The bell on the top of the old glass door rings, signaling that someone has finally walked through it.
Only people above their thirties come into this store, so when I see a tall boy, who looks about eighteen, I can't help but watch him.
He towers over the shelves, looking through the old books, searching carefully through them. He picks up a few, reading the backs, and skimming over the first couple of pages.
I start to wonder if he's buying something for himself or his mom; I've worked here for a while, and I never usually see younger people here. They're all to distracted by the music store on the right side of the shop, or the Starbucks just down the street.
He walks through a couple more rows, eyeing the books carefully but not fully taking as much time as he did with the others. When he walks closer to the counter, I pretend to be interested in my phone, messing around with an app I installed earlier.
He clears his throat, setting two books down In front of me.
He offers me a soft smile, sticking his hands I to his pockets.
I pick up the small books, the edges turning a bit yellow from how long they've been sitting on the shelves.
"Sylvia Plath?" I ask, turning the book over to see the back.
The first one reads 'Ariel' and the back reads:
'If the moon smiled, she would resemble you. You leave the same impression, of something beautiful, but innihilating.'
He nods, looking towards the ground.
"Are these for you?" I question , running the red light over them, scanning them into the system as 'bought.'
"Yeah." He says, finally saying something. "I love books."
"I do too." I laugh, reading the title of the second. 'The bell jar.'
The books looked very interesting, and to my surprise I actually haven't read them. I've read most of the books in this place, but not these.
"Plath was a great writer."
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Ohhhh. Okay, thanks so much for reading, I'm going to go to bed, so vote/ comment, anything! I hope you have a good day!
