The Yellow-Lighted Bookshop

I'm in love with books. I love the smell of the pages in a brand new book, like a sharp citrus perfume. I love even more the smell of an old, worn book; it's perfume more heady and musky.
Nothing can compare to the feel of a well-loved book, its pages smoothed and ink smudged. The dog-eared pages, nicotine and coffee stains, all evidence of a long, loved life.
You can sit anywhere with a good book; curled up in bed, on your sofa, a park bench or the beach. Taking time to absorb each word, taking as much time as you like.
Books don't have batteries that might run out. Books don't crash, have hardware failures or viruses.
Books are magical. Magical little squares of paper, all bound together. Millions of worlds, adventures, people and places, all alive and breathing on the inky pages.
So, switch off your laptops, computers, Apple Macs, ipads, iphones and mobiles. Pick up a book. Go on, do it now.
Open it up and take a long, deep breath. Smell the heady scent and ingest each word.
Books are too loved to become redundant. They're timeless.

Lyrics

We're still here
Still holding on
On to nothing much
Reaching for something
Something
But I don't know what.
I need you now
But I don't know why.
Feeling nothing
But feeling everything
All at once.
I'm falling, I'm falling
But I don't know why.
Hold me, love me,
Squeeze me tight.
Please don't let me go,
I love you
And that's the only thing I know.
Shine me a light
So that I can find you
In this dark, dark world.
I'm holding on with my fingertips
To this earth, to this life.
You're my piece of happiness,
Solidness, strength,
My strong hand of help.
Don't let go yet.
Hold me, love me,
Squeeze me tight.
Please don't let me go.
I love you,
And that's the only thing I know.
Never let go.

Jennifer Nolan 2010

The Coffee Shop Prompt - 3rd (& final) Instalment

I didn't know who she was at first.  Her face looked familiar, but I couldn't quite remember where I knew her from.  I thought she was stalking me.  Well, she is stalking me.  I come into the cafe at the same time every week, and she's sat there in the same seat, typing away at her laptop.  I don't think she knows that I can see the reflection of her desktop in the window behind her; typing away at a blank screen.
I spent the whole day yesterday flicking through pictures of her as a kid.  She's still got the same wild, curly red hair and the same little button nose.  I'm going to speak to her today.  I've got to.  We can't go on like this forever, she family.  She's my sister.

'Hey,' he said, slipping into the seat opposite her.
She blushed a deep red.
'Hi.'
'Listen,' he said, pushing his hand across the table.  Wow, he thought.  She looks like our dad.
'I know who you are.'
She didn't know what to say.  She stared at the laptop screen, praying for the right words.
'I know who you are,' she said.

RIP Caroline Dowen

A few years ago I started an online writers group on msn called Insane Writers.  My first member was Caroline Dowen.  Caroline helped me to build up the group, and quickly became a treasured friend.  She was a very talented writer, a great laugh and a fantastic listener.
I have just found out that Caroline has passed away.  My deepest sympathy goes out to all of Caroline's family and friends, and on behalf of all members of Insane Writers, we love you and will think of you every single day.  Rest in peace Caroline. xxx 

The Coffee Shop Prompt - 2nd Instalment

Continued...
I switched my laptop on and glanced up just as he walked through the door.  His mousy-brown hair clung to his head, matted.  My heart skipped a beat as he brushed past my table, uttering an apology under his breath.  His smell wafted past me; polo mints and the musty smell of his damp coat.
I busied myself, sipping my coffee and checking my emails as he settled into his seat and ordered his usual pot of tea.  He'd not shaven that morning.  I could see the stubble spiking through around his chin.
He'd not shaven in the first profile picture.  I remember thinking that he reminded me of someone, but couldn't think who.  I know now.
I was lucky to find him on Facebook.  All I was given was his name, Gareth Smith.  There were thousands of them, but when I saw his picture, I just knew.  Luckily, he'd listed his place of work as the gallery across the street and I'd followed him into the cafe a few times.  Now, he just thinks I'm another regular customer.  Just like him.
I snapped my glance back to the screen quickly as he looked up into my eyes.  He must have felt me staring.  When I looked back up, he was smiling at me.  My cheeks flared red as I banged away at my keyboard, not really typing anything on the blank screen.  When I looked up again, he was standing at the edge of my table.

To be continued...

The Coffee Shop Prompt - 1st Instalment

I sat down in my usual seat, near the back, in the corner of the coffee shop. It was warmer back there, with no draught from the door as customers came and went. I also had the advantage of being able to watch everyone else without them noticing.
I ordered my usual large cappuchino and settled back into the squashy seat, checking my watch. He'd be here in ten minutes. Just enough time for me to rifle through my briefcase and make myself look busy. Well, I didn't want him to think I was stalking him, did I?
I opened my laptop and angled it carefully towards his usual seat so that I could sneak peeks over the top of the screen. The hot, steaming coffee machines and the overcrowding of damp, rain-sodden customers had made the floor to ceiling windows steam up, so I wouldn't be able to see him arrive until he walked through the door.
My stomach churned as I checked my watch for the tenth time. He was two minutes late. He was normally there at two-thirty on the dot. He was never late. It made me nervous.

To be continued...