It had been so long since Emily had actually went to a real book store it had taken her more time than any sane person would take to simply choose one. There were a fair few big box stores, with their sugary-scented coffee shops built right in to them. And of course there were the few corner stores and newspaper stands with the latest pulp fiction sitting alongside airbrushed celebrities, crosswords and utterly neglected copies of the evening paper. In the end she chose a small shop that was wedged between two other small shops, the sort that one might mistake for closed, or perhaps not even a book store in the first place, if one were not paying particular attention. If one were, it might be seen as 'quaint' or 'retro' or one of those not-quite-flowery words that 20-somethings in scarves and tight jeans might use, but Emily simply found it 'curious'. And for her, that made all the difference.
When she stepped in she heard a little bell ding by her head and could not help but smile. Books were stacked on shelves, like any other store, but also on each other and on boxes at the ends of rows. The wood floor creaked, even under her weight, and the entire place smelled of paper and wood and the faint but lingering scent of candles that only very old and well loved books seemed to have.
"This is lovely" she said to herself, forgetting that she might seem a bit of a nutter for talking to herself. Then again, it did not seem to matter. She knew that there was someone hidden in the store somewhere, but she seemed quite well hidden amongst the stacks. Hopefully they would not notice.
