the second book I had bought, survived ...this morning drinking my first coffee I opened the second book but I couldn't read even the first page cause I got suddenly so sad....
I realized that it's not the lost book itself I mourned but its link to the place I bought it and the people I bought it with...books have their own stories, it's not only their content, their smell, the pleasure of touching the pages.... the mystery of books is about our stories, our moments in time..... I will always mourn that book.....
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