I’m sitting down in a yellow antique chair with my legs crisscrossed kindergarten style. I’m a little worried someone will come in and get mad that my shoes are touching the butt of the seat, but I also doubt anyone would care. And the only witness to my crime-of-comfortableness is a black cat with green eyes staring into my soul. Maybe I took its spot. There are a couple of cats in the store. It’s kind of the appeal of the store. It’s so relaxed here that they can have animals running around and not care, and even enjoy their presence.
I’m surrounded by walls of books, mainly on entertainment and media. However, the books cover topics as diverse as stand up comedy, anime, guitar, and poetry.
I can hear a man and a woman talking in low voices in another room. Something about the New Testament, then what sounds like German. I’m super nosy and a little disappointed that I can’t follow everything they’re saying.
I hear someone (or a cat?) flipping the page of a book. I love that sound. It makes me feel accomplished. You finished reading a whole page, congrats, you’re reward is getting to flip it. Hmm, such a crisp sound.
There are also crude ventilation tubes sticking out of the walls and ceiling. They’re silver so they give the room a 70s scifi movie vibe. I hear an AC unit in the other room go off and start pumping cold air throughout the book store and a calico cat quietly creeps by the doorway.
The blue carpet that lines the floor is torn-up in white patches. Probably the cats. It starts to get cold as I notice that the book shelves in the room are different sizes and colors, some mahogany, some tan. They give away the fact that it’s a used bookstore. A chain would probably have more uniform shelves.
I love it here. I could stay forever, but I’d probably get lonely. Although I suppose the cats could keep me company.