaining. I live on my own now and since all my books are at my parent’s place, who are in another country, I’m restarting my library.
‘Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?’
‘That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,’ said the Cat.
‘I don’t much care where – ‘ said Alice
‘Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,’ said the Cat.
Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll