i think i'd like to work in a secondhand bookshop again. maybe not actually own one, though. the lovely loopy old bookshop lady - or mabel, to state her given name - often tells me never to get lulled into thinking it's a good idea to buy one. she's been running it for eight years now she says (often with a very long sigh), and i've started to believe that the place going under is her idea of salvation.
we found a very early edition of huckleberry finn in one of the boxes today. much excitement ensued. mabel hooted, she really did. "look at it!" she cackled, waving it at me. "just some bits of old paper and a smelly old cover and it'll buy me a ticket to the theatre!!"
i do love her.