Bookstore Meme Mga Nobela at Kwento

This was only another proof that this person really knew me and Smith's jewelries too. I walked into the bookstore, it was scanty. There were only fewer highschool students seated in it, and the store keeper too. " How may I help you dear?" The old lady who was the store keeper asked me with a smile on her face. "Uhm…I'm waiting for someone?" I wondered if it would be rude to wait in the store without getting a book. "...but I would go through the shelves and pick any book that pricked my interest." I quickly added, just in case it was rude to be here without purchasing anything.

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"You said you wouldn't be back for another month at least!" "Plans changed," Nathan said, laughing as he hugged her back, lifting her briefly off her feet before setting her down. "Turns out three months backpacking through South America is enough to make a man miss actual plumbing, decent coffee, and people who don't try to sell you llama wool at every single bus stop. Where's Ryan? I want to see his face when I tell him about the time I nearly got arrested in Bolivia."

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“I swear you’re bi, Meme” “Bitch, I’d be bi for you and only you”, Meme says through her continuous laughing and winks at Amory, who throws a pillow at her. “I’m joining the alphabet mafia, bitches”, she squeals. When we look at her confused, she says, “you know LBGTQ, and I dunno all the rest of the letters and symbols that go along with it. But you know what I mean”! “There is something seriously wrong with you, Mems”, Amory says to her, but she just shrugs.

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But if you hurt my sister, I’ll bury you under the parking slab. — Charming. He gets up, clears our cups, and throws over his shoulder: — Are you walking today? — Yes. I need some air. To walk. — You mean: to think about that message and imagine a future in 14 steps while passing by the bakery? — Shut up. He laughs. And despite myself, I smile again. This moment is nothing exceptional. But it has all the markings of a landmark. Because in a few hours, I will remember it like one remembers a last clear breath.

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Of course, we agreed. After Ethan paid for the books he’d bought, he sat back down next to me. Not long after, the shop owner’s son brought a teapot full of tea and two plates of snacks. The aroma of the tea tempted my sense of smell, especially the snacks. Everything looked delicious. “Please help yourselves,” he said, and then he left us. The sound of heavy rain and the chilly wind blowing through the window cracks made the atmosphere feel cozy. Especially since we were the only ones in this fairly large bookstore. The Bookstore of Memories lived up to its name.