s.b

the smell of ink and paper that emanates from them books, no - not those books of whity white glossy super quality paper, but them coarse papered books, on which when you write with a good 2B pencil, the tip not so sharp, not so blunt, you can see the little grains of graphite patterns that make the curve of the letters written, or when written with a fountain pen, the ink spreads a little along them little lines making writing a little difficult, those papered books, the nicey paperish inkish smell move you to another world, how intoxicating, filling the entire book shop, make you decide to quit everything you do and to find a job in the book shop, if not for the pleasure of reading as much as one wants to, at least for breathing in the booky scent all your life; and their weird looks at you with your nose into the book, no not touching the pages, but at a safe distance - they matter no more when you try deciding on the books to purchase by the way they smell, by them things written on the outer cover, and by that little tag below where are scribbled some numbers