Will it be alright when I am gone you ask. I say it’s preposterous to even think about. You might laugh now but I am just and old man with plenty of years to live. I dare die tomorrow but I still have an implausible amount of books left to read. 

Don’t you roll your eyes on me. You will never understand the dilemma of a reader since you’re not one yourself. I know you prefer spending time with your golf set and a glass of Scotch then leather-hugging books and with inseparable amount of black coffee. You can act bored all you want but think of it when next time you’re in some trouble and you seek wisdom. It won’t be my tongue I can guarantee that you fat stupid fool. 

Of course, I don’t like your guts. You’re just as ignorant as all the other men of your age. Think of me, I am almost twice your age, give or take 10 years. You are just as lazy as I once was when I reached your age, even more as one would say. Don’t be so fascinated by my words, I assure you I am not certainly lying about my past. I was almost a lost cause until I met a woman who changed my way of life forever. Now you are interested in my story, I see.

 I must not raise your hopes high and tell you that she is not my beloved wife whom I love very dearly and will till I step in an empty coffin. I met this lovely woman at this bookstore that I used to visit with my dear friend Williams, a great man, he fancied books where I fancied women. What are you getting so funny about? I was once a young lad with fire in my arms. I was at the this bookstore where Williams used to go alone and read but that day he took me thinking I might share his interest and understand his fascination towards the books. At that store I saw this woman who owned this store, looked a bit younger than me, but still looking like woman, eh. 

She was holding a pile of dusty old books, the pile in her arms was almost ready to collapse when I held it. That day I fell in love with her. She loved books so much and to see her I wanted to see her everyday, so I started reading books, and also then I could understand what she knows about this world, how she looks at everything through the stained pages of books, she made me fall for books only in few days. Don’t interrupt my thoughts with your funny smile. Wipe it off your face you stupid fat fool. One day I went to the store with her and she brought a book, an empty book, with nothing written in it. I asked her what was it for and she gave it to me saying I should write letters to her everyday and she’ll read it. 

That very night when I opened the book and looked at it, there was a short letter saying she loved me, and how she wants to read the letters. When the next day I went to the book store it was closed, so I went to Williams. He told me that the Book store owner died last night. And from that day I lost myself in the books. I look for her in the books. I look for her thoughts, her pieces of memories in them, her perception, her only hope for living in them.

.    .    .