The Comforts of Home

There is a cocoon of clouds around the city this morning. Gray fog sits watching all of the cars, slow and fast, make their way to work. It looks like winter, but feels like fall; and I like it. I stopped in at the Starbucks across the street from my office, which happens to be attached to a bookstore. I was pleasantly surprised to find that, not only was the shop not busy, but they still had several packs of my favorite snack, the "Power Protein Pack" or something like that. I ordered my coffee, which I was not really wanting, but how can you go into Starbucks and NOT get a coffee. So, while I was waiting for my brew, I happened to glance over at the bookmarks rounder, and felt an instant kind of comfort. Like the comfort you feel when you have been away from home for too long, or like realizing your love for something all over again. To me, bookstores, libraries, they are like preschool. You know the bookstore is not your home, but it still has all of the emotional comforts of home surrounding you. I think it is so sad that some people just do not read. How can you not love to read? In a story, so so many more things can happen because they take place in your imagination, and what's more, every story is different to every reader. I do not think it is important to read what other people think is great, I think it is important to read what you think is great. So, if you love serial romances, then go on and read them, or trashy mysteries, do not be embarrassed. After all, someone out there took the time and energy to create that story and it deserves to be loved.