I wander around aimlessly but yet with a goal in mind. As soon as I walk into the old book store I can smell the pages, the musty scent of years gone by and the stagnant aroma of woody bookshelves. When I see the books stacked upon each other I am excited and I don't know where to start my journey as I know it will be a long one. As I open my first book I hear the sound of the binding crack and from the beginning, I am hooked. It entices me to explore further it's insides. I scan the pages but I'm not quiet sure what I'm looking for but I know what I want. I focus on dates and towns and publishing rights and depending on what I see, I will continue. I will then shift my weight back and forth from leg to leg and I will lean against a wall or find a tolerable spot to plant myself. Mostly it's a biography or historical piece I enjoy or sometimes the subject could be whimsical with it's brightly animated illustrations that depict circus life or Christmas at the turn of the century. There's nothing like an old book store to lose your place in life and wile away the time and at the same time, inter into a world that is so foreign to you but yet very familiar in every way.