for joy ahead

      These books are my mother's.


      And these books were her father's.
      Beautiful, old editions of Shakespeare and Dickens.


      Occasionally I will see a lovely copy of, say, Great Expectations while hunting a bookstore which I will almost, just almost, purchase.


      Standing there, staring at it, turning it over to check the spine, putting it down, wandering the aisles pretending to look but really thinking about it and do I really need it (I didn't know about it before entering and was perfectly happy after all), returning to it, picking it up, standing, staring, turning, checking ... rinse and repeat. This is why I take so long in bookstores!

      Then I remember these will be mine and I put it back down, like pulling magnets apart, until I'm out the door and away, away from the lure of second bananas.