It's official. Borders bookstore is dead broke, adios bankrupt goodbye. Rescue talks over the weekend failed. 399 more stores will be shuttered and 10,700 employees will lose their jobs. And me, I'm sad.
My Borders was where I purchased all the children's summer reading books, where I bought tomes on soap making and essential oils, where I sat on the upstairs floors paging through the most glorious cookbooks. It's where I didn't give in -- and then did -- to fruit sodas and carrot cake.
It seems sentimental and maudlin to worry about bookstores and libraries, yet I do. I worry that my new community library is stocked to the rafters with TV CDs and computers -- but seemingly few books. That there is now only one instead of three bookstores within walking distance of my home.
I do not own a KINDLE but recently gave into joining Amazon's Audible Club. Suddenly, I am able to read while walking the treadmill. I "read" while pouring soap! while baking cookies! while showering even! It is liberating and luscious in the way that getting my first library card was. Yet, in the back of my head I know something good is gone.
The childhood days of lying across my bed during DC's long hot summers, reading Nancy Drew are gone. Gone is the strolling up to the library counter with my stack of ten books, and their pages, that wafted of mustiness and the long dried ink from unabridged classics. But perhaps, most gone is that sense that we'll never give our full attention to reading words again. We will rush through, piloted like tech surfers, blinking and breathing as we go.
River Girls Studio 365
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