It was the last thing Emma
needed right now; more books. She had bookshelf after bookshelf back at home, along with a couple of piles here and there on the floor that wouldn’t fit on said shelves- and, although she’d read most, there were plenty that had yet to be read. But, once again, she found herself in Everbooks browsing the shelves. She just wasn’t.... feeling
any of the books she had, none were jumping out at her right now. Besides, it was her day off and she didn’t want to spend it stuck in her apartment by herself and before she knew it, her feet had bought her here. Again. Reaching up, Emma picked up, ‘My Name is Red’
by Orhan Pamuk, flipped it over and scanned the blurb. This book had been stalking her recently, every time she walked in a bookshop, it was there. Every time she walked in to the library, it was there. Even this morning when she went to get her coffee before she came here there was someone sat at a table, reading it.
It did sound good. But to Emma, the blurb was only a third of buying a book, it was a delicate operation. Opening to the first page, the brunette quickly scanned the opening line. It was an important line, the first, it had to be a good one. “I am nothing but a corpse now, bloody at the bottom of a well.”
Yeah that’ll do it, that’ll intrigue her. The final step, and arguably the most important.
It was one of Emma’s favourite parts of books and literature- the smell of books. She was insistent that ever book smelt differently, even collections of short stories, each one held a different scent. And, when she was reading a book, she always thought the parts she had read, smelt different to what she hadn’t... Okay, so maybe checking a books smell before you buy it was a little
... Odd.. But it’s just what she did. Glancing left. Glancing right. Checking no one was in the aisle to give her a weird look, or tsk or whatever, Em opened the book to a random page and inhaled. Well... That settled it. Resting the novel in the crook of her arm, Emma lifted the cardboard travel cup to lips to drink the coffee within, disappointment clouding her features with the immediate realisation that it was empty inside (damn, she’d been enjoying that) as she moved to a different aisle to see what other treasures she could find.
She had a sickness. She was sure of it, OBBD she called it. Or Obsessive Book Buying Disorder. Every time she came into a bookstore she just had
to buy at least one book, normally two or three. There was really explanation Emma could give, it was sickness, and addiction- and it often wasn’t cheap. But it made her happy, gave her an escape. Green eyes scanned the bookshelf before her, her finger tip dancing across the spines until she came to ’Fifty Shades of Grey’
. Hmm, she’d heard a lot about this recently and it definitely.... intrigued her, grabbing the novel, she flipped it over to read the blurb of this one.