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Serotonin heaters and the smell of fresh, hot coffee; I want you to struggle walking into Barnes & Noble. Where are you in the middle of a snowy December?
windchimes illuminate the dim landscape before me as the door swings wide, welcoming me back. that familiar smell: must from years of intellectual neglect, moth eaten pages and worn out couch cushions.
There are certain precautions one must take when stalking the aisles of a book store. It isn’t so simple as a stroll in the park or a saunter along some moonlit path. No. This is war. You’ve entered the most
Maybe one day I'll be viewable on pages, can't believe after all these years, they still got in mind(I'm not good enough) , don't know Why I'm tryin to prove this, all the bookstores dream of more money,