The midnight bookstore

As so many people do, I romanticise bookstores, libraries, and anything of the likes. There where the endless possibilities of new books, not-yet-read stories, unexplored universes, worlds, people are. Basically, anything that can be created by a sequence of letters, it’s there and I’m over-romanticising it, and I love it. One can easily understand my attraction to the bookstore that’s opened until midnight every working day.

It was the same day as I found out these opening times that I decided to drop by at 11 pm, just because I could, and I did actually needed a new book to read (moving counties only allows you to bring so many of your own books, but on the bright side it does give you a good reason to buy new ones). As I was browsing through their English literature section, I overheard a snippet of a conversation between the midnight-bookstore-girl and a guy:

“so next to reading, what other hobbies do you have?”

“Oh well, I study…..”

I refocused my attention away, because there it was. A great love story in the making, whilst I was browsing for a love story already written. Driven by my curiosity what could happen in a midnight bookstore, and there was romance happening right in front of me. They talked and talked until 15 minutes before closing time, exchanged numbers, and in my mind had a happily ever after. Even though this just happened a week ago. Maybe the date went worse than your average tinder date, but I don’t care. My over-romanticising, this-is-never-going-to-happen, this is just fiction, just happened in front of me. Close to midnight, very Cinderella.

In short: my otherwise very boring Tuesday got suddenly interesting, and an added bonus: I did not leave with empty hands myself. With East of Eden tucked under my arm I walked back home, because it’s East Berlin, and I wanted to read a Steinbeck. Maybe next book I will find a midnight bookstore romance outside of fiction too, but for now, this thing between Steinbeck and me is going pretty well.


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