The Lost Bookshop

by Evie Woods

A good story always begins with tea.’

What such a european tbingv to say haha.

He always said that books were more than words on paper; they were portals to other places, other lives.

A book is like halloween. Other than dressing up, you step inside the life of whoever you want. You live the adventure, feel the romance, and slave the giants. The mind is a magical place, we all should explore it sometimes!

The whole effect was like that of an angel fallen on hard times.

I preferred to read people. People were easier than books.

I couldn’t explain it, not even to myself, but books gave me an unflinching sense of stability and groundedness. That’s because words survived, somehow I would too.

Words survived , somehow she knew he would too! What a sentence!

I had fallen in love with him like falling down a flight of stairs, and it hurt every bit as much.

What a way to describe it!

‘He used to say that he would like people to open this door in the way they would open a book, entering a world beyond their imaginings.’

It frightened and fascinated me in equal measure, like standing too close to a flame and hoping that I would not be consumed by its heat.

if you’re not scared, then you’re not living.’

We collided as if our lives depended on it. He swept me up in his arms and kissed me in a way that held nothing back. My entire life focused down to this point – like adjusting the lens of a microscope to find the one thing that matters most. Love.

‘There’s something I never told you,’ I said. ‘Oh God, you’re not engaged to somebody else, are you?’ ‘Very funny. I’ll engage you in a minute if you’re not careful.’ ‘If you’re not careful, I might say yes.’ ‘Did we just get married?’ She laughed a little hoarsely, directly into my ear, which was ridiculously sexy.

Yea, that is a pocture perfect scenario in my hopeless romantic world.