A Vintage Bookshop

Nothing compares to the vintage aroma of an ancient bookshop. Endless years of captured memories in a single claustrophobic room. Rich vibrant voices explode from the shelves, engulfing the room with their sharp witty humour and somber moods. It never ceases to astonish me, the epic journeys traveled by those trapped within the pages.
I'm suddenly reminded of one such particular shop and the challenges associated with finding the books. Ducking under a low shelf, shimmying through a narrow gap, dodging various escaping authors, I successfully reach the back of the shop. Accompanied by a close friend we joyfully delve into the rare pages. Haunted by raging storms of emotion and the inner turmoil of the character's mind. My friend looks up at me her eyes alive in the dimly lit cave. I know that expression all to well. Some might say that we're insane, others may agree, but we'll carry on loosing ourselves in the extraordinary odyssey of story.
Each day we managed to disappear among the layers upon layers of books. Crammed peacefully in a corner time slipped slowly by. Soon realising the drastic effects of these little gems on our pockets, we had no choice but to bar ourselves from this paradise. Not to mention that our regular unexplained vanishing act failed to enthrall the audience.