book shoppe

calloused pads thumb over letterings impressioned the hard spines facing outwards, meticulously aligned on the wooden shelves that tower over him, a faint scent of touchwood polish still lingers in the air interwoven with the smell of books. the quietude settled inside the quaint bookstore, cocooned him in its tranquility despite his inherent companionable disposition.

finally,
his curious fingers halt over a book. tipping it forward, before plucking it out, creating a gap in the alignment, as the books collapsed against each other to fill the space. silence punctuated by the sound of flipping pages, as he began his journey, albeit a very brief one, for he only read the prologue. just a little preview before his re-embarked, in a voyage of masterful storytelling and colourful words captured in the black garamond font.