Bookish or mousy...
Soon enough I'll be stomping around the countryside with some peeps. And it will be good. Feels like I haven't been still in ages, in one place, breathing one big stretch of air. Of course I'll get sick of it soon enough, but for now I can pretend it's all I've ever wanted.
I was in a bookstore in, a small one, old, that looks and smells and feels like it knows about books, or wants you to think so. The kind that hides in anything pretending to be a bigger town. So you figure they know what you want when you ask for books on roma/gypsies, and old travel literature. Instead I got an almost blank stare, and pointed to a section to fend for myself. Maybe that's part of the charm of the place. Like the fancy restaurants people go to because they want the waiter to be an asshole. I wasn't interested enough to hunt things down in the end.
The mouse was much more interesting. Little brown guy peeking through holes in the floor, minding his own business. Didn't know he was going to become part of my city mouse/country mouse/Stuart Little fantasy. I saw him in his little holes, with his mouse family running his mouse-errands around the store, and then maybe he's on holiday in Aix... I may have to go back ad ask him his name, just in case I meet his cousin or something.
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sarahsmiles) wrote,
