The Last Bookshop in London

by Madeline Martin

“Reading is...” His brows knit together and then his forehead smoothed as the right words appeared to dawn on him. “It’s going somewhere without ever taking a train or ship, an unveiling of new, incredible worlds. It’s living a life you weren’t born into and a chance to see everything colored by someone else’s perspective. It’s learning without having to face consequences of failures, and how best to succeed.”

“I think within all of us, there is a void, a gap waiting to be filled by something. For me, that something is books and all their proffered experiences.”

“It is the duty of the rest of the world to ensure they will never be silenced.” He tapped a yellow spine with Almansor in gilt at its top. “‘Where they burn books, they will ultimately burn people as well.’

Deeper still was the profound understanding for mankind as she lived in the minds of the characters. Over time, she had found such perspectives made her a more patient person, more accepting of others. If everyone had such an appreciation for their fellow man, perhaps things such as war would not exist.

“I was in the Great War,” he said as she wiped at her eyes with a handkerchief. “You never forget, but it becomes part of you. Like a scar no one can see.”

“Do you not see? God is punishing me.” “Are you truly so arrogant to assume that God would have London bombed just to take a jab at you for a selfish act?” Mrs. Weatherford heaved a sigh. “Mrs. Nesbitt, I suggest you put some sense into your head and take advantage of a good offer when it’s sent your way.”

“Books are what have brought us together. A love of the stories within, the adventures they take us on, their glorious distraction in a time of strife. And a reminder that we always have hope.”