i walked around barnes and nobles today for about a half hour before my friend met me there for some much needed coffee.
i looked through the different sections starting at music, then off to art, and ended up at the christian section.
as i stumbled around i began thinking about all the different authors.
how many hours and days, years, and lifetimes were poured out into the pages that surrounded me.
how many books go unnoticed.
and if i were a book in that store what would i be?
would i be sitting in the shelf dusty? or would the people who work there know exactly where i belong because i barely ever had a shelf life.
which is better? which is more useful?
i'd like to think i'd be the hidden book, waiting for that special someone to hand pick me, and be so delighted to find me, because well you had been searching for me all over the place, maybe you even looked at the shelf a hundred times, and just never saw me until you weren't looking for me anymore. would they clasp me tightly and proudly hand me off to be purchased. walking out of the store inviting me into your world. placing me on your passenger seat to go wherever you were headed to.
would i stay at your bedside? i would i be cried on? would i be marked, highlighted, and read aloud? my inner secrets made known to others, but if it were by you then that'd be fine. would you tell others about me? would you forget me? and once again pick me up and spend hours and days together. would i inspire you? would you relate to me? would you believe my story? would you want more? would you look to another book but still keep me as your favorite? would you spill coffee on me one morning? would my pages be torn? would you throw me into a corner? would you gently place me down before bed?
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