The perfect storm in a quiet room

Chapter 14

"There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit or sense."

Elizabeth Bennet has said that in Pride and Prejudice a long time ago, yet it's like time had not passed because I'm sure a lot of people think those same thoughts, including me.

It's just unbelievable how little can someone trust appearances. How is it possible that a person whom I believed was so sweet and nice turned out to be so... mysterious? I shake my head.

Just stop thinking about her.

While I keep walking aimlessly down the streets of this little town, more quotes from Elizabeth Bennet come to my mind, which makes me wish I had Pride and Prejudice between my hands.

The love I feel for words written on paper is so inexplicable that I wouldn't really know how to describe it. Although, I could call it "an obsession", since the effect that books produce in me goes beyond a simple love. I don't know how this obsession developed and I couldn't put it into words either, but it is my obsession, and I love it and I don't plan to do anything about it.

Already bored of wandering around pointlessly in the same streets, I decide to go to a bookstore I saw downtown a few days ago—well, I guess it was downtown since I don't really know the town. Sure it doesn't have a huge variety of books, though maybe I could find something interesting there.

I amble down the street without remembering the way to that bookstore I saw, but trusting my "good" sense of direction. After a few minutes, when I'm starting to feel lost, I see a familiar shop sign: Boulevard books. That's it.

I open the door and enter the small bookstore. I glance around the shop and see nothing but messy piles of books covering the shelves on the wall and the long counter in front of me. All the books seem to be old, but who cares? A book is a book and I'm surrounded by them and I really couldn't be happier; this is just what I needed after everything that happened.

"Hello?" I half say half ask in order to know if there is someone who works here and can help me. I'm not looking for anything in particular, honestly, but I would like to know what juvenile romance novels are available in this shop.

A lady appears from behind the counter among the piles of stacked books. She moves them to one side and when there are no more books covering the counter, I stare at her curiously. I bet she's a woman in her fifties or sixties. She's blonde and has just a few gray hairs peeking out of her scalp. The length of her hair reaches about halfway down her chest. She has beautiful green eyes and very nice features... I could say she even reminds me of someone, but who exactly? I mull over the question, while I keep looking at her, my eyes and all my attention focused on her.

Who the fuck does she remind me of, who... I know, well, it's a possibility, but she bears a strong resemblance to Casy. Her eyes are so alike it's even scary and the features are very similar, not to mention the hair color. Could she be Casy's aunt? It's possible, I don't know anything about this woman, so chances are she is.

Casy. It's impossible to get her out of my head; no matter what I do, always something or someone reminds me of her. I was trying to get her out of my mind... and I was succeeding, but then I failed. What's happening to me?

"Hello?" The lady in front of me says, and I can tell from her tone of voice that it's not the first time she does it.

"Oh, hello. I was looking for young romance novels, do you have any?" I ask amiably.